But it might be too much too soon. “For the moment, Highness, I’ll decline. I thank you, but there are already enough people who want to take off my head for overstepping myself.”
She didn’t offer a second time or insist or even try to convince me I was wrong. I liked that she respected my opinions even on our short acquaintance. “As you wish.”
There were still a few items on my list of big issues and I wondered if I might be able to scratch one more off tonight. “However, there is a history question you might be able to answer for me, if you will.”
“The history of our people? Of course. If I can.”
“What can you tell me about the Millennium Horns? Do they still exist?”
The pause on the other end of the phone was long enough that I thought about speaking. When Lopaka finally spoke, there was unexpected fury in her voice: “How dare you ask that! Family or no, this call is at an end.”
There was a click without even a good-bye. My face must have shown my sudden shock and embarrassment, because Dawna reared back like I’d grown a second head. Crap. All that goodwill I’d built up with sweat and blood … gone because of asking one question? Shit, shit, shit! I felt sick to my stomach. “Oh, man. I think I just really messed up. And I don’t even know what I said wrong.”
“Why was that a bad question?” Dawna sounded honestly confused. “Even I’ve heard of those. The story’s in the history books in school.”
A sudden blast of cold air made me look toward the window. Right story?
My stomach squirmed even more. “Oh, I didn’t think of that. What if the history books got it wrong? What if the real story is a huge scandal or something?” Well, there was nothing I could do about it now. I’d have to figure out some way to apologize for my faux pas.
“Well, I guess the best thing I can do now is find out everything I can about the horns.”
Dawna smiled slyly. “I bet I know where you’re going to go look.”
I returned her smile. Kill two birds with one stone. “Want to come along?”
She shrugged and laid her hand on the mouse. “Sure. I’ve got nothing better to do and I have some stuff I want to tell you. Just let me shut down.”
Yeah, I had stuff to tell her, too. I didn’t know whether to bring up the idea of living together yet. So far she’d been a trooper with the vampire thing, but she was always careful to stay behind glass or concrete or such. The last thing I wanted was to be a source of trauma to her.
Actually, that wasn’t true. The last thing I wanted was to be the source of her death.
12
I was a little worried about getting into the campus library. Though I’d graduated, I was still officially a student—I took a class or two every semester to maintain my health insurance. Right now I was getting a D in ornamental gardening because I hadn’t been showing up for class and I’d missed the midterm exam. Well, my life had gotten just a little complicated. I think the only reason the instructor hadn’t failed me outright was because he was giving the class for the same reason I was taking it, so he was somewhat loathe to make me lose my benefits. But he did warn that I was going to have to spend some time with the design books and a hedge clipper after the winter break or he wasn’t going to be able to let me skate by anymore.
And while the vampire healing was holding up so far, I’d hate for something else to change in my life and leave me with no healing and no insurance.
But despite my status as a student, I might be kicked out of the library. I’d been eighty-sixed by Anna herself not long ago. She considered me a risk to the patrons. A normal vampire certainly would be, and she’d outed me as a bat the minute I was turned. That was one reason I’d brought Dawna along. She could get through the magical barriers to the basement level even if I couldn’t and could give Anna the address where she could find Kevin. But I was hoping Anna hadn’t increased the shielding.
Dawna obviously had had similar thoughts. As we drove toward the library she said, “Why don’t I go in first? I can take her the note and see if you can come in. Just drop me off and drive around in case we’re being followed. I’ll call you in a couple of minutes.”
While I didn’t like the thought I could never go back to the library—because it was one of my all-time favorite places—the discretion made sense. Maybe hooking Anna back up with Kevin and making sure he was safe would get me back on her good side.
“Sounds good. And hey, if you manage it, I’ll give you your Christmas present early. It’s really nice.” Actually, I had no choice but to give it to her early. The reservations were for the coming weekend.
She lifted her chin and looked coy. “Not as nice as the one I got you, I’ll bet.”
Oh-ho. A competition. “Think so? Can you top a luxury weekend at the Oceanview spa—including hair, nails, facials, and massages? You, me, and Emma and the pampering of our lives?”
She squealed in delight and bounced in her seat, looking the most excited she had in months. “Omigawd! That place is the best! It got five stars from Resorts magazine. When is it for?”
I smiled. “This weekend. You hadn’t mentioned any plans.”
Her sparkling eyes got even happier. “That’s in the Napa Valley, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “Right in the heart. Not sure why they called it Oceanview, but the pictures on the website are gorgeous.”
She started bouncing again. “Omigawd! It’s perfect. I think we’re both psychic or something … because look at your present!”
Dawna reached into her purse just as we reached the library’s parking lot. I found a spot under one of the big twin fluorescent lamps and light flooded the car. She passed me a gilt-edged envelope of heavy pressed linen. Pretty snazzy.
I opened it and removed three slips of cardboard with more gilt scrollwork and engraved lettering. I turned the shining letters into the light and … “Oh, no way! There is no fucking way I’m seeing this!” My jaw was well and truly dropped. Somehow she had managed the absolutely impossible. I was holding a personalized ticket to the event of the year. “How the hell did you get tickets to the release party?”
She smiled smugly and shook her head, refusing to answer.
California is wine country, so anytime a new wine shows up it’s news. About two years ago, twin sisters with no grape-growing background came in and set up shop. They took over a little private winery and planted all new vines. It was very hush-hush and nobody really gave them a chance of success. Everyone expected them to do some big-time begging for press. Surprisingly, they didn’t seek attention. They wouldn’t even give interviews to the major wine magazines. There was a lot of buzz that they’d been in negotiations with the state growers’ association and the EPA about whatever they were doing, and nearly every week some scandal sheet would claim to have the inside track on what sort of wine the sisters were making.
Then they started entering European wine competitions. The little California start-up took gold medals in both the red and white categories. But no one wrote or spoke about the wine itself—even the judges of the contests kept silent. A couple of French and Italian winemakers’ groups protested, as did a consortium of Australian companies, and the courts got involved. The sisters’ company insisted the court records be sealed because of trade secrets—and they were.
In the end the sisters gave up the medals, which ended the case with the nature of the wine still concealed. There was a full-blown riot in the press. Nobody in the public had tasted the wine. Nobody could find it. Nobody could beg, borrow, or steal it.