security being so tight. Most of the
restaurants are on the other side of the
island.”
Okay, that had me totally confused.
Yeah, I was on Serenity. But Gran has a
lovely apartment in an assisted living
facility in Santa Maria. “Gran, what are
you talking about?”
“Serenity, of course. Didn’t Dawna
tell you? I sublet my place on the
mainland and moved here so that I could
see your mother more often without
having to make a long, expensive trip.”
What the hell? No, Dawna hadn’t told
me. Of course, her grandmother might
not have told her. Or Dawna might have
lost track, what with all her own
wedding stuff going on.
I made myself sound cheerful as I
said, “Well, now we’ve just got to get
together. After all, I’m already here.
Have you been to the compound? It’s
amazing. You really should see the
place. We can have a good, long visit.”
“Oh, I’d like that. I really would.” She
sounded as if she meant it, but I could
still hear a little thread of something
fishy in her voice. Whatever it was, I’d
find out when I saw her. Gran has never
been able to keep a secret, and unlike my
mother and me, she’s dispositionally
incapable of being sneaky. “I’ll check to
see when the shuttle runs out there.”
Okay, that wasn’t good. Normally
she’d be having me drive her. Why
didn’t she want me to see where she
lived? I opened my mouth to say
something, but she was babbling, trying
to make sure I didn’t get the chance to
ask any pointed questions.
“And honey, I want you to know how
proud I am of you. My grandbaby, in a
royal wedding! It’s so exciting. You’ll
have to tell me all about it. I can’t wait
to see the dress you’ll be wearing. I bet
you’ll look so pretty.”
“Thanks. I’ll see what I can do. In the
meantime, it’ll take me a little time to
work out the details, but I’ll get back to
you as soon as I can. Okay?”
“You do that, honey, you do that. I
love you, baby.”
“Love you, too.”
I hung up the phone with mixed
emotions: Love, frustration, and worry
mingled with happiness at having
actually heard her voice for the first time
in months. My gran is a good woman.
She isn’t perfect, but who is? But she
was
hiding
something—probably
something about my mother. I was going
to find out what it was.
21
“I’m supposed to be guarding you.” I
kept my tone light and pleasant, but
inside I was seething as I sat in Queen
Lopaka’s office, having a “brief
conversation” with my cousin. Adriana
had begun using her mother’s office
when Queen Chiyoko arrived; I bet that
had been a calculated move, to prevent
Chiyoko from going through Lopaka’s
things and to keep people from getting
used to seeing Chiyoko in Lopaka’s
place.
Adriana had practically begged for
my help when we’d had lunch on her
yacht. Now I kept getting shunted aside.
First she’d left me behind to get the
dresses. Then she’d said that I wouldn’t
be needed today as she’d be in meetings
and a state dinner. Tomorrow, because
she’d be in meetings all day, she
suggested I go shopping. Shopping, for
God’s sake. What the hell? It was worse
than annoying. It was insulting.
I know, and I am sorry. But none of
the prophets, myself included, sees any
threat to me this evening, and I would
rather not have … tension between you
and those previously assigned to guard
me.
Tension? I hadn’t been tense, but now
I was getting that way. Was there some
sort of political pissing matching going
on among the security agents? Because
that’s the surest recipe for betrayal.
Celia, please? For me? I do
understand how you feel. But it was
bodyguards you were needed on the
mainland. We used the excuse that you
had actual experience with monsters.
But we are on Serenity now.…
I saved your life on the mainland,
and it wasn’t from monsters.
She sighed. Yes, you did. And it made
the others look bad. They died and you
survived.
I suddenly put two and two together.
Which made things worse. There was
only your word, and mine, that the
gunmen killed the guards.
I wouldn’t have thought it possible,
but yes.
That is so stupid. But typical. People
don’t rise to the level of bodyguarding
members of a royal family without drive
and ambition. Pride rides right along
with those. No doubt some of the agents
were just fine with me. And some of
them weren’t. Their skill was being
called into question. How could it not
be? Probably the same thing was
happening with Dahlmar’s people.
Miller & Creede would definitely make
all but the best look bad.
Adriana was trying to soothe the
wounded pride of both loyalists and
detractors. I let out a slow breath. So
long as it doesn’t actually put you at
risk, who am I to argue? We need your
people on their game and at their best,
not distracted by petty bullshit. I guess
I can be big about it. Fine. I’ll shop.
I’m going to need a couple more
lavalavas anyway. And it’ll give me a
chance to check in on my gran.
She nearly collapsed in relief. I
understand rock and hard place. Been
there. Thank you. Truly.
I shrugged. Whatever. But you realize
that this is making me totally useless.
Her face actually showed surprise at
thi s. No! That’s not true at all. You
saved my life and that of my mother on
the mainland. A couple of sentences
from you in the back of the limousine
has discomfited my mother’s greatest
rival more effectively than all of my
reasoned arguments. You have been far
more helpful than even I’d imagined
you could be—and you don’t know our
culture all that well.
I blinked at that. I had?
Adriana stood and walked to the
window, keeping her back to me. Her
hands were clasped lightly behind her
back; for all appearances to anyone
watching, she wasn’t meeting with
anyone at all. Celia, I am not fond of
Queen Chiyoko. I can admit that. But I
am coming to bel
ieve that she actually
is trying to do what she believes is
right for our people. She believes you
would be a disaster on the throne and
that my mother needs a true heir, one
steeped in our traditions and beliefs,
who can rule our people.
Well, she was right about that.
Especially after hearing some of their
“traditions
and
beliefs.” Well, I’m
definitely not your girl. I can’t even get
the
support
of
your
freaking
bodyguards.
Adriana flinched at the bitterness in
my words, hanging in the air, but didn’t
argue the point. She walked back to the
desk, then picked up and put on a lovely
pearl ring, part of a suite of jewelry laid
out for her. She continued to speak with
her mind, which was getting tiring for
me. Not tiring, as in I was annoyed, but
tiring, as in exhausted.
I understand her concern, and would
be more forgiving, were it not that she
is so determined to use this situation to
take my mother’s place as high queen.
Adriana put on the last of her jewelry
and stepped toward the couch where I
was sitting. Now she spoke aloud—she
had shut me out of her mind as easily as
closing a door. Someday, I vowed, I was
going to be able to do that. Projecting is
all great and good, but I was sick to
death of having sirens and other
telepaths wander in and out of my
thoughts at will. If it took training and
practice, I’d train and practice. Some
thoughts should not be available for
public consumption.
“Shall we? We don’t want to be late.”
Adriana gestured toward the door. I
walked out ahead of her and was
pleased when Baker and Griffiths
immediately fell in around us. I forced
myself to smile, smile, smile as we went
to join King Dahlmar and the others for a
private dinner.
The dining room we were using
tonight was elegant, decorated in shades
of sea green, turquoise, and gold. There
were two layers of linen covering the
tables, a dark teal underlayer covered by
creamy white. The dishes were fine
china, and above each place setting was
a small bowl made from half an abalone
shell, cradling flowers floating in water.
The effect was lovely, and the room
smelled wonderful even before the food
started to arrive.
I had fully intended to sit next to
Adriana, but we were the last to arrive
and there was only one place open at
Dahlmar’s side. Adriana smoothly
crossed the room to greet Dahlmar, who
rose … followed quickly by everybody
else. My cousin’s fiancé helped her into
the seat between him and Natasha, then
sat. I took the last remaining chair,
between Olga and a man who didn’t
appear to be either Ruslandic or Siren.
The staff began moving about, pouring
water, bringing in baskets of fresh baked
bread that smelled like heaven. I wished,
mightily, that I could eat bread, but that
was not going to happen. So I turned my
head away and distracted myself as best
I could by checking out my dinner
companions.
It turned out that the man I didn’t know
was the American ambassador, so at
least we could talk about the weather
and television we liked. Olga pretended
not to know English, which suited me
fine.
Dahlmar and Adriana only had eyes
for each other. They were in love, pure
and simple. He acted proud, protective,
and possessive. She practically glowed
every time she looked at him. I was very
happy that they’d found each other.
Next to Adriana, Natasha looked …
odd. There was a strangely vacant
expression on her face, as if she weren’t
quite all there. The movement of her
hand as she reached for her water glass
was jerky and uncoordinated, so it was
no surprise that she knocked it over.
Everyone jumped, and in that instant of
distraction I felt the flare of magic and
saw a drop of golden fluid being slipped
into Adriana’s water glass out of the
corner of my eye.
“Don’t drink that,” I ordered as
Adriana lifted the glass while servants
cleaned up the spill and cleared away
the plates from the first course. I leapt to
my feet so fast that my napkin and fork
went flying. In the next heartbeat, I was
at Adriana’s side, reaching for the glass
and her wrist.
She froze, giving me a wide-eyed
look.
King
Dahlmar’s
expression
darkened. He took the glass from her
hand, turned to me and said, “Explain,
please.”
“There’s something wrong with
Natasha.” I gestured toward her.
She was the only person who hadn’t
pulled away from the table, stood up, or
otherwise reacted to my racing to the
rescue. Even now, though her name had
been spoken and people were looking at
her, she just sat there, staring blankly
into space, her expression empty and
dazed.
“I’m guessing it’s a compulsion spell
of some sort. She slipped something into
that glass while you were all distracted
by the spilled water.”
A man suddenly appeared beside me.
As he stepped into view, I realized I had
seen him sitting at the table when
Adriana and I had entered the room and I
had instinctively “cased” the joint. So,
family, friend, or member of the
wedding. But clearly, more than just that.
He bowed slightly to King Dahlmar. “If I
may?”
The king gave a curt nod. “Please do.”
Who the hell is this? The way he
spoke to Dahlmar made it obvious he
was with the Rusland contingent. He
reminded me a bit of the late, and
sincerely
lamented,
Ivan,
King
Dahlmar’s personal bodyguard. Ivan had
been one scary SOB. A mage of
considerable skill, Ivan had once gotten
his king safely out of an attempted coup
and out of Rusland without a scratch.
This man was cut from the same cloth,
only better-looking—tall, dark, and very
handsome. His hair was cut close to his
head; there was a touch of gray at each
temple. He had a square jaw, penetrating
hazel eyes, and the kind of aristocratic
bearing that made me wonder if he was a
royal cousin. I knew from Baker’s
briefing that the king’s bes
t man was a
friend from his childhood. Perhaps this
was that man.
Most people in Natasha’s position
would have moved or reacted by now—
protesting the accusation, arguing her
innocence—even if she was guilty.
Instead, the bridesmaid was a prettily
dressed-up doll with nobody home in
her eyes.
Still holding the water glass, the man
moved with liquid grace around the
table until he was standing over Natasha.
I felt power rise in a warm, liquid rush
as he began murmuring. There was a
sharp flare of heat and a sound like a
gunshot. Natasha stiffened in her chair
and shrieked something in her native
language.
He spoke, his tone one of complete
command. I didn’t have a clue what he
said, but I could tell he wasn’t talking to
Natasha. Somehow he’d trapped the
person controlling her and was forcing
him or her to answer questions using
Natasha’s mouth.
“Damn it. I have got to learn
Ruslandic,” I muttered softly. Dahlmar
overheard
and
began
translating,
speaking so quietly I don’t think anyone
else could hear.
“Igor used Natasha to form a link to
the witch who had taken use of her body.
The witch swears she was not trying to
kill Adriana, that she is not connected to
the Guardians of the Faith.”
I thought furiously. “What did she put
in the glass?”
“Igor?” Dahlmar demanded.
The mage barked the question in
Ruslandic. Natasha screamed again,
twisting and turning in her seat as though
pinned in place.
“Peanut oil,” Igor answered.
Adriana paled a little.
I turned to her. “I take it you’re
allergic to peanuts?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “But it
wouldn’t have killed me.”
Natasha shouted something that I
didn’t understand, but suspected was
along the lines of “See, told you.”
“What would happen?” Igor asked.
“I’d break into hives. They are
miserable, and last for days.”
“And wouldn’t you look just lovely in
all your wedding photos?” I noted
sarcastically.
It was a petty, catty, and very feminine
thing to do. At that moment I believed
what the witch had said. The Guardians
of the Faith were into bombs and shoot-
outs, maximum carnage, maximum press
coverage: in short, terror. This was the
exact opposite. It had all the signature
markings of the usual siren bullshit. If