I accepted it, my gaze flickering from him, to Aisling, to the silent but watchful Drake, and back again. Aisling chatted for a few minutes about the pleasant evening and the area we were in. I took a couple of sips of my wine, making noncommittal replies whenever it seemed called for.

‘‘Have we met before?’’ Aisling suddenly asked, a smile on her lips as she added, ‘‘I’m sorry, that came out terribly rude, didn’t it? It’s just that you look so familiar . . .’’

‘‘Louise Brooks,’’ I said, with a half smile of my own.

‘‘I beg your pardon?’’

‘‘I look like Louise Brooks. It’s the hair, mostly, I think,’’ I said, smoothing my hand over my short bob.

‘‘I like it,’’ Gabriel said to my astonishment. ‘‘Your hair is glossy and black, like the wing of a blackbird. You are small like a bird, too.’’

Momentarily dumbfounded by both the comments and the warm undertone almost imperceptible in his voice, I was silent for a few seconds before continuing. ‘‘Louise was a silent movie star. Cyrene fell in love with the flapper styles of the early 1920s and was a dead ringer for Louise. Thus, when Cyrene created me, I looked like Louise as well. Cy usually wears her hair differently than me, but a couple of months ago she went to a costume party and decided to re-create her flapper look.’’

‘‘She . . . created you?’’ Aisling asked, looking astounded.

‘‘Yes. Doppelgangers are created when their twin gives up a part of themselves. In Cyrene’s case, she sacrificed her common sense in order to create me.’’ My lips tightened. I didn’t mind talking about doppelgangers in general, but I was not going to go into any more details about my creation, or subsequent bondage to Magoth.

‘‘That’s very interesting,’’ she said. Jim the demon wandered in from the yard, taking up a spot at her feet.

‘‘Are you finished?’’ Drake asked her.

My stomach tightened uncomfortably at the hard look he turned on me.

‘‘Yes, but you could have made more of an effort to participate in a little polite conversation,’’ she told him, pinching his thigh. ‘‘Please forgive him, May. Dragons normally have the most exquisite manners, but for some reason, tonight Drake seems to have misplaced his.’’

I avoided looking at István. I wasn’t feeling guilty about biting him—he had done far, far worse to Cyrene—but that was clearly not going to be a welcome subject of discussion.