Page 18 of Casting Butterflies

I shook my head. “The voice wasn’t very helpful. Just kept insisting I had to accept.”

“And you said yes because it offered a way to break my curse. Thank you.” For once, Cedric sounded humbled.

I shrugged. “I told you I’d do my best to help you get back to being yourself.”

“The voice might not have been able to offer a monetary prize but know that your actions won’t go unrewarded,” Cedric promised.

“Bah. Don’t worry about paying me. You’re my friend. Friends help each other.”

“I wonder where we have to go?” Cedric mused.

“Russia.”

The deep male voice had me spinning to see the intruder had returned, minus the mask. The tall man, with skin paler than snow, but who could hardly be called fairest of them all with his chiseled features, almost-shoulder-length platinum hair, which fell in waves, and the wide body that I’d noticed before, stood in the archway for the kitchen. Who knew thieves could be studs?

“Who are you?” I blurted out, wondering if I needed to grab a weapon. My frying pan remained in the kitchen, but I did have a candlestick in the living room. Dude might be handsome, but that didn’t make him friendly.

“I am Misha.” Just a first name, no last, and no apology for invading my house.

“And I’m Flo, the woman whose house you broke into.”

“The door was unlocked.”

“Ever heard of knocking?”

He rolled his big shoulders. “Seemed like a waste of time.”

Was he for real? I gave him my sternest look. “What you did is a felony. You entered my house without permission and tried to steal my necklace!”

“More like recovering it, seeing as how it belongs to my people.”

Wait, what? “Are you saying Ms. Papillon stole it?”

“Of sorts. It appears she took it from the original thief. When it surfaced, I was sent to collect it.”

“If you wanted it so badly, why didn’t you go to the auction and buy it?”

“I would have, but my flight was delayed and I arrived too late,” Misha’s disgruntled reply. “However, the gentleman who sold it to you provided me with your information.”

“And you thought… I’ll just break in and steal it?” I crossed my arms, the bottle of vodka I still gripped sloshing. “Did it never occur to you to maybe ring my doorbell and ask?”

“As if you’d have sold it to me,” he scoffed.

“Guess we’ll never know,” my tart reply. “Anyhow, you can have it. I want nothing to do with the damned thing.”

His lip curled. “You would say that after you stole its power.”

He knew about the magic. Rather than ask about it, though, I replied to his accusation. “Stole?” I arched a brow. “Hardly. I merely touched it and some stupid voice began insisting I accept some kind of quest.” I gave an abbreviated version of what happened. seeing as how he obviously knew more about the amulet than I did. Perhaps he could offer a clue as to what I had to do next.

“Anivivi spoke to you?” Misha said in an incredulous tone.

“The what?”

“Anivivi. What you would call a spirit.”

“Yes, it spoke, and it was annoying. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. As if I want to be saddled with a task that will put me in danger. Even more irritating, the voice told me I’d have to travel, but does it tell me where? No. Of course not. Just like it wouldn’t explain what it expected of me. And worse, it expects me to do all this for free because I totally have the funds to ditch my job and run off on some stupid quest.” I glanced at my cat. “No offense, Cedric.”

“None taken,” his dry reply.