She felt her jaw start to tremble and shook her head to fight off the emotion.
No
.
I won’t cry
.
He’ll come back or he won’t
.
It was one night … probably just
,
like he said
,
a romp
.
Pfft! You’re lying and you know it
, came the Candy voice in her brain.
You know damn well you’re hating this
,
and would go straight back to Vril if you thought they were still there
.
The phone rang at the same moment as the doorbell, bringing Mila’s head out of the clouds—the dark gray ones that screamed a storm was coming. She bolted down the stairs from the small office that had once been Lillian’s sewing room.
She clicked the on button while she peered through the peephole of the solid wood door. “Hello?”
Candy was waving on her front stoop with a broad smile, so she opened the door as a voice spoke in her ear. “Mila? This is Jean-Paul from the Palace.”
She motioned Candy inside just as a frown overtook her and she walked back into the living room. “Hi, Jean-Paul. What’s up?” She knew her voice sounded suspicious, but there was no helping it. She was. “I don’t remember you ever calling me at home before.”
Candy’s face brightened at the male name and pursed her lips with a small ooo-ing noise. Mila shook her head and rolled her eyes. Not in a million years. “I’m pleased not to have any bad news for you, Mila. I was simply following up on the strawberries, as we agreed, and your receptionist mentioned you planned to visit the hotel this afternoon for a last-minute inspection. Unfortunately, I already have a meeting scheduled out of the hotel. In fact, I’m already late. But I’ll make my assistant, Denise, available for your walk-through. I think you’ll find we’ve taken care of everything.”
He really did sound apologetic, rather than nervous. But having an
assistant
available might actually work to her benefit. She might not know where Mila could and couldn’t go. It would make it perfect for searching for clues. “That’s great, Jean-Paul. Will she have access to the whole hotel? We have some pretty famous people coming, so I’d like to tell the partners I looked at security and safety arrangements, too. You know how picky they can be.” And she’d made
sure
over the course of their negotiations to remind him of their pickiness, even when it was actually
her
attention to detail he was satisfying.
“Of course. I’ll let her know that you’ll have the run of the place—except for guest rooms which are still occupied, of course.”
That grabbed her attention. Was Vegre already there? “Oh, of course. Have any of our guests checked in yet? It might be nice if I personally welcomed them—maybe with a fruit basket or champagne?” Making it a question would let him know that the
hotel
was being expected to provide the gift, and then add it to the bill.
She heard clicking in the background, probably him checking arrivals on the computer. “Mr. Pierce arrived last night, but he’s out right now … and, let’s see … Mr. Popolous and his entourage just checked in. I don’t believe they’re in their room yet, though. Would you like me to send up room service, or wait until you arrive?”
Okay!
Mr. Pierce
was there. So, she was right.
Unless you’re wrong
,
and it’s not the same guy.
But no, she wouldn’t consider that possibility right now. “Perfect. No, wait until I arrive. I was going to come in casual clothes, but I think now I’ll change. Let Denise know I’ll be there in … say, an hour?” She glanced at her watch. Two o’clock, so three by the time she got there and she should be out of there by five. She could report back with a voice mail to one of the partners and hopefully, she’d have some idea of how to ambush Vegre before the party. It’s all she could think to do. Maybe knock him out or tie him up in a bathtub or some such. Or maybe she could sneak into his room and see if he had any
duszats
she could steal or destroy. Frankly, there wasn’t much else she
could
do if nobody from the O.P.A. planned to show up.
“That will be fine. I’ll see everything is ready. Have a pleasant day, and thank you for patronizing the Palace.” He hung up without waiting for a reply, which meant he was either annoyed she was going to do the walk-through, or he really was late for his meeting.
Candy had already made herself comfortable in one of the recliners that Mila had bought with the leftover money from the roof loan. Mr. Whiskers was perched delicately on her lap, happily shedding fine gray fur all over her dark pants and rumbling noisily in approval of the chin scratching he was getting.
Her friend raised one carefully plucked eyebrow and waved a hand to the opposite chair for Mila to sit. “I’ll presume that wasn’t a social call, so I won’t bother to grill you. I’m much more interested in where you were all night. You mom must have called a half-dozen times. When I finally got worried enough to actually get in my car and drive through a blinding snowstorm, your car wasn’t here, you weren’t here, but there were footprints all over the place. So spill. Where are the magicians, where is my niece, and why aren’t you at work for the second day in a row?”
She did sit down, mostly because she was too stunned to stand any longer. God, where to start? The last time she’d talked to Candy was when she left work yesterday and they hadn’t really
talked
. “Um … wow. Where to start? It’s been …
wild
.” She shook her head and stood up again. If she was going to explain it all, it might as well be while she was getting ready. “Follow along. I’ll try to bring you up to date.”
As they quickly climbed the stairs, she decided it would be a good idea to explain
how
she was going to explain things. “It’ll be easier to tell you whole threads at a time. If I try to do it in order of what happened when, we’ll be here all day. First, I don’t know how Suzanne is, except that Viktor told me they’d been moved somewhere safe.”
Candy’s face took on a frantic look. “Did they cure her? Where’s she been this whole time? Carole has been
insane
and has been taking it out on me.”
Mila waved her hands in front of her to wave off the questions fluttering around her head. “No, no, no. No questions, or we’ll
never
get through this. The short answer is
I don’t know.
Third-party information, remember?”
Candy took a deep breath and closed the toilet lid before sitting down as Mila plugged in the blow dryer and tied back her hair so she could wash her face. “Okay, I get it. I’ll have to wait to talk to Tim. Where’s the magician guy?”
She always did suck at names. “Tal. His name is Talos Onan and he’s—” She couldn’t decide how to end the statement.
He’s awesome? He’s a total jerk? He’s great in bed?
“Actually, I don’t know how he is right now.”
Candy’s brows rose a fraction and she tilted her head. “
That
was an odd tone. I’d say you had a lover’s quarrel and were on the outs, but that would imply things I can’t quite believe about you.”
She had a few seconds respite while she scrubbed and then dried her face. “Let’s talk about what’s happening with Sela, instead. That’s a lot more important, and why I’m going over to the Palace.”
“Look at me, Mila.” It was a casual request but she found herself trying to school her features as though she’d just broken her mother’s favorite vase. It was only seconds that she was under her friend’s scrutiny when Candy’s jaw dropped and her hands fell off her lap. “Oh … my …
God!
You did! You slept with him. I cannot believe this. My best friend
final/y
got lucky. Let the bells ring and the choirs sing!”
She blushed such a dark red there was no way she’d be able to put on foundation and get it even, so she grabbed a brush and flipped her hair over her head. “It’s not what you think.”
“Oh, it’s what I think, all right.” She snapped her fingers so loud Mila jumped. “Girl, I can spot a woman who’s gotten some a mile away, and
you
got some. Is that where you were last night—at his place?”
That started the conversation about their adventure at Viktor’s, and in Vril and why she was back. Candy didn’t ask a single other question while Mila primped and preened to go to the hotel, and followed her like an obedient dog while they moved from room to room—finding her best St. Laurent suit, ironing it, digging the matching shoes out of the back of the closet, and then blow drying her hair with a fat round brush to get out some of the weird kinks from sleeping on it wrong. She took a sip of the soda Candy had brought her while she ironed, now at the front door. Mila was very nearly hoarse. “So, that’s where we’re at. Now you know why I need to inspect the hotel, and now I’ve got to go.”
“Actually,
we
need to go and you need to take
those
along. I’ll drive.” She pointed at the boxes of eggs and then started to pick up the nearest bag.
“I’m fine with you coming along. I could use the company. But why take the pysanky? We’ll be back in an hour or so.”
Candy tapped a finger on the front of her purse and then shook her head, tiny worried movements that started to chew at Mila’s stomach. “We need to take those along because when I went to get the sodas, I figured I’d grab the eggs you sold me. But they’re gone, carton and all. And since you didn’t mention taking them, and
I
didn’t take them, then—”
She hung her head and let out a frustrated breath. “Then either Sela or Vegre took them. So, they’ve been back here. Crap, crap,
crap!
” Was the gate open upstairs? Jeff hadn’t mentioned it, but she remembered now that she and Tal had left Sela’s door
open
, but it had been closed when she and Candy walked in the bathroom. Without waiting for her friend, she sprinted up the stairs, but switched to a tiptoe as she approached the door. There was no sound, no voices, so she opened the door. The closet was bare and the suitcases gone.
Yep, they’ve been here all right
.
I suppose I should be glad they didn’t strip the place
.
“Need any help up there?” Candy’s voice came from the bottom of the stairs. Apparently, she wasn’t real interested in running into either of them again.
She spun and grabbed the doorknob, intending to shut it again when she left, when something sparkled on the floor, out of the corner of her eye. Furrowing her brow, she leaned over the cart that held Sela’s stereo system and game console. The item the sun had glinted off of looked like a driving glove, made from black suede. It was snagged underneath a wide splinter in the bed frame, and it took a little tugging to unhook it. She turned it over to see the clear green faceted stone that was nearly the diameter of a soda can.
And exactly the diameter of my opal
.
Could it be an emerald? Was this Tal’s glove? She’d only seen it for a moment before he threw it into the gate. She raised it carefully to her nose and inhaled. The same spicy grass tones she remembered from his skin clung to the leather.
A spark of something that felt frighteningly like joy filled her with a speed that matched the thought sailing through her head.
Now he’ll have to come back
. He’d been looking for his glove, and here it was. It was a shame it wasn’t connected to Vegre anymore, but she supposed he made it back through the gate when it got snagged.
She tucked it in her coat pocket with a smile.
I’ll just keep it safe until he gets back
. She was halfway down the stairs when Dareen’s sad face came into her mind.
Will I be waiting forever? Hoping he’ll come back until I finally put it in the basement—hiding it away from whoever I eventually marry? Is that what I want for my life … to always hope
,
to always—
She couldn’t even finish as she joined Candy at the door. Her friend noticed her abrupt mood shift and didn’t ask questions … yet.
Her hands were windblown and cold by the time they got the eggs loaded in Candy’s vehicle, and she put her hands into her pockets until the heater began to blow hot air. She felt the glove under her hand. Actually, she felt the
stone
. Rather than icy cold, it was warm to the touch, radiating with the same heat as when Tal was near. She opened her mouth and tasted … sweetness, and it made her heart pound and her skin ache.
“Candy,” she asked in nearly a whisper as they pulled out into traffic. “Is it possible to discover you need something … truly
need
it with every ounce of your soul, even though you didn’t realize it existed until a few days ago?”
“
A
ccept it, guv. You need Mila.” Alexy took another casual sip of fragrant herbal tea in which he’d poured about three times the normal majorica fruit sweetener. He raised his cup and winked. “Or, at least, the rest of us do. Once she makes a few more of those pretty eggs, we won’t have to ration the juice at all.”