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“In a good way or a bad way?”
“It could go either way.”
“Tell me what I’m thinking now.”
“You’re testing me to see how accurate I am, and you wonder if I could give you a read on Katie, here. Sorry, no can do. It won’t work on her. And I’m a seer, not a clairvoyant, so I can read your future. I can get a sense of your fate. I can find lost people. But I can’t read your mind.”
“I thought you just did.”
“Only because it was painfully transparent. Heck, I bet Katie here could have read that one off you, and she doesn’t have a drop of magic in her.”
The conversation ended when the waiter returned to take our orders, and then we made small talk over lunch. Under Minerva’s casual questioning, I learned far more about Roger than I had in the whole time I’d been working with him. For instance, his father had apparently been a big player in the company he worked for (I assumed he meant the Collegium) but had fallen afoul of someone in the hierarchy. His mother used to work for MSI, a long time ago. He’d been top of his class at Harvard and had an MBA, in addition to being a trained wizard. Basically, he was the preppie from hell. He played golf and tennis, summered at Martha’s Vineyard, where he kept his sailboat, and all those little things that sounded like something out of a movie. He was single, not even dating, because he was focused on his career and his last two relationships had ended badly (he didn’t mention the frog to Minerva).
I watched and listened in awe. I’d never have had the nerve to ask him those sorts of questions, but she got away with it by acting like she already knew the answers and was checking her facts. I couldn’t tell whether or not he realized just how much he was being manipulated. It was all rather brilliant, and I was getting a clearer picture of why he was doing what he was doing. He was trying to get back for what had happened to his father, and maybe avoid getting himself into a similar situation.
We ended the lunch with a promise to get in touch with Minerva, and as soon we were back in our car—the windows blacked out again—Roger asked me, “Do you think she’s worthwhile?”
“I’ve never known her to be wrong.”
“How loyal do you think she is to MSI?”
“From my understanding, she worked directly under the previous president. So her loyalty may be more to him than to the current boss.” I thought that he could read into that what he wanted. The statement of fact was true, but I’d presented the interpretation as merely a possibility.
He leaned back against his seat, a smugly satisfied smile on his face. “I don’t see how she should have a conflict of interest, unless she sees what I plan to do to that company and to her boss and she has to decide what to do with that knowledge. Not that I’d give her the chance to tell anyone.” He said it so casually that unless you’d seen what he did to people who
crossed him, you might not have realized he was making a threat. It sounded like it was no different to him than talking about picking up milk on the way home. I forced myself not to shudder.
We had to stop this guy, preferably in a way that totally neutralized him. I almost felt sorry for the higher-ups in the Collegium, with him gunning for them. Somehow, I doubted he’d put them carefully in an indoor frog pond. He’d probably throw them right out into the street to be run over by a truck.
When we returned to headquarters, Roger took me straight to my new office. I no longer entered past Evelyn’s office or went through the reception area. I had a direct path from the gallery around the atrium to Roger’s immediate domain. He hadn’t been kidding about my new office being larger. It was bigger than my apartment, with a large L-shaped desk and a full-sized sofa. The window had the same London view as from Roger’s office next door, which made me wonder yet again if it was a faked view or a real one. Maybe there was some kind of portal in the hallway, and we really were in London.
“What do you think?” Roger asked, sounding strangely eager to please.
“It’s beautiful.”
“If you want some decorations, something to personalize it, talk to Evelyn. She can let you choose some paintings and plants.”
“Okay, great. And now I guess I’d better go back and get that book.”
He grinned. “Yes, that’s one thing we couldn’t bring for you. I’ll let you get to work.”
*
I didn’t hear from Owen again for days, which was probably smart on his part because it kept us from doing anything that looked suspicious, but I still missed him terribly. Friday night, I was copying out the spell I’d memorized that day and trying to decide if I should cook something or call my friends to go out when the front door buzzer sounded. “Pizza delivery,” a voice on the intercom said, and I grinned because I recognized that voice.
“Come on up,” I said, hitting the button to unlock the door, then I flew to my own door and flung it open.
When Owen reached my floor, I saw that he’d really immersed himself in the role. He wore a jacket with the logo of a neighborhood pizza restaurant and a ballcap with the same logo. He carried an insulated case. I started to speak, but he held a finger to his lips, and I nodded, stepping back to allow him inside. “That’ll be twenty-seventeen, with tax,” he said.
“Let me get my purse,” I said.
We both paused for a moment, after which he said, “Thanks, miss. You have a good evening.” He opened and shut my door, then he waved his hands, doing something complicated with his fingers. When it was done, he said, “I knew that silence spell would come in handy eventually.”
I let him put the pizza down on the coffee table before I threw myself into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much,” I said, showering him with kisses.
He laughed as he staggered backward under my assault. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back.
After that had gone on for a while, I asked, still clinging to him, “What kind of pizza is it?”
