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Saiman’s handsome face jerked. “I had no idea you’ve studied Jewish mysticism. How interesting . . .” He let his voice trail into silence.
Jewish scholars wrote down everything and hoarded their records as if they were made of gold. Half of what I knew about my family came from those scrolls and I had studied them since Voron taught me to read.
I looked at him. “Is there a way to restore the rest of the parchment now that we know to whom it belongs?”
He leaned back. “The Temple on Peachtree possesses a secret room. Within the room there is a magic circle. If you stand inside the circle, provided you’re strong enough, it will use your magic to restore the writing to its original form. The chances of success are much higher if the writing is of Hebrew origin.”
Finally. I’d get a fix on the Steel Mary. About time, too.
“Of course, you have to wait until the magic is up for the circle to work, and given that the wave ended early this morning, I’d say getting into the Temple today isn’t likely. A word of warning. First, the circle may drain you dry; second, there is a price for using the circle, and I won’t be able to help you. I’m afraid I’m a persona non grata in Jewish houses of worship. I do suspect that if I were to venture into Toco Hills or Dunwoody and were discovered, I may have to fight my way out.”
I blinked. “What did you do?”
Saiman shrugged. “Let’s just say that a certain young rabbi was rather zealous in his study of sin. He was happy to trade privileged information for that knowledge and I was happy to instruct him.”
Ugh. “You seduced a rabbi.”
Saiman smiled. “I seduced several. But the last affair was the only one to have exploded into the public eye. A pity, too. He was a proverbial font of sensitive information.”
I almost laughed. “So why not go as someone else?”
Saiman wrinkled his lip in disgust. “They have a golem. It sniffs the odor of your magic, and it is, alas, infallible. I’ve tried. Have I proven my usefulness to your satisfaction?”
“Yes. Don’t worry, I remember. Dress, tonight, your company.”
“Actually that’s not what I had in mind. I hope to receive an answer to a question.”
I arched my eyebrow at him.
“What is wrong with your chair?”
Perceptive bastard. “I’m sorry?”
Saiman leaned forward. “You move while you sit, Kate. You touch your sword to make sure it’s there, you change the angle of your body, and so on. You’re chronically unable to sit still. But you haven’t moved since we began our friendly chat.”
I raised my head. “My butt is glued to my chair.”
“Literally or figuratively?”
“Literally.” Say something. Make my day. I could still kick your ass even with the chair on my butt.
A little light danced in Saiman’s eyes. “How peculiar. Was it a practical joke?”
“Yes, it was.” And the joker would get a piece of my mind as soon as I managed to detach myself from the furniture.
“I found that, in cases like this, the easiest way out is to remove the trousers. Of course, it might be a soluble glue. Would you like me to take a look?”
“No, I would not.”
Saiman’s lips quivered a little. “If you’re positive.”
“I am.”
“It really is no trouble.”
“Examining my butt is not included in our agreement. My parchment, please.”
Saiman passed me the plastic bag and rose. “Do let me know how it turns out.”
“Go away.”
He chuckled to himself and departed. I took a gulp of my coffee. Cold. Eh. At least my blueberry doughnut would taste the same hot or cold. Except for one small problem—I’d left the doughnut on the outer side of the desk and getting to it would require me to get up.
My phone rang. I picked it up.
“Acetone,” Andrea’s voice said. “Dissolves everything. I found a gallon of it in the armory. We soak the chair and you’re good to . . . Oh shit. Incoming!”
I dropped the phone and grabbed my sword.
Curran stepped through the doorway.
“You!”
My attack poodle surged off the floor, teeth on display.
Gold sparked in Curran’s eyes. He looked at the poodle. The dog backed away, growling under his breath.
I ground the words through my teeth. “Leave my dog alone.”
Curran kept looking.
The dog backed into the wall and lay down.
Curran strolled in, carrying some sort of garment. “Nice dog. Love the sweater.”
I’d mince him into tiny, tiny, tiny pieces . . .
“I changed my mind about the catnip.” He held up the garment. A French maid outfit, complete with a lacy apron.
Slayer’s hilt was smooth in my fingers. Beast Lord or not, he did bleed.
The poodle growled.
Curran hung the outfit on the back of the door and approached my desk. That’s right, come closer. Closer. Closer . . .
He struck at the desk, preternaturally fast. Tiny hairs rose on the back of my neck. I barely saw it. One moment his hand was empty, the next it held my doughnut. He bit it. “Mmm, blueberry.”
In my mind, his head exploded.
“Hard to protect your food with your ass anchored.” He saluted me with the doughnut. “When you’re ready to talk, call me. You know the number.”
He walked out.
CHAPTER 15
THE MOMENT ANDREA SQUIRTED ACETONE INTO my chair via syringe, the glue decided to have a chemical reaction, which set my behind on fire. It took me less than five seconds to cut through my pants. It took approximately half an hour before I dared to land again and I had to spend my day sitting on a bag of ice, which I had chipped from the street outside. The ice was cold and my ass hurt.
The tech held for the entire day. I called the Temple and requested an appointment, tentatively scheduled for tomorrow noon, if the magic was up. After being put on hold twice, I was told that the rabbis would see me. Kate Daniels, master of the phone.
I spent the day poring over the Steel Mary case history and learned pretty much nothing new. A check with Biohazard and PAD revealed no new developments. The magic was down and the Steel Mary stayed dormant. We all sat on our hands, or in my case, on ice, and waited for the trouble to start.
At the end of the day I went home and took a nap. When I awoke, the sun had set. The city beyond my barred windows lay silent, frozen in the winter gloom.
Time to get gussied up for Saiman’s date. Oh joy.
