‘‘Let her go,’’ Gabriel ordered. As soon as they released my arms, I twisted around to face him. He stood a few feet beyond me, incredibly handsome in his evening clothes, his eyes drawing me in and making me want to lose myself in them. He was still, but a coiled sense of power seemed to surround him, as if he was a panther about to pounce.

‘‘I’m sorry,’’ I told him. ‘‘This is no reflection on you. You seem to be a very nice man . . . dragon . . . but unfortunately, even if I agreed that somehow, I was meant to be your mate, there are circumstances that prohibit me from taking that role. I hope you understand.’’

‘‘I understand,’’ he said after a few moment’s silence, his voice rubbing along my skin like velvet.

Before I could stop myself, I took a step forward toward him. ‘‘Thank you.’’

The rest of the world seemed to recede until only a small stretch of wool carpet bearing Gabriel and myself existed. His eyes searched mine, searing a silver path straight down to my soul. It was as if our souls touched for one blinding moment of glory.

Drake’s voice lashed across me with the violence of a whip crack, dragging me back into reality with a painful jerk. ‘‘There is still the matter of Mei Ling.’’

I backed away from Gabriel, not trusting myself to be near him. For a moment I wished . . . but that was folly. I needed to stop moping over wishes that would never be realized, and instead work on getting us out of the situation. The doorway loomed behind me. Oh, how I wanted to race through it, grab Cyrene, and escape this house. But I couldn’t, not yet. Slowly, I examined everyone in the room, silent and still as if they’d been frozen into place. I avoided looking at Gabriel’s bright eyes, looking instead at the man who’d spoken. ‘‘What about it?’’

‘‘You are the thief Mei Ling.’’ Drake frowned for a moment. ‘‘You don’t look Asian.’’

‘‘I’m not. Or rather, Cyrene isn’t, hence I am not.’’

‘‘Then why are you called Mei Ling?’’ he asked.

‘‘Mayling,’’ Aisling said suddenly, smiling. ‘‘It’s a nickname.’’

I nodded, and decided to brazen it out rather than offer up a denial none of them would believe. ‘‘And if I said I was the thief Mei Ling? What would you do? Hand me over to the watch? Burn me at the stake? Wrap me in chains and toss me into the nearest dungeon?’’

‘‘There is a price on her head,’’ István said. ‘‘A large price.’’

‘‘That’s right,’’ Aisling said thoughtfully. ‘‘I heard about that earlier. You stole something from Dr. Kostich, and he put a whopper of a bounty on your head.’’