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Luc snapped his fingers, pointed at Ethan. “Yes. And, like, three percent medieval literature.”
“You’re both hilarious. Really and truly. Comedy geniuses.”
Mallory appeared in the doorway, stopped short when she saw the group of us. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just going to say hi.”
“No problem here,” Luc said. “I was just about to head downstairs.” He looked back at me. “Tomorrow, before Navarre House.”
I gave him a jaunty salute, and he disappeared.
“I’d like to go ahead and call Jeff,” Malik said, “get some tips about digging online into the Circle. If they have a strong cyberpresence, it seems likely they’ve pulled Navarre House into some of that. Might give us a head start on the forensic accounting work.”
“It’s a good idea,” Ethan said, and Malik waved, bowed out of the room, leaving the four of us.
“I hear you’ve had a night,” Mallory said, moving toward us. “But you both look to be in one piece.”
“We’re fine,” I said. “I assume Catcher filled you in?”
“He did, but not on the important thing—how did your father react to watching you fight? Was he utterly impressed?”
I hadn’t actually noticed, but his reaction after the fact had been telling enough. “I wouldn’t say impressed. At least for a moment, he thought we had set it up somehow.” I glanced at Ethan. “He’ll probably have things to say to both of us, separately, about how disappointed he is, about how the slate isn’t clean.”
“Ah, Joshua,” Mallory said. “Such a charmer.”
“That’s one word for it.”
“I actually wanted to see if you’d eaten, wanted to grab a bite.”
Ethan gestured to the cart. “Margot brought in a tray, and I believe she included bread, meats for sandwiches.”
“That actually sounds great,” Mallory said. “I didn’t go into the cafeteria; I wasn’t really sure how everyone would handle me being there, and I’m starving.”
“I told her to go anyway,” Catcher said. “She didn’t listen.”
“I rarely do,” Mallory said, moving toward the cart. “Can I help myself?”
“Please,” Ethan said. Mallory walked over and removed a dome from a tray, revealing a spread of cheeses and meats.
Most were standard, with a few odd bits thrown in. One of the meats was pinkish purple and looked as though it had been jabbed through with olives; there was also a blue cheese so heavy on the blue that it leaned toward indigo.
“So I’ll stick to cheddar,” I said, nabbing a small square of yellow-white cheese, relieved to find, when I bit in, that I’d picked the correct one.
“Why don’t we all grab a plate?” Ethan suggested. “I could use something substantial to eat.”
I bit back a smile as I piled cheese and meat onto some sort of multigrain bread, smiled as Ethan held up a small bag of salt and vinegar potato chips. “I believe Margot left these for you.”
“Offensively delicious,” Mallory and I said simultaneously, remembering one of our long-ago-agreed-upon conclusions. We grinned at each other, and since our hands were full, we bumped hips in a kind of high five.
And frankly, it felt amazing to share that connection with her, that sense of history and solidarity. We were the living memories of our friendship, and being friends again seemed to make those memories more real, bring them into sharper focus. She smiled at me, nodded just a bit, and I knew she’d had the same thought.
Chapter Eleven
SACRED AND PROFANE
We fixed plates, ended up at the end of the conference table, Ethan and me on one side, Mallory and Catcher on the other. Just like two couples on a double date, if a double date could be said to involve sandwiches around the conference table in the office of a Master vampire. But when times were troubled, as they so often were, you took your breaks when you could find them.
“How’s SWOB?” I asked Mallory, thinking it would be nice to grab a bit of someone else’s drama for a change.
“Good,” she said, nodding, holding a hand in front of her mouth as she chewed. “We’ve got a Web site, T-shirts, business cards.”
