The blow left me dazed, watching with unfocused eyes as Gabriel’s form shimmered for a second, then shifted into that of a powerful form that glittered as bright as his eyes. The dragons still held swords, one of Gabriel’s arms limp and bloodied, but the wordless roar that was ripped from his throat promised more than retribution.

He drove the demon’s sword deep into the chest of the white dragon, causing Baltic to shift back into human form. He staggered backwards a few steps, both hands on the hilt of the demon’s sword, a look of amazement on his face. ‘‘A shadow sword?’’

Gabriel looked startled for an instant as well, but that expression vanished when he returned to his human form. He snatched up the dagger I’d dropped when I transformed, stalking toward Baltic, his head down, one side of his body held higher than the other, his eyes burning with mercurial fire. ‘‘She . . . is . . . mine,’’ he growled, and Baltic, staggering slightly, shook his head as if in disbelief.

‘‘How can you know? It cannot be, and yet, this shadow blade is real. This is not over.’’

The roar that followed shook the shadow world. ‘‘She is mine!’’

Baltic said nothing in response to that, just backed into the shadows and disappeared.

Gabriel stood for a moment, panting with the effort that I knew it took him merely to keep conscious, before turning toward me.

‘‘Little bird,’’ he said, and dropped to his knees.

I crawled over to him, noting with the same abstracted interest that my hands were no longer silver, but the normal freckled beige I expected.

‘‘He’ll be back,’’ Gabriel said, gasping for air as I peeled back his shirt. ‘‘We have to get out of here.’’

He held his left wrist with his right hand, pulling it close to his body to keep the limb from dropping off altogether. I gritted my teeth against the gruesome sight that was his shoulder, ripping off my shirt to bind his arm to his torso, ignoring the little sounds of pain that escaped him. ‘‘We must leave, mate.’’

‘‘We will,’’ I said, cradling him to me as the loss of blood caught up with him. His head lolled back against my shoulder. I held him tight, weeping hot, silent tears from the lingering emotions left by the dragon shard.

Chapter Twenty-five

‘‘How’s he feeling—good lord, May!’’

A female voice pierced the haze that so often accompanies exhausted sleep. I pushed myself out of it, sitting upright, momentarily confused about where I was.

Aisling stood on the other side of the bed upon which I was lying, a startled expression on her face.

I followed her gaze to my hand, which had been resting on Gabriel’s chest. It was covered in silver scales, the scarlet claws in stark relief against his skin.

‘‘Wow. Half dragon, half girl. That’s gotta be a moneymaker if you set up a webcam,’’ Jim said, peering over the bed at me.

Panic gripped me as I tried to force the dragon part of me back. If I was starting to shift while sleeping, could it be long before the dragon shard took me over completely?

‘‘Do not distress yourself,’’ Gabriel said softly to me. ‘‘Relax, little bird. Take your time. Do not force the change.’’

It was easy for him to say; he wasn’t the one losing himself, I thought bitterly to myself as I nonetheless followed his advice. I took a deep breath and tried to relax my tense muscles, gently but firmly pushing out the volatile emotions that so persistently held me in their grip.

‘‘Aw, man! Now she looks normal. We aren’t going to get rich that way,’’ Jim said with disgust.

Aisling watched me for a moment. ‘‘I guess I should have been asking if you were all right, rather than Gabriel.’’

I pushed aside my own troubles to glance anxiously at Gabriel. Unlike the half-dead, unresponsive man whom I’d managed to drag to an exit outside of Abaddon, he looked positively brimming with health now, his color good, his breathing unlabored.

‘‘Tipene is a good healer, but I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for May,’’ he answered with a slight grimace.

Drake entered the room, giving Aisling a pointed look before pulling a chair over behind her and gently pushing her down into it.

‘‘Are you still in pain?’’ I asked, quickly checking the bandage that was wrapped around his shoulder. ‘‘Do you want me to call Tipene?’’

‘‘No, that face was a reflection of my failure,’’ he answered, taking my hand and kissing my fingers.

‘‘Failure? What failure? You did the impossible, Gabriel—you saved me from Baltic when no one else could have,’’ I said, relieved by the spark of sexual interest that lit in his eyes. If he was feeling randy, then he couldn’t still be in much pain.

‘‘You had to rescue me,’’ he answered, disgruntled. ‘‘It should have been the reverse.’’

‘‘If your arm hadn’t nearly been hacked off, I would punch you in your shoulder so hard you’d flinch,’’ I said softly.

He grinned, and instantly the dragon shard insisted I jump his bones.

‘‘Honest to god, men,’’ Aisling muttered, giving both Gabriel and Drake a dark look. ‘‘I understand protecting your loved ones, but this is just pure macho, and you both know it. Although I admit I don’t understand the whole thing, since May was fairly incoherent when she called us. With worry, naturally, but still, you did promise to tell us what happened. Jim dished with a little of what happened after I summoned it back, but we want to hear the full story.’’

I examined Gabriel’s face. There were faint lines around his mouth that gave a hint as to how much pain he’d been in until I’d managed to drag him out of Abaddon, but otherwise, he looked up to a recap.

‘‘Before we go into that, did you get Chuan Ren out?’’ he asked.

Drake nodded. ‘‘We did. She has left to go deal with Fiat.’’

‘‘Deal with?’’ I asked, not easy in my mind about what we had unleashed, but knowing there was no other option. ‘‘As in kill?’’

‘‘Possibly,’’ Drake said, his fingers caressing the back of Aisling’s neck. I was struck once again by their bond, by the deep love the two shared. Would the dragon shard let me love Gabriel the same why? Or had it already changed me so that I would never have that kind of quiet contentment? The dragon emotions were so volatile, so explosive, so totally at odds with my normal, placid self, I couldn’t help but mourn what couldn’t be.