Sleight of Hand (36 page)

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Authors: Mark Henwick

BOOK: Sleight of Hand
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“I know Senor Matlal does good work with his orphanages and so on, but I find I can’t warm to him.” She shrugged. “Now that dress, my dear. Jen tells me it was made in Denver.”

We were close enough to my table, so I retrieved some cards from my bag.

“I don’t like people complaining there’s nothing different here and then shopping in national stores. Rather than live in a cultural wasteland, I believe we should support local enterprise. Lisa Macy made this for me and I think she and others like her deserve our encouragement.” I thought that summarized what Jen had said to me about local causes, and Ethel certainly liked it. She asked for two of Lisa’s cards and took one of mine.

“Oh, I love your card too. It’s quite outrageous. The sort of thing that gives Lloyd conniptions. I look forward to showing him later.” She chuckled and folded her hands in front of her, looking at me quizzically with her head to one side. “Why haven’t we met before, Amber?”

“Well, as it says on my card, part of my business is being discreet, and this sort of occasion isn’t.” We both laughed. “Very enjoyable though. Then, as well, I’m…” I struggled with how to put it. “I’m not well placed financially at the moment.”

“Oh my goodness, dear, none of us are, at the moment. We’re all poor as church mice.” She laid a bejeweled hand across her chest. “Wall Street! Simply appalling!”

“Yes,” I agreed weakly, struggling with the images of Mrs. Harriman being poor and my owning shares. “The stock market. And so on.”

“Well,” she said, patting my arm, “no matter. I knew if you were friends with Jen, you’d be sharp. Here’s my card and I hope you’ll be able to be less discreet in the future. You may not have a choice after tonight, my dear. Eligible bachelors will be all over you.” She smiled coyly, eyes seeking out Jen. “If they get a chance. And speaking of bachelors, here’s young Alex Deauville. I’ll leave him to you.” She sailed away like a galleon.

I turned.
Oh yum! Hot, hot, hot.
Alex Deauville had swagger and a lot of looks.

“I heard Ethel introduce me,” he said, holding out his hand. “Alex.”

“Amber,” I replied and smiled at him, shaking his hand. He was about six-two, strongly built, with broad shoulders, and his light brown hair was a bit long. His eyes were an uncertain color, between gold and green, and something untamed looked out at me through them.
Double yum
.

“Shall we dance?” he asked, with an undertone that suggested there might be other things we could try.

The demon leaped up. “I’m not sure. My last two partners have set a very high standard.” My eyes were saying yes, if he could read them.

Apparently he could read my eyes. He took my hand and, lifting it, led me back formally to the dance floor.

The band had suddenly decided to take a small break from Latin, and instead we had a waltz. I gritted my teeth and kept smiling. Alex’s hand came up into the small of my back and we stepped out.
One-two-three
I counted in my head until the body fixed on it and moved of its own accord. Not my best dance, but not what was uppermost in my mind either.

Hot I’d called it when I saw him, and hot he was; a heat that flowed out from him and collected in a pool in my belly. He smelled so good; beneath a dash of some cologne and male warmth, he made me think of pines and mountain meadows. Something inside me was sitting up and really taking notice in a way it hadn’t for far too long.

It was just a shame I wasn’t going to be able to do anything about it, without risking infecting him.

We didn’t speak. At first, I was pleased he was giving me an opportunity to concentrate on getting the steps right. But then once I had relaxed into it, he could have started to talk and he didn’t. I’d never danced a slow dance without talking before. Our eyes met. I think we both looked slightly surprised and the silence took on a shared quality that neither of us wanted to break. I was startled when the music ended and we came to a halt.

“Was that acceptable?” He grinned at me.

“Quite,” I replied, putting my hands behind my back like a teenager. “Ethel says we must exchange cards.”
Gimme your card, bad boy.

“Later. After our second dance.”

The demon wouldn’t let him get away with that. “If I’m not too busy.” I smiled over my shoulder at him as I walked back to my table.

Oh gods, dances with Jen, Matlal and Alex. I needed to sit down for a moment.

Jack Tucker was alone at the table. I snagged my drink and sat next to him.

“Mr. Tucker, good evening. I’m Amber Farrell.”

He grunted. “It’s Jack. Pleased to meet you, Amber. Are you enjoying the ball?”

“Very much. You’re not a dancer?”

He shook his head. “I’ll stay with what I’m good at.” He raised one brow at me. “You’re the Amber Farrell that’s just stuck it to Campbell Carter?”

“Not my intention, but yes.” Tucker would know Carter, of course. I steeled myself.

“Calling Carter an ass is libel against perfectly good donkeys.”

I laughed in surprise.

“Carter’s got such a hard-on for politics, he’s lost touch with his company. It’s not your fault that other people took advantage of that.” His mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “It’s typical of him and his type. The old-money set.”

“Well, it’s refreshing to hear your view. I expected to have to listen politely to a defense of poor, maligned Campbell.”

“You might yet, from others. Make no mistake, your actions have caused me considerable trouble. Considerable. But that wasn’t your intention.” He shrugged. “You’re obviously very skilled and maybe those skills might be put to use for me. I have lots of opportunities for a person who can stand up to a man like Matlal and provide security for someone like Kingslund.” He didn’t sound as if he liked either of them, and clearly, he hadn’t missed my turn on the dance floor.

Tucker took a long swallow of his wine and gave me a sideways stare. “You probably think I’ve got a chip on my shoulder about old money. But that Alex Deauville you were dancing with, he’s old money and I’ve got a lot of time for him. He tell you he’s a fully qualified doctor?” He snorted at my blank look. “No, didn’t think so.”

“What happened?”

Tucker shrugged. “Chucked it all and set up a trucking company. Parents disowned him. I liked his guts. Gave him his first contract. And you won’t find his drivers cheating him like Carter’s were.”

A banker I’d seen in the papers, Scott Borders, joined us. He and Tucker started arguing about business, which gave me an opportunity to study Tucker a bit more. Top of the list, my nose told me Tucker was spending a lot of time around Athanate. I couldn’t tell if he’d been bitten, but it wouldn’t have surprised me.

As far as I could tell, Borders was trying to get Tucker to take Lloyd McIntire onto his board. Tucker wasn’t having it and started to sound more and more extreme.

“This financial crash is what the world needed.” He stabbed a finger at Borders. “A wake-up call to get rid of these parasites and knock down the house of cards that they built. They’ll find all this inner circle shit won’t turn into credit when they want it. You think you’re in with them, you think you’re accepted, but you never are, never will be. Time has come to take sides.”

“You make it sound like the revolution is just around the corner, Jack,” I said, trying to calm it down.

He snorted. “I probably do. Now I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me. The one good thing that Matlal’s brought north with him is Inez, my fiancée, and she’s just arrived.”

I turned to see a dark-haired woman talking to Matlal. “You do business with Matlal?”

He snorted again as he got up. “Only because I have to. He’s not the cooperating kind, if you know what I mean.”

“Isn’t he old money, Jack?” Borders asked.

“You would think so to look at him, but he’s not. Born in a slum and made every single dollar himself.” He looked at me, his eyes turning cold. “Not like Kingslund. Take a word of advice, don’t ever need something from her. Might cost more than you can afford. And don’t ever make the mistake of thinking you know where you stand with her. A turn on the dance floor is fun, but you’d be well advised to keep away from her. Starting right now.”

I frowned. “That’s the second time someone has said something like that to me this evening. I’ll make up my own mind.”

Tucker’s face closed. He turned on his heel and walked away without another word. The woman looked around as he approached. She was pretty, with Spanish eyes and skin, and demurely dressed. An incongruous gold crucifix hung on a chain around her neck. She smiled at Tucker, then her eyes slipped past him and caught mine. I felt a little jolt, like when I looked into Diana’s eyes. There was no need for her marque to tell me she was Athanate.

Matlal looked past Tucker at me and the anger was still there. I turned away.

Interesting, Tucker working with Matlal and warning me away from Jen.

“He’s getting crazier by the minute,” muttered Borders.

I didn’t have time to think much more about it. I had a job to do and I didn’t want to sit around and give Matlal an opportunity to come after me again. Making my excuses to Borders, I started to work my way through the trade delegation, luring as many as I could onto the dance floor and giving them plenty of chances to pass me a message. About half of them were Athanate, and the majority of the delegates were men. It turned out that a number of the men had messages for me, mainly about how nice their hotel suites were. Some of the women seemed a little flustered at being asked to dance, but I got few refusals. There was definitely something to this dressing up. Even more than that, I got the feeling that all the Athanate were attracted to my marque, though none were as blatant about it as Matlal.

Despite Werner’s custom-made shoes, my feet were hurting by the time I was dancing with Arvinder Singh, the delegate from India. I was becoming anxious that the messenger had decided it was too risky to talk to me.

“I think I am letting the side down if I do not offer to show you my suite,” Arvinder said with a grin, and I laughed. “But indeed, it was amusing to see you dancing with Jennifer Kingslund. I was saying to my companions at the table, it is like a boat in a whirlpool, port and starboard, port and starboard.”

“Yes, the dress colors. We didn’t pick them for that, but…”

My words petered out. I could feel a pressure in my head, not exactly like Skylur or Diana. I stumbled and tried to get a barrier up. The pressure disappeared immediately.

Arvinder laughed as if I’d said something funny. “Please keep talking. I have a message for Diana and the best place for it is inside your head. It will not harm you, and I will not attempt anything else, on my Blood, I swear. I didn’t think you’d even notice.”

My mouth was dry. I wish I’d had better preparation than this. I had expected a note, a USB drive, something out of James Bond. Athanate didn’t work like that. But my instinct was to trust Arvinder.

“Okay,” I said, trying to smile. “Go ahead.”

There was the pressure again for a second and then it was gone. In its place was a presence, closed and cool and smooth.

“I am sorry to use this method without warning,” said Arvinder, “but it is very secure. Only Diana will be able to unpick this lock. You must understand, what I am doing is dangerous for my House.” He smiled pleasantly. “Please accept my apologies.”

I huffed. I was a bit upset, but at least I had gotten the message. All I needed now was to get back to Diana.

Arvinder did his best to entertain me for the remainder of the dance with deliciously barbed comments about the other delegates.

I kept going for another half-dozen dances, then I sat down, determined to get the weight off my feet for a while.

Alex came and sat beside me, bringing champagne in long flutes.

I smiled my thanks and our hands touched as I took one flute from him.
Purr.
Little thrills all over.

“Such an unusual bracelet,” he said. “Arapaho Wolf Clan style.” I held my arm up and his fingers traced the design. A slight frown creased his forehead, and I wanted to reach up and smooth it out. Or kiss it better.

“It’s a wolf’s eye,” I said. “It looks out for me.”

At that exact moment, it tingled.

 

 

Chapter 44

 

I snarled. The stupid bracelet thought Matlal only wanted me to play pony, now it was telling me I was in danger. Who? Carter?
Alex?

I swiveled my head, but there was nothing I could see except a ballroom full of people enjoying themselves. Jen was standing with her back to me, talking animatedly with three men not forty feet away. I couldn’t see Carter. Matlal and Tucker were standing arguing on one side, oblivious to me. The only person looking my way was one of the security staff. And Alex.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“My bracelet…no, nothing.” I shrugged it off and leaned towards him. “Jack Tucker tells me you were a doctor, then gave it up to run a trucking company. That’s interesting.”

Alex laughed. “Yes, Jack’s an original, isn’t he? But I’ll give him this, he sticks with you. He started me off with my first contract, and I’m still handling his shipping.”

I frowned. That hadn’t been quite what Jack had said to me, surely?

The bracelet tingled again. I groaned inwardly and looked at my watch. Just before midnight. I’d better check on security.

“Alex, I’m sorry. Just a moment.”

I lifted the comms unit from my bag and flicked it on.

“Reynolds, you still awake?”

There was compete silence from the headset. I checked the tiny LED, which showed the battery was good. I called him on my cell. Always good to have a backup when electronics are involved. The call went to voicemail. Shit. This might be a technical hitch, but suddenly I was believing my bracelet.

“Alex, I have a problem here.” I grabbed a card and thrust it in his hand. “I’ve got to go. Call me. I mean it.”

“Can I help?”

I smiled as I gathered Jen’s bag and mine. “Thanks, I appreciate it, but this is my line of work.”

I came up behind Jen. She was waving her arms as she described something to the three men. I looped her bag over her arm and pulled her close, gently taking the drink from her hand and passing it to a waiter.

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