The Dreamer's Curse (Book 2) (22 page)

His jaw nearly came unhinged. “de Luca?! He’s famous for
running one of the largest black markets on the eastern border of Mander!”

“I know,” Sevana responded, taking a strangle hold on her
patience.

“He’s also a famous womanizer!”

“I know.”

“You can’t trust him at all!”

“I know,” she snapped, patience evaporating. “Why do you
think I’m taking Sarsen with me? It’s not just because of Belen’s backward
cultural quirks. He can help me deal with that lecherous twit.”

Master’s eyebrows clearly expressed he did not like this
situation, not one bit. Sevana hardly felt thrilled about it either. But what
did he expect her to do, stay here while someone else went? It would be a
mission doomed to failure. She had to go. There was no other option. Standing
around arguing about it didn’t change that. In fact, the more she thought about
the situation, the more plausible it seemed to take
Bounce on Clouds
and
let Sarsen steer while she slept. Changing her plans on the spot, she ordered,
“Sarsen, we leave in ten minutes.”

“What about Sky?” Master asked pointedly.

Oh. Right. She had an eight year old to think of. Sevana was
so accustomed to just going when she wanted to go that she had a hard time
remembering that someone else needed her. She pondered the question for a full
second before turning to look at Decker.

He didn’t need her to ask the question aloud before he
raised a hand in surrender. “I’ll look after him while you’re gone. How long do
you think this will take?”

“If the gods have any mercy on me, not more than five or six
days.” Glad to have that situated, she turned back to Sarsen and repeated,
“We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

“I’m already packed,” he told her, laugh lines crinkling
around his eyes. “But you’re going to need to make a quick trip back to Big,
aren’t you? After all, you can’t wear pants in Belen.”

Aish
. Another little quirk of the culture she’d
momentarily forgotten. Growling out curses, she stomped off the porch, heading
for her clock portal.

It took two days to reach Harkin, Belen by her skimmer, and
Sevana shamelessly slept most of the distance. Sarsen woke her up at one point,
making her navigate for about eight hours so he could sleep, but other than
that, she rested as much as she could.

Where they were going, she’d need all the energy she could
get.

They reached the outskirts of Harkin at sunset, which made the
city rather pretty in bold strokes of oranges, golds, and dark browns. From the
air, it almost looked picturesque. Harkin was one of the largest cities of
Belen, second only to the capital, Windtower. Situated on the coast like this,
it spread out in every direction so that its entire eastern section curled
around the coastline. In some parts, even
over
the ocean as people
expanded using houseboats and the like. She’d been in many a city that had
grown faster than was wise, where the streets became a rat maze, but Harkin put
most of them to shame. Then again, most of the trade of Mander went through
Harkin at some point or another, legal or illegal, so it was no wonder the city
grew every year.

Sevana leaned over the side railing and looked down,
watching as the people scurried about in the streets, some of them taking
notice of the flying skimmer above their heads and pointing at it. Turning her
head slightly, she said casually to Sarsen, “You realize that we’ll have to
land on de Luca’s roof. Otherwise we’ll have waves of thieves try to steal the
skimmer.”

“Yes, I’m heading to his roof,” Sarsen assured her.
“Hopefully he’ll recognize it’s you before someone tries to attack us.”

Oh. Right. He wouldn’t know the skimmer. He’d never seen it
before. Sevana had made it three years ago and de Luca hadn’t seen her in well
over four, mayhap five years. Hmm. Resigned, she pulled the Caller out of her
back pouch and laid it on top of a flat palm, held at eye level. “de Luca.”

The Count of the Black Market did not have an ounce of
magical ability in him, but a man of his position and power could well afford a
magical lackey. She knew that someone near him would have a Caller that would
respond. It took a few moments before the Caller perked up, although it
remained faceless because the speaker did not have a magical connection to it.

“My dear Sevana! This is so rare, but delightful! You never
contact me.”

That was his smooth, cultured baritone though. He always
sounded as if he were attempting to seduce her when he spoke. “This is more
rare than you think. I’m coming toward your house.”

A thud sounded, as if he had just dropped out of his chair.
But then, the last time he had contacted her, she’d threatened to turn him into
a mouse and give him to Baby to play with. He’d never in his wildest
imaginations think she would come to him after that.  
“You’re HERE?
” he
demanded incredulously, with all the excitement of a child with five birthdays’
worth of presents in front of him.

“Almost,” she responded. Right then and there, she promised
herself that if she could get through this visit without killing the man or
losing her temper, she’d indulge in a secret vice to her heart’s content when
she got back home. Bribing herself might be the only way to insure that they
would all survive this surprise visit intact. “I’m coming to you via my flying
skimmer. I need to land on your roof, so I’d take it as a kindness if you
didn’t have any of your magicians try to shoot me out of the sky.”

“Of course, of course,”
he assured her hastily.
“You!
Pass the word that she’s coming and to bring her to me with all due courtesy.
Sevana, my love, I am thrilled beyond words at your visit. Dare I hope that you
have finally decided to accept my proposal?”

“The day that I decide to be one of your lovers, de Luca, is
the day that I have lost all sanity,” she informed him dryly. “No, I’m here for
your help.”

He audibly switched from potential lover to business man.
“In
what respect?”

It felt like chewing on moldy lemons saying this, but it had
to be said. “Something was stolen from me, something very important, and I need
your help to get it back. I am not sure, however, if you can even help me.”

“My love, for you, I will move mountains.”

She was banking on that, too. Sevana kept an eye out and saw
that Sarsen had found the right roofline and was mere minutes from reaching it.
“I hope that in this case, it’ll be enough. I will explain the particulars when
I see you. For now, we’re a bare minute from reaching your house.” Although
‘house’ seemed such a wrong word to use. The man had a compound with a manor
house in the middle, one which would put most palaces to shame, surrounded on
all sides by normal sized homes meant to house his staff, guards, and guests.
She’d always assumed that one of the red brick homes kept all of his mistresses
as well, but she had never had that confirmed. Actually, she didn’t care to
confirm it.

“Land in the center courtyard,”
he directed.
“I
shall come out to greet you.”

She caught Sarsen’s eye and he nodded confirmation that he’d
heard the direction. “We shall.”

“You keep saying ‘we,’ my dear. Who is with you?”

“Sarsen.”

He let out a long sigh.
“Surely you know that there’s no
need for a chaperone or another man between us?”

“There’s a need,” she said firmly, shaking her head in reluctant
amusement. The man just couldn’t give up the idea that she might one day be
his, could he. “Come out. We’re almost there.” So saying, she put the Caller
back in her pouch.

Sarsen had a wry smile on his face as he carefully
maneuvered the skimmer through the rooftops, avoiding crashing into any houses.
“You have to give him this—he’s devoted.”

“Ha!” Sevana didn’t believe this for a second. “He’s only interested
because I’m the only woman he’s never been able to catch.”

“Well, and there’s that,” Sarsen admitted.

Speaking of…. Sevana gave herself a good look from shoulders
to toes. She’d brought her plainest dresses and skirts, not wanting to attract
any male attention, but would this plan work? She wore an ink blue suede skirt,
her normal white shirt and a dark gold vest. It was nice enough to keep her
reputation as a respectable business-woman intact, but should hopefully be
plain enough to not fire up any man’s ardor. Her blonde hair had been tightly
braided and wrapped around her head, also severely curtailed.

“You look fine,” Sarsen assured her without any prompting.

“I’m not worried about looking fine, I want to look
plain
,”
she objected. “I don’t want to encourage his attentions any.”

Sarsen gave her quite the sardonic look for that. “Sevana,
you could be dressed in a meal sack and it wouldn’t deter him any.”

Her shoulders slumped. Sarsen might very well be right on
that.

The skimmer touched down in the courtyard with a slight
thump and scrape as the wood settled against the stone tiles. She unlatched the
side gate and stepped out, lifting one part of her skirt up a little to avoid
tripping herself as she got down. Hmm, well, the place hadn’t changed much
since she’d last seen it. Belen’s idea of fashionable architecture revolved
around stone gargoyles, dramatic buttresses, sweeping rooflines, and an overall
gloomy theme that made a house seemed haunted. The count, having no sense of
taste whatsoever, simply went along with the current fashion, so his home
looked perfectly suited to entertain a vampire or three. She shuddered just
looking at it, half-disgusted and half-cold at the obvious signs of wealth.

Sarsen alighted to the ground with a soft grunt before
coming to stand at her side.

Count Romano Rizzo Conti de Luca came out of the main doors
of the mansion like a king greeting a foreign dignitary. Aside from the fact
that he wore his curly hair short, so that it no longer touched his shoulders,
he hadn’t changed. He stood barely taller than she did, body slim except where
the multiple layers of shirt, vest, and brocaded black jacket made him look
bulkier. Really, he had a handsome face and a blindingly white smile that would
make any woman turn her head. It was his rotten personality that ruined the
whole package.

With arms spread wide in welcome, he came straight to her.
“Sevana, my love! I am overjoyed to see you again!”

He really did look pleased to see her. If his smile got any
wider, it would split his face in two. Seeing that expression, Sevana had a
sudden bout of misgivings. From the side of her mouth, she muttered, “Can I
change my mind?”

“No,” Sarsen murmured back.

“Please? That expression scares me.”

“I don’t blame you.” His tone added,
I would be, too, in
your shoes.
“Just remember, you can turn him into a mouse if you need to.”

She held on tightly to that thought as the count swooped in
on her and grabbed her by the waist. He leaned in, obviously with every
intention of kissing her, but Sevana had expected this reaction. With lightning
quick reflexes, she released the wand from the holster on her arm, springing it
into her hand, and pressed it into his Adam’s apple. “Behave yourself,” she
warned him.

He froze, looking more than a little ridiculous in that
half-swooping posture, and eyed the wand in her hand with misgivings. “Surely
one little kiss wouldn’t hurt anything.”

“With you, it’s never ‘one little’ anything,” she refused
firmly.

Sarsen came to her rescue and pulled her free of his arms,
turning so that he half-stood between them. “de Luca,” he greeted mildly, the
smile on his face never touching his eyes.

“Vashti,” the count greeted sourly. “You always get between
us.”

“It’s a hobby of mine,” Sarsen agreed blandly.

Sighing, he turned back to Sevana, eyes lingering on her.
“You look positively radiant, my dear.”

“And you haven’t changed at all,” she responded wryly.
Funny, she didn’t truly dislike the man, despite all his vices. He knew how to
be charming. Most of the time, she just found his advances annoying. “de Luca,
I don’t have a lot of time to explain everything.”

“Romano, please,” he requested with a particularly charming
smile.

She rolled her eyes. Patience. She’d promised herself she’d
exercise patience. “Romano. This is very time-sensitive, so I’m not in the mood
to explain everything over a glass of wine and a seven-course meal, alright?”

His dark eyes sharpened, once again switching from lover to
business man. But then, he successfully ran one of the largest black markets in
this area of the country without once being caught or fined by the Belen
government, which took not only serious money but intelligence to pull off. He
wouldn’t lose his head entirely because of a woman, not even her. “Yes, you
mentioned this before. How serious?”

“What was stolen from me can be highly dangerous in the
wrong hands. I need it back before it disappears into some private collector’s
vault.”

He offered her an elbow like a gentleman. “Then explain
everything to me on the way to my office. We’ll coordinate a search of the
market from there.”

Oh, how she wanted to ignore that offered elbow. But Belen
customs restricted her from doing so and she’d hardly be stepping off on the
right foot with the man if she started showing him discourtesy a bare minute
after landing. With a long sigh, she put her hand through his elbow and allowed
him to escort her in.

De Luca and his ever-present butler took off back inside the
mansion, she and Sarsen keeping in step with them. As they crossed the courtyard,
she caught sight of several dozen people all taking peeks at them. A few faces
she recognized from her last visit here.

Shaking their stares off, she turned to de Luca and said,
“The item was stolen three days ago. I believe the man who stole it is a
magician of high caliber.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “You believe?”

“I never saw him,” she admitted sourly. “I chased after him,
of course, but through some very nasty tricks he managed to evade me. I
eventually hit a dead end in my pursuit which is why I came directly to you.”

He let out a soft whistle. “Well, now
that’s
impressive. This wouldn’t have anything to do with the artifact you were taking
out of a certain small Windamere village, would it?”

As expected of a black market lord, his information network
was not to be discounted. “Yes, that’s exactly what he stole. I’m not sure if
he’s taken it out of the box it was sealed in. We found no trace of the box
where the trail dead ended, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“Indeed, that is true.”

Sevana was momentarily distracted as they crossed into the
black and white tiled foyer. The walls were painted by masters in some of the
darker fairytales, ceilings arching high overhead with a wrought black iron
chandelier sparkling overhead. The foyer itself was so spacious that their
footsteps rang like they walked through a tomb, the air cool against her skin.
Sevana couldn’t begin to comprehend how anyone could actually
live
in
this mausoleum.