Holding her tight was all I could do. I said, “I know you do. I know.”
After dinner, I tucked Beverly in.
“How is she?” Johnny asked when I came back to the kitchen. He’d been cleaning up, and he flipped the dish towel over his shoulder.
“Sleeping.”
“I wasn’t thinking. I feel like an ass.”
Sliding onto the bench at the table, I said, “It’s a harsh truth, but one she’d have to learn about sooner or later anyway. Dancing around it won’t help her.” I paused. “Celia with Theo? I’m shirking my shift.”
“No. I gave her a glass of wine and sent her out on the front porch.”
“Wine?”
“Can’t cook Italian without wine.”
There wasn’t anything drinkable here. “You gave her cooking sherry?”
“No. I got some good stuff.” He shifted the dish towel over his forearm and took a bottle from the cabinet. Holding it over his arm like a waiter, he asked in a French accent, “Would Mademoiselle care for a drink?”
I couldn’t help smiling. “Sure.” He poured from the fancily labeled bottle and brought it to me. It was rich and smooth. “Mmmm. Why didn’t you serve us this with dinner?”
“Aw, with the kid present, I wasn’t sure it would be right.”
Some guys make references to children in derogatory terms, but Johnny’s tone made his words affectionate. He was so sensitive to Beverley’s situation that it made me soften a little more toward him. I could almost feel it physically. Warmth spread over me, and I quickly said, “I’m going to take this glass up to Theo’s room, where I should be anyway, and relax in my window seat with a book. Thanks.”
I turned to leave. After a few steps I glanced back and, sure enough, he was staring at my behind. His eyebrows jerked, and he flopped the dish towel over his shoulder and went back to cleaning up the kitchen.
I climbed the stairs slowly, not because I was tired, but because I was thinking about what Nana seemed to be telling me about him, and then her complaining about the noise Celia and Erik had made. She didn’t like wæres, didn’t like my wolf friends, but she was pushing me to screw around with one. I wasn’t the Queen of Paradoxes—she was. Maybe I was in line for the throne, but at least I came by it honestly.
In the window seat, I sipped the wine. The night was full, and the stars were out. I glanced up through the skylights, then returned to studying the glistening dots through the west-facing window beside me. This dark was the only world the vampires knew—shit!
I had to get some extra protection into my wards, and pronto. Grabbing my Book of Shadows from the bottom dresser drawer, I returned to the window seat and flipped to the section about wards.
I heard footsteps on the stairs, and Celia came in. “I brought in your mail. Been out in the box all day.”
“Thanks.”
“This came,” she said gravely, holding up a stuffed manila envelope. “It’s from Theo. Mailed yesterday.”
She’d checked the postmark. “Okay….” I drew it out as if I didn’t understand the significance of that. Theo had said she’d dropped the material about Kline in the mail when she had called the night before last. It would have gone out after midnight.
“Were you expecting this? I mean, do you think she might have known she was in danger and sent something pertinent to you?”
“Oh! No. I’d asked her to do some research about a guy for me.”
“A guy? Anyone I know?” She grinned and slapped the envelope against her thigh; then her smile faded as another thought occurred to her. She lifted it back up. “This is a lot of info. Theo usually gets rap sheets, Seph.”
I had to be careful, but I felt certain I knew what Celia was thinking. “It’s for an article I’m writing. Not a candidate for boyfriend.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. She handed over the envelope.
Erik came down the attic steps. At five foot eleven, he had to duck his head to traverse the attic stairs. His lean, muscular body, befitting a drummer and a wære, sauntered into my room as he moved to accept a hug from his wife. He never dressed as stylishly as Celia, but it wasn’t from a lack of trying on her part. At least he accepted her advice on his hairstyle. His layered brown hair suited his face, though the thin beard made him look stern.
They went downstairs to get Erik some leftovers. I sat there with the envelope across my Book of Shadows. Did I open it now or later? Later, I decided, after I’d boosted the wards as best I could. Priorities.
Tucking the envelope under the Book of Shadows, I reviewed my options. I found notes on a technique a friend had shared with me not long after I moved in. I hadn’t used this amplifier technique yet. It had never been necessary. The fact that I felt I had cause to now made me sad.
I was unable to resist opening Theo’s envelope any longer.
Photocopies of newspaper and Internet articles slid into my hand. The first was the initial abduction article; whoever had written it had little info and just played up the tug-on-the-heartstrings angle. The article reproduced a school photo of a young boy with bright eyes and pale hair, nice-looking but awkward the way kids can be when they’re growing fast. There were also numerous printed-out Web pages from an online e-zine, Out of the Dark. I’d heard of it, knew it to be full of conspiracy theories like the ones surrounding the wæres as well as articles on UFOs and vampires.
The printout pages were all about known and suspected vampire activity, including official-looking minutes from Vampire Parliament meetings with lists of who attended and who had been absent. Theo had highlighted some names on the “absent” roster. The next page showed more absentees, also highlighted. This time there was a note on the side that Theo had written: Goliath suspected of assassinating these parliament members; they’ve not been seen since.
I scanned the article. The author had a smug sense of self-importance and a good head for word usage. Most Out of the Dark articles were written in succinct Web style or on a tenth-grade reading level like newspapers, but this one had polysyllabic words and deep metaphors. I’d have bet a vampire had written it. Who else would have access to such data and the ego to bother with the highbrow language? Why tell on one’s own, though? Maybe the author copied the style to avoid suspicion.
When I got over critiquing the article, I reread it to evaluate what it meant in relation to my situation. Goliath was clearly a highly trained and experienced assassin.
This Goliath guy—thank the Goddess—had, so far, left Beverley untouched and alive. If he found out I was the one who had asked Theo to check into his background, if he came here, would he leave anyone in my house alive?
My stomach knotted. I had endangered not just Theo, but everyone I cared about. I had to amplify my house wards now.
“Celia,” I said, entering the kitchen, “I need to—” I almost said “boost my house wards,” but thought she might wonder why I thought it necessary. Wait, that was okay. “I need to boost my house wards. If someone is after Theo and didn’t finish, I don’t want them getting in here. Would you cover for me for about fifteen minutes?” I hated having to think and rethink before I spoke. Goddess help me, I preferred honesty. How do habitual liars deal with all this?
She agreed, and I gathered the necessary items and hurried into the backyard with my Book of Shadows under my arm and a broom in hand. A set of old skeleton keys dangled from a big ring around my wrist like an awkward bracelet. In seconds, Johnny, who had been taking out the trash, was at my heels, following.
“Whatcha doing?” The childlike inquisitiveness in his voice made me smile.
“I’m going to increase the power on my home security system.”
“Wouldn’t a screwdriver work better than old keys and a broom?” The last word was dragged out, surely because he realized the nature of what was transpiring.