Demon Song (24 page)

We’d arrived a little late because Emma desperately needed highlights. The guard stared at Dawna and the camera with a frown. She tipped her head just a bit to show off her gorgeous neck. We all smiled winningly and he finally let out a sigh and held out a pudgy hand. She squealed and bounced and we got together in front of the winery’s sign:
The Twins
. He snapped two pictures and let us see them on the screen before he pulled the camera away and tucked it in a jacket pocket. “You can pick it up on the way
out
. I’ll be here until everybody is gone. But I’ll lose my job if I let a camera inside, and I know you don’t want that.”

Dawna wasn’t the only one who could work facial expressions. He gave such a sad puppy face pout that we had no choice but to let out little maternal noises and give him a peck on the cheek. Then he picked up his radio and said, “Three more to pick up and then we’re ready to lock the gates, Dave. All invitations accounted for.”

Wow, we really were late. Oops. It was only a moment before we heard the hum of an electric motor. A golf cart modified to look like a horse-drawn carriage—minus the horse—pulled up to the gate. The guard opened the massive silver gates and bowed us inside. I walked toward the cart and felt the moment the magic barrier pressed against me. It was an oddly familiar sensation, but I couldn’t place why. I was through in moments, but it left the hair on my arms standing on end for nearly the whole trip up the path.

“Are you cold?” Emma leaned over as we rolled down the path. “You keep rubbing your arms.”

“I just feel a little weird. Did the barrier make your skin tingle?”

They looked at each other and then shrugged with heads shaking. “No.” Dawna looked at her arm. “Not really. It felt like a barrier. Maybe you’re having a vamp reaction. I’ll bet they stepped up the oomph on security for tonight.”

That was probably it. Fortunately, I’d stashed a couple of shakes in my purse. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that wine was going to taste horrible with chocolate, so vanilla was all I’d brought. Not my favorite but definitely more Chablis friendly. I drank it quickly, then tossed the empty can into a tiny, almost-hidden trash can beside the golf cart’s drop-off point.

We’d missed the early mixer, which was probably a good thing. I hadn’t realized how many of my clients would be here. From movie stars to singers and a few politicians, it was old home week, and many eyes lit up with surprise as I walked in. No bodyguards were allowed at the premiere, and that meant I was, gasp, a
guest.

Dawna likewise recognized a few people—mostly from dating them. She is so good at crashing high-end events that half of the beautiful people in L.A. probably think she’s some reclusive heiress, rather than a receptionist who’s still studying for a degree. Of course, now she really
was
an heiress, so it all worked out. Emma didn’t see a single familiar face, judging by her brief look of disappointment.

I took it upon myself to grab her hand and pull her forward. When she tried to pull away, Dawna realized what the problem was and grabbed her other hand. “C’mon, Em. I know just the person to introduce you to.”

I wondered who she was thinking of and started scanning the crowd. When I spotted him I smiled, because Dawna was right. He was perfect. Emma protested for just a moment until she saw the first frown from a guest. I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “We wouldn’t ever embarrass you, Em. Just give us a chance.”

Emma had always been the outgoing one in school, gorgeous and popular; I’d felt like the ugly duckling. To have the reverse happen was a bizarre feeling. But as my words sank home, she bucked up and stood straight and gave the frowning man a smile that was worthy of a homecoming queen. He let out a little chuckle and turned back to the group he was talking to.

A handsome man in the corner was our goal. He was tall and exotic looking, just the opposite of the so-American Emma. I’d guarded him on his way to a science award ceremony and Dawna had tried to date him because of his amazing looks. But she’d given up after one dinner, when he’d done nothing but talk about gene splicing.

Like I said … perfect.

“Remir? How are you?”

Emma’s mouth went wide when he turned those sapphire blue eyes our way. I didn’t blame her. It was like someone had set gemstones into a frame of aged honey pine. Gorgeous.

He reached out both hands for one of mine. “Celia Graves. What a wonderful surprise. I know so few people here.” He rolled his eyes. “Too much time in the lab, I suppose.”

“Remir, I’d like to introduce Emma Landingham. I think you two have a lot in common.” He turned his head and smiled at her and tipped his head just a bit in a
how so?
expression.

As I expected, Emma’s eyes had brightened. “Are you really Remir Sandrow? I loved your article in
Scientific American
last May. It’s no wonder you were up for the Nobel.” I hadn’t expected her to recognize Remir, but it should have occurred to me. Every field has its rock stars, and Remir was definitely one. They launched into a discussion about prokaryote cells and DNA and both Dawna and I were lost in moments. They never even saw us leave.

A gentle but piercing crystal bell caught our attention and I turned before I’d reached the next person I wanted to say hi to. I felt my heart rate speed up and let out a little internal cheer. While there’s nothing better than mingling with people in a non-work environment to cement a future work relationship, I wanted to get to the wine. The uniformed butler who had rung the bell looked as if he could be moonlighting from Buckingham Palace. “If I could have your attention, would everybody please come into the next room? We’re ready to begin.”

I smiled at Dawna and we started to move forward with the now-murmuring crowd. When I glanced back, I saw Emma and Remir deep in discussion, completely oblivious to the sudden absence of people in the room. Would she hate me if I interrupted? He was really giving her his full attention. I’d guarded him for nearly a week and I hadn’t seen him look at anyone like that. Or would she hate herself for missing the tasting? I asked Dawna, “What do you think? Should I tell them?”

Dawna looked back and took in the whole scene—from his hand, not so casually on the wall next to Emma’s shoulder, to her bright eyes and animated expression. “Nah. She’ll hate us. Let someone else spoil their moment.”

I agreed and went through the bejeweled curtain into the tasting room. Yay! At the front of the room was a small stage with a table covered by shimmering golden cloth. They were really pulling out all the stops for drama, building the anticipation, and I was loving every second of it.

The lights dimmed and two women walked out onto the stage and were hit by a spotlight. They were mirror images of each other, though with different-colored hair. They smiled at the crowd and picked up microphones. The blonde spoke: “Welcome, everyone, to our home.” She swept an arm gracefully to include the whole room. “I’m Pam.”

The redhead brought her mic to her mouth. “And I’m Sam. And we’re—”

“The Darby Twins.” They said the words together and everyone applauded. Pam lowered her mic and Sam kept talking. “You’ve been invited here tonight to share our excitement as we unveil a wine that’s the first of its kind in the world. You’re the very sort of connoisseurs who will most appreciate Witches’ Brew.”

What the—? First of its kind? Did they come up with a new variety of grape? There aren’t many different kinds of wine out there. I heard others asking the same questions in quiet voices that were barely audible. The scent of all of the expensive perfume and cologne was making me a little woozy in the closely packed room, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the sisters.

Pam picked up the story: “Sam and I come from a magical background. Our mother is a witch; and our father, a mage. The energy of the earth has filled our lives and we wanted to share that magic with you. We tried to figure out some way to make what we experienced available to others, and after long experiments and tests we discovered that we could actually infuse magic into the very soil where our vines grew … and that the grapes could absorb it.”

The whispering stopped dead.

“Excuse me?” A slender man with snow-white hair in the front row raised a hand. “Did you say there’s
magic
in the wine?” He looked around him, a bit blue around the gills. “Is that
legal
?”

Sam laughed easily, with no discomfort at all in her body language. “Oh, it’s very legal, and we can assure you there has been
exhaustive
testing for both purity and safety over the past two years. Each bottle bears the seal of the EPA and the certified organic emblem, plus symbols from the FDA and the MPRC, the Magical Protection and Regulatory Commission. This is why we’ve taken so long to introduce the wine. We didn’t want to risk any allergic reaction or other physical problems.”

Wow. Just wow. A magic wine. I shared a look with Dawna. Like me, she was now more excited to taste the wine than ever.

Pam picked up the mic again. “And now we’d like to introduce the man behind the magic. We searched long and hard to find someone who exemplified the
spirit
we wanted our wine to have. Proud and confident but with a soft finish. He’s world renowned for his skill and power and we’ve been beyond thrilled he’s been part of our journey. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome … John Creede!”

If I could have moved enough to faint, I would have. Wild applause filled the room until there was nothing but a roaring in my brain. I whipped around to stare at Dawna, and her sneaky smile told me exactly where our tickets came from. Creede stepped onto the stage and smiled and waved before hugging each sister. He was dressed in a traditional tux with a golden cummerbund that matched the decorations.

Not to mention the flame in his eyes. Wow.

Pam handed him her mic and he stepped over to the table. At his signal, Pam and Sam lifted the gold cloth and tossed it into the air. With a wave of Creede’s hand that would do any stage magician proud, the cloth disappeared.

Another round of applause came from the crowd, me included.

I found myself smiling. When Creede turned to the room, his eyes found mine. For a moment he seemed confused and his jaw dropped. He recovered in seconds, smiled again, and began his speech. “Thank you all for joining us here. It’s been really interesting, working with the Darby sisters in this venture. As many of you know, mages need to use their energy. We have to expend it somewhere. The more powerful the mage, the more there is to release.” I knew that from being around Bruno. My knives were part of that release. “Like many other practitioners, in the past I’ve concentrated on creating weapons for my business and the charm disk trade.” He spread his arms out with an expression of almost bliss. “But here at the vineyards, I’ve had the opportunity to give back to the very nature that provides my magic. It’s infused in the land, in the vines, and in the grapes. A little part of the magic that makes the world work is everywhere you walk. Please come forward and help yourself.” Another wave of his hand revealed long tables on each side of the room. I’d been wondering why everybody was squished together when the room seemed so much bigger. “We hope you enjoy the wine as much as the people who tasted it before you did.” He winked at the crowd and said, as an aside, whispering, with his lips right next to the microphone, “You know, the ones who gave us the gold medals in Europe.”

The tittering I heard around me said he had succeeded in ramping up the tension just a notch more. He’d never mentioned a word about this to me in all the time we’d spent together. It interested me that he would do something like wine making. I liked learning about unexpected talents in people I knew.

I tried to move forward toward the stage, but everybody else was heading for the tables and I wound up being forced in that direction. While I could have pulled on my supernatural strength and shoved my way through the crowd, it wasn’t really worth it. He’d still be there in ten minutes. So I let myself be propelled to a glass of Chablis. Dawna wound up at the other side of the room, where the goblets held Burgundy.

Two years of waiting, of reading bits of news and searching online for more information, were about to pay off. I raised the glass and inhaled deeply with both nose and mouth. The taste hit my tongue first—vanilla, chocolate, and just a hint of strawberries. But my nose picked up roses and oranges. How weird.

The glass tipped nearly of its own accord and smooth, cool liquid filled my mouth. The taste burst across my tongue—everything I’d smelled and tasted as well as some cantaloupe and fresh green grapes.

Then I heard the woman next to me, holding a glass of the very same wine, say, “Cherries with a woody overtone. It’s heavier than I expected, with more tannin, which is perfect. I normally don’t like white wines.”

I stared at my glass with furrowed brow. Were we drinking the same wine? I tapped her on the shoulder and she turned. She didn’t stare at my fangs, so I was being successful in hiding them. “I’m sorry to listen in, but I’m tasting chocolate and strawberries in mine.” I held up my glass. “Could we switch? I’m wondering if we have different varieties.”

Her elegantly painted brows rose slightly. “Interesting. I like strawberries. All right.” We traded glasses and I took a sip from the side of hers without the lipstick print. Her brow furrowed and so did mine. “It still tastes like cherries and wood.”