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In the hall, I turned left, toward the banquet tables at the base of the marble staircase. Black and white uniforms dotted the area. It seemed security had been increased, as Zenitha predicted. It was not the ideal night for a murder.
I spotted the drink table, searching the various bottles and crystal decanters for something that looked like brandy. I picked up each one, setting them down again in frustration. Each drink appeared to be wine. Maybe there was no brandy here. I wondered if I might be able to get away with something the color of brandy. I picked up a rosé bottle, lifting it to see if it might appear amber enough. No, not likely. And the ruse would be up the moment he tasted it anyway. I needed him to drink more than a sip if I intended to kill the man.
“Excuse me, milady,” said a voice from behind, the sound setting fire to my heart.
I knew that voice almost as well as I knew my own. I froze, forcing myself to keep my face forward. As much as I longed to turn and look at him, I couldn’t allow him to get a good look at me.
“You seem agitated,” he said. “May I help you find a particular drink?” he asked so kindly that my heart wanted to burst.
I set down the rosé bottle and raised my arm to wave enthusiastically at an imaginary person down the hall, pretending I’d spotted someone I knew. Then I quickly made my escape, keeping my back to Graham. I hurried back into the hall, past the library, and past the room where I’d left Pearce, searching for a place to call Cael on the radio.
I’d have to go outside.
I left the hall and crossed through the living room and out the back door beside the fireplace. The night greeted me with a warm breeze, carrying with it the scent of the ocean. Out in the fresh air, away from the perfumes and noise and an excess of nobles, I could breathe again.
I followed a flagstone path away from the house, between hedges and topiaries, protecting my skirts as I headed away from the bright light of the house and into the moonlit gardens.I couldn’t take too long and leave Pearce waiting—although I suspected he’d known there was no brandy to be found here and had forgotten about my existence entirely.
At a stone bench under a tree, I stopped and pulled the radio from my clutch.
“Come in, Immortal Ruskin,” I said, speaking far more respectfully to Cael than I ever had in case anyone near him could hear it. I hoped I’d sound like just another Enforcer.
Orchestral music and the buzz of a crowd came through before his voice did. “Immortal Ruskin Speaking. Who might this be?”
“It’s Graves,” I said in a low voice.
“Oh . . . I see.” He went quiet for a moment, and I imagined him stepping away from the guests. “What is it?” he hissed impatiently after several seconds.
“I need brandy,” I said. “It’s his favorite.”
“Brandy?” he said flatly.
“Yes, brandy. Bring some to the back garden and I swear I’ll leave you alone.”
“Fine,” he said, the radio falling silent.
Chapter
Twenty
I waitedon the cool bench beside the tree, fanning myself as if I were simply a lady overheated from dancing. I kept my eyes on the back door, eager for Cael to appear with the brandy.
But it wasn’t Cael who stepped through.
It was Graham.
I stared, hoping desperately that he wasn’t the one delivering it. The last thing I wanted was for him to be complicit in this. Cael had assured me he would not find out about our plans with Pearce. I’d decided that I could handle becoming a murderer. I already had blood on my hands, intentional or not, and adding another crime to my list was nothing, really.
Graham, on the other hand, deserved to remain good.
But fortunately, Graham carried no bottle. He simply stepped out, scanning the garden as if looking for someone.
I ducked, flattening myself against the bench, letting the trees and shrubs hide me from his searching eyes.
After a few long moments, I heard the door open and shut again, and I chanced a peek over the hedges.
Graham was still there, but a servant had joined him on the back patio, a glass in his hands. The servant bowed stiffly andthey stared at each other for a moment as if sizing up what the other was doing. Neither one spoke, as far as I could tell.
The servant remained there awkwardly, glass in hand, as if waiting for Graham to leave.
