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What was Dimitri up to now though? Caleb knew Dimitri was part of a coven, a community of the gifted, but the idea had never really appealed to him. But Caleb was bored, so he hung around, listening to him bragging about connections and implications.
“You’re between projects,” Dimitri continued. “Why not use the time to learn more about your gift?”
“I know enough.”
“How do you survive without people around you?”
“I have people around me. They’re not into the secret side of my life, but it doesn’t bother me.”
“I suppose you always were a bit of a loner.”
Necessity, given his circumstances, but he didn’t say it. “I don’t like to rely on other people.”
“You could charm the birds out of the trees if you wanted to, especially with a coven behind you.”
“That’s the key. I don’t want to be part of a community.”
Dimitri carried on regardless, determined, it seemed, to convince him. “I can put you in touch with my coven mistress. She’s looking for someone like you.”
Caleb gave a derisive laugh. “What does that mean, ‘someone like me’?”
“Someone who isn’t very well known in the network.”
So that was it. There was an ulterior motive. It should have warned Caleb off and he knew it, but he was bored. He was indeed ‘between projects’ and he was looking for a new challenge.
“Drusilla knows everyone,” Dimitri continued. “She’d have access to information about you.”
“What’s in it for her?”
“Trust you to think like that.”
“A businessman has to think about it from all angles. Besides, you already said she wants an unknown.”
“So I did.” Dimitri pursed his lips.
Had he overstepped the mark? Caleb was curious. “What does she want? Money?”
“Money isn’t an issue. She does want something in return, a favor most likely.” Dimitri swallowed down the rest of his drink. “Why don’t I take you round to her place now, introduce you?”
Caleb didn’t have any pressing engagements. Perhaps that was why he was tempted by Dimitri’s suggestion. He didn’t need to know about his beginnings, it didn’t matter anymore. He’d established his life independently. He didn’t need anybody. The curiosity was there though, and it kept him from taking off and leaving Dimitri to entertain himself with his arm candy.
“I told Drusilla about you. She said she might have known your mother.”
Caleb sipped his drink and tried not to react. It was bait, wasn’t it? He couldn’t be sure.
Dimitri rose to his feet, pushing a wad of notes into his companion’s hand as he did so. “The chance might not come along again.”
Caleb had the urge to silence Dimitri, but deep down the questions were always there, whether someone was baiting him or not, so he decided to go along with it. That’s why he left the club bar with Dimitri that late summer Sunday night, because he was bored and curious, and maybe he did want to stretch his wings.
Dimitri hailed a taxi and they crossed London from the West End to the luxurious hotels close to Buckingham Palace. Their destination was an elegant self-contained apartment attached to the most salubrious hotel in London.
Caleb had heard of Drusilla Cavendish, albeit mostly from Dimitri and his cronies. She had a formidable reputation, and he’d heard that if you weren’t with her you were against her, an enemy to be brought down. So he entered the apartment warily. Drusilla was notoriously hard to impress but he learnt from others in London she was the one to be connected with, if a coven was your thing. Which it wasn’t, for Caleb.
A tall, suited man with a shaved head opened the door to them and nodded when he saw Dimitri, ushering him in. He remained by the door, safeguarding the entrance. Caleb scanned the surroundings. The place was luxurious, marble pillars and high ceilings. The furnishings were Moorish in style, expensive. Recognizable masterp
ieces punctuated the walls. A life-size sculpture of a young ballerina stood in the reception area, her arms outstretched, her hands throwing off heavy chains, her expression exalted. A visitor had to choose which side to navigate, to get past it.
Drusilla lay on a red velvet chaise longue, propped on one elbow elegantly, as if she knew they were on their way. She wore a black silk dressing gown, and little else. Her features were distinctive, some might call them regal. Her waist length black hair was secured loosely and draped over one shoulder, tied at the end with a scarlet ribbon.
