I hesitated, then unlocked my phone and placed it in front of him. He made a quick motion with his hand, and energy stirred the air, forming a soft bubble around our booth. He’d raised a conversation shield—one that stopped others overhearing us butdidn’tblock out the din riding the rest of the room. The spell itself wasn’t a hard one—even I could do it—but the fact he’d raised it almost without thought hinted at the depth of his power.
He pressed the phone icon, typed in the number, and hit the call button. It rang for several seconds before a warm, slightly raspy voice said, “I take it there is a problem? You were not due to call until later this evening.”
Shock ran through me. I knew that voice. Knew the woman. It was Sophie Ashworth, the Society’s linchpin.
“A problem has arisen and, as I predicted, she is asking questions,” René said. “I think it best to come clean.”
“And she’s there with you?”
“Indeed. And listening.”
“Ah, well, as I’m sure you’ve already guessed, Hanna, this is Sophie Ashworth. René will explain what we are about, and from now on, you will share everything you have uncovered, orwilluncover, with him. However, anything he tells you mustnotbe placed in a report nor shared with anyone. Not even Ginny—until he clears it. That is a direct order.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, unable to keep the shock from my voice. “But... what of the security tape from Tane’s building?”
“Don’t submit it into evidence. I will deal with any questions that might arise about its location. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I repeated.
“Good. We shall talk later, then, René.”
And with that, she hung up. I sat back in my seat and stared at him for a second. “Of all the things I was imagining, it was not you being a Society operative.”
“That is just as well, because I am not.”
I studied him for a second. “Did you really call me a problem?”
“Yes, but a delightful one, to be sure.”
I snorted. “If not an operative, who and what are you?”
A waitress appeared and placed the antipasti plate containing a selection of salami, prosciutto, cheese, and cured vegetables between us. He motioned me to go first and, once I’d placed a selection onto my side plate, he did the same. “My name is René Jones, and I’m a company director and a philanthropist.”
Meaning, in other words, he wasveryrich. I mean, technically I wasn’t exactly poor myself, but he just didn’t give off that vibe. “Is it your company?”
“My father’s. The board is utterly capable of running the day-to-day business aspects of it, hence the philanthropy.”
“Does the company have a name? What sort of business is it?”
“It is called Diablerie, and we are in the business of magical accoutrements. We source, produce, and sell.”
My eyebrows rose. “Isn’t Diablerie a rather strange name for such a business, considering the word means black magic or devilry?”
“My father was nothing if not a strange man.”
His expression had closed over fractionally, suggesting further questions about his parent wouldnotbe appreciated. I decided to oblige... for the moment. “I’ve not heard of the company myself.”
“I’m surprised, given most of the royal lines have open accounts with us.”
Huh. I’d have to ask my dad about it. Maybe he could fill me in on either the father or the son. “How do you know Sophie?”
“Ah, well, that is a bit of a story?—”
“And I am in no rush.”
“Which is pleasing to hear.” He took a moment to eat some food. “Sophie was a friend of my father’s. Not lovers, just good friends, so I grew up with her in my life. She was, in many respects, his luminaire and my honorary aunt.”
Luminaire was an odd word to use, given it generally meant a leading or guiding light. And did her becoming his “aunt” mean he had no family other than his father? I wanted to ask, but the darkness once again dimming the silver in his eyes suggested that would be ill-advised.
