Alarms whooped in my mind. Marius, Roux, Bene, and Henrik had just been there. Was Gordon about to send them back?
My godfather made a dismissive gesture. “Just message me. I’ll check later.”
“Well, there’s one pressing point,” she said, flashing me asorry/not sorrylook.
Sweat broke out on the back of my neck. Celeste could reveal to Gordon that I’d been to Mallorca. That I was sleeping with Marius. She could get me in so, so much trouble.
Then again, I could tell Gordon that her interference had nearly foiled the mission in Mallorca and that she’d met Marius earlier today. So, we were at a stalemate.
Her eyes taunted me with unspoken messages like,I slept with Marius first. I met Bene, Roux, and Henrik first. I am more beautiful, more cunning, and more successful than you’ll ever be.
The worst part was that none of those would be lies — depending on how one defined successful.
“I’ll just pop out to the washroom.” I scurried out, feeling very much like a country mouse again.
In the bathroom, I splashed water on my face and gave myself a stern lecture. Then I flushed the toilet, waited a few seconds, and marched back into Gordon’s office with my head held high.
“Almost finished?” I asked.
Gordon and Celeste looked up from a document on his desk, and only then did it occur to me that I could have snuck over to eavesdrop and peek at the documents. Heck, I could even have shadow-walked over.
Clearly, I wasn’t cut out for secret spy work.
“Well—” Celeste started.
“We’re finished,” Gordon told her firmly. “Thank you for your time. That will be all.”
“But—” Celeste protested.
“My goddaughter and I have much to discuss. Good evening.” He pointed to the door.
Celeste forced a smile, but her eyes shot daggers at me. Then she glanced at Gordon, one hand on her hip to draw attention to her generous figure. Her succubus charm didn’t seem to work on him, though, and no wonder. As a powerful warlock, he was immune to all kinds of magic. A good reason not to try shadow-walking around him, I realized.
Her heels clicked over the parquet floor, and she paused at the door. “Bon soir.”
“Bon soir,” I murmured.
Gordon waved without looking, making her even angrier.
She glared at his back, andwham!Magic coursed through me, opening a window into her mind. There, I saw a massive, multiscreen array worthy of NASA, but where every screen flashed images of her. Celeste, Celeste, Celeste — as far as one could see, in hundreds of different scenarios and calculations that created one monstrous, narcissistic display.
All that was packed into her mind. It was exhausting. Nauseating. Terrifying.
Reeling, I grabbed for the back of an armchair.
Gordon,I nearly whispered.Can’t you see that? Who she really is and what she’s planning?
Not that I could see exactly what she was planning, but I knew it was no good and that Gordon ought to be worried.
But he didn’t seem to notice, and I yanked my gaze to the windows before Celeste turned her glare toward me.
Then, whew. The door shut, and she was gone.
“Sorry for the interruption,” Gordon said. “Now, where were we?”
Personally, I was ready to go vomit into the toilet. Celeste’s inner machinations were that disturbing.
Instead, I grabbed a pitcher of water.
