The Eldritch Conspiracy

32

It would have been a busy morning without the arrival of Okalani’s arm. As it was, it was insane. We vacated Adriana’s apartments, leaving the investigators to do their thing.

Bruno and Creede had hustled off somewhere with Dahlmar’s best mages to work on the tracking device that could be implanted in my body in case the worst came to pass. My hand was throbbing, and I glanced down at the curse mark on my palm to see it red and angry. Thanks to the late, unlamented Queen Stefania and her death curse, I’d had a lot of experience with worst-case scenarios.

My thoughts were dark, my mood darker. I had to do something to distract myself, so I went with Thorsen and Igor to look in on the people doing one last check of the various security measures. I had a vested interest in them. Still, if there were any weaknesses, I wasn’t finding them. Then again, neither was anybody else.

Noon came. We broke for lunch. I asked a servant to have food brought to my rooms and went there to eat and clean up. I’d gone to Adriana’s rooms in such a rush that I hadn’t even had a chance to brush my teeth, so I felt pretty damned scruffy.

There was a final check of the wedding regalia scheduled in one of the downstairs conference rooms at 2:00. So I ate, took a shower, and generally made myself presentable. By the time I was done, it was 1:30. I stepped out of the bedroom and into the living area to find Bruno, Creede, and an elderly man in a plain brown suit waiting for me, their expressions serious. They rose when I entered the room.

“Well?” I looked from one to the other.

“We did it.” Creede and Bruno both smiled. They looked tired but pleased. And well they should be. Breaking new magical territory on short notice and under pressure was something to be proud of.

“This”—Bruno gestured to the older man, who bowed—“is Dr. Ilia Bogdonavich. He’s going to implant the device.”

I started to roll up the sleeve of my blouse, but Creede shook his head. “Under the circumstances—” I had a sickening flash of memory of Okalani’s arm laying on Adriana’s bed.

“Right. Where do you suggest, Doctor?”

“The muscles of the abdomen or the gluteus maximus would be best.”

Stomach or ass. Hmnnn, not much of a choice. I reached for my belt. “Leave the room, boys.”

“Aw,” Bruno teased, “you’re no fun.” Creede just smiled and led him out into the hall, giving the doctor and me some privacy.

“This is going to pinch,” he said. Why do all doctors say that? And why are they always lying?

It didn’t pinch, it hurt. I had to remind myself that I’d asked for this. People had gone to a lot of trouble to arrange it for me, and it was for my own good. But I was still pretty grumpy as I followed Baker through the maze of corridors to the conference room for the fitting. It’s surprising how much you use your tail muscles to walk. I should have thought of that.

We arrived at more or less the same time as Adriana and her guards. My cousin looked much better than she had this morning. Her “wake-up call” had been shocking and sickening, but she’s a tough cookie. It had frightened her, no doubt about it. But she was channeling that fear into anger and determination. I admired her for it.

She’d dressed in simple jeans and a white cotton tee. I was wearing my usual black jeans with a blouse and a black suit jacket. Technically I was the better dressed, but she somehow managed to look elegant, chic, and oh so much more attractive. It was a trick she and Dawna both had mastered and I just hadn’t. I kept trying to figure out how they did it. Dawna said it was the fit—but Isaac had tailored this jacket. It fit perfectly. Whatever it was, I couldn’t do it.

“Are you okay?” Adriana asked.

“As much I can be,” I assured her. “You?”

“The same. Is it wrong to say I just want this over with?”

“No. I think that’s pretty typical of most brides at this stage of the game, and they don’t have to deal with terrorists. But hey, remember, this time tomorrow, you’ll be Mrs. Dahlmar, Queen of Rusland, and off on your honeymoon.”

She beamed at the thought, reaffirming my belief that this marriage wasn’t about politics; it was true love on both sides.

Baker opened the door, revealing a small room filled to bursting with clothing and people. One rack held the bridesmaids’ dresses; another, the exquisite cream and pearl confection that was Adriana’s wedding dress. Holding court in the center of the room, it drew the eye, and I found myself gaping at it as my cousin and I crossed the threshold. Only as the door swung closed and I felt the rush of magic did I realize that something was terribly wrong.

No one was moving. Isaac, on his knees on the floor, was frozen rigid, one hand reaching up to smooth the fabric of Adriana’s gown. Gilda was a statue, caught in midstep, her mouth open as if to speak.

Instinct took over. I shoved Adriana behind me and shouted for Baker. We needed out of here, now! Reaching behind me, I grabbed for the doorknob. The instant my skin touched the cold metal I felt the familiar lurch and the room and everything in it disappeared.