Security for Hire, page 20
“I made one for a friend recently, actually.” Val pulled out her phone. “Can I show you?”
“Yes!” the humans chorused.
They leaned close as Val pulled up a picture of the moonstone necklace, and Jess’ eyes widened.
“Seriously, do you sell it on Etsy or something?” she asked.
“I sold a lot of stuff in my father’s smithy, but I’ve never sold jewelry,” Val admitted.
“Are you out of your mind?” Jess demanded. “You could make a fortune. It would be a great side gig. I used to design websites in my spare time until work got hectic.”
“You’re the one who signed up to be a veterinary nurse.” Isabella wrinkled her nose. “Those hours are ridiculous.”
“You say that every time I mention my job,” Jess grumbled.
“What do you do, Isabella?” Val asked.
Isabella tossed her hair. “Isn’t it obvious, darling?” She waved her hands, showing off sharp pink nails covered in tiny white polka dots. “I’m a manicurist.”
“Bullshit,” Jess coughed into her drink.
Val grimaced and held up her callused fingers. “That’s a good thing since you wouldn’t approve of these.”
“I’ll judge your broken nails whether or not I do nails professionally, thank you,” Isabella teased. “I’m actually climbing the corporate ladder.”
“Isabella studied business at Harvard,” Jess chipped in proudly.
Isabella groaned. “Don’t hold that against me.”
Val made a mental note to Google this Harvard place when she got home.
“What about you, Val?” Jess asked. “What do you do for a living?”
“Me? I, uh.” Val hesitated. “I’m a bodyguard.”
Isabella snorted cider. “You’re a what?”
“A bodyguard?” Val hazarded. Was that a thing for humans? It had to be. They certainly killed each other enough on Castle for it to be possible. “I look after people who—”
Jess laughed. “I know what a bodyguard is, Val.”
Val stopped. “Sorry.”
“Dude, you’re a bodyguard?” Isabella demanded.
“Why are you so surprised?” Jess leaned over and gave Val’s arm a squeeze. “These biceps are…shit, what are they made of, steel?”
“In a way,” Val conceded.
“That’s so cool. No wonder she kicked those guys’ asses.” Isabella laughed. “Wait till Liam hears about this.”
“Where is Liam, anyway?” Jess wondered.
Val turned toward the bar, and instantly, her belly tightened. Liam was bent over three tiny glasses on the bar, trying to pick them all up at once. Behind him, a bulky, sweating guy in a suit two sizes too small made impatient noises.
Already feeling his whiskey a little, Liam almost dropped one glass, then set them all down again.
“Is this going to take long, kid?” the guy snapped.
Liam glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, hey. Sorry.” He shuffled to the side.
The bartender stepped forward. “What can I get you, sir?”
It was too late. Belligerently drunk, the sweaty guy had set his sights on picking a fight with Liam.
“What’s the matter with you?” he growled. “Are you stupid or something?”
Liam didn’t react. He scooped up the three glasses and turned to go, but the sweaty guy stepped into his path.
“I asked you a question, dumbass,” the guy snarled.
Liam shook his head. “Man, I’m not looking for trouble.”
“No, but the other guy is,” Val muttered. “I’ll be right back.”
She slid down from her chair and strode over to the bar.
“Where do you think you are?” Liam hissed. “This is 230 Fifth, not some downtown club.” He tried to dodge around the guy, who stepped in front of him, arms folded.
“Sir? Sir, let me get you something to drink,” the bartender suggested.
Val stepped up behind the guy. “I think he’s had enough to drink, actually.”
The guy spun around. His face twisted in aggression, then smoothed into a sneer. “Who are you, this idiot’s babysitter?”
“I’m a friend,” Val told him smoothly. “Come on, Liam.”
Liam edged nearer.
The guy blocked him. “I’m talking to your friend. Piss off.”
“I’m not going to do that.” Val raised her chin. “Sir.”
“Listen here, bitch!” The man stepped forward and jabbed a finger against Val’s chest.
She gripped his digit in her finger and thumb and pressed backward. The high color from alcohol and bravado left the guy’s face, and his mouth snapped shut as tiny tendons creaked in his finger.
“I don’t appreciate the way you talked to my friend,” Val told him calmly, the scarlet fog far away.
“Sorry.” The guy groaned, sweating harder.
Val released his finger, and the guy shuffled out of the way.
“Let’s go, Liam,” Val repeated.
He scurried after her as she stalked away from the bar, leaving the now-sedate sweaty guy to order his drinks.
“I didn’t need rescuing, you know,” Liam muttered.
“I know,” Val assured him comfortably. “But I wasn’t about to stand by and watch someone name-call like that. What would that make me?”
Liam inclined his head, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I get that.”
When they reached their table, Isabella and Jess huddled together, watching something on Jess’s phone. The sound was turned up, and dramatic music rose tinnily from the phone’s speaker. A stylized clash of swords joined the music.
“What are you guys looking at?” Liam asked.
“It’s out, Lee!” Jess turned the phone around. “The trailer’s out. It’s coming in the spring!”
Liam’s eyes widened. “The new Nadia Stewart movie?”
“Who?” Val asked, peering at the slender ebony-skinned woman on the screen.
The three humans stared at her like she’d asked who Queen Julia Pendragon was.
“Nadia Stewart,” Jess told her slowly. “Winner of, like, six Oscars last year? Fabulously hot?”
“And super rich,” Isabella added.
“She starred in Phantom Warrior, Call of the Darksword, and the entire Dragonwind series!” Liam plunked down the shots. “Come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen any of the above.”
Val fumbled for a plausible lie. “I didn’t watch a ton of TV in Scotland.”
“Oh, yeah.” Liam nodded. “Scotland.”
The other girls nodded sagely. Wherever Scotland was, it was clearly the uttermost reaches of Earth.
“Tell me about this movie.” Val slid into her seat. “Maybe I should watch it.”
“Girl, you have to,” Jess gushed. “We’ll go and see it together and make a day of it when it comes out.”
“She’s starring as an epic warrior princess bitch,” Isabella told her.
“What she means to say is that she plays Ga’ar Rhosadan Bloodblade, Heir to the Throne of Smoke and Dragonkisser,” Jess gushed.
This time, Val joined the others in staring at her.
“I read the book, okay? It was brilliant. They’d better not screw this up.” Jess grinned. “With Nadia Stewart starring, it’ll be great.”
“Don’t talk about books, geek,” Isabella teased.
Jess rolled her eyes.
“I wish she’d do an actioner or a rom-com again.” Isabella sighed. “Since she played in Phantom Warrior, she’s only done fantasy.”
“What’s wrong with fantasy?” Liam demanded.
“Nothing. It’s just a bit far-fetched, you know?” Isabella rolled her eyes. “Come on. All those elves and fairies and things.”
An elf walked past behind her, toting an extravagant cocktail.
“Yeah.” Val shrugged. “Crazy, right?”
“Don’t listen to her, Val.” Jess shook her head sharply. “I mean, have you at least seen Lord of the Rings?”
Val shook her head mutely.
“Or read the books?” Jess asked desperately.
Val grimaced. “No.”
Jess moaned and dramatically fell against Isabella’s shoulder. “Isabellaaaaaa,” she cried, clutching her chest. “She doesn’t know about Lord of the Rings!”
Isabella patted the top of Jess’s head. “Tragic.”
“You don’t understand.” Jess straightened. “Okay, Val. You have to see the movies, even if you’re not into reading.”
“I read sometimes,” Val told her.
“Lord of the Rings isn’t a ‘sometimes’ kind of series,” Liam interjected.
“Shut up, Liam.” Jess gestured sharply.
“Excuse me?” Liam laughed.
“Look, your cosplay of Gimli was crap, okay? No telling newbies about Lord of the Rings until you fix your cosplay game. Capisce?” Jess demanded.
Liam raised his hands in surrender. “My lips are sealed.”
Jess turned to Val, her eyes glittering behind her glasses. “All right. You have to get the movies. There are extended versions, and listen…are you listening?”
Val nodded.
“You have to watch the extended versions. Do you hear me?” Jess grabbed Val’s hands. “The normal versions don’t have Galadriel giving Gimli three of her hairs. Or Treebeard’s song.” She gave Val a shake. “They don’t even have Gandalf fighting the Witch-King at Minas Tirith!”
“Okay,” Val agreed, intimidated. “The extended versions. Got it.”
“You watch them, and after that, you text me. Understand?” Jess demanded.
“Dude, you’re scaring her.” Isabella poked her in the shoulder. “Lay off.”
“Your life will never be the same,” Jess whispered hoarsely.
Isabella laughed. “Jess, relax.”
Jess released Val, to the dwarf’s relief, and sagged into her chair. “Text me,” she repeated.
At one o’clock the next morning, sitting bolt upright in bed and staring at her laptop with tears stinging her eyes, Val texted Jess.
Boromir dies??????
She did not own tissues, but she ripped another few squares off the roll of toilet paper on her nightstand and noisily blew her nose.
Her phone binged.
I know!!!
That was followed by multiple crying emojis.
A tantalizing window had popped up in the bottom right corner of her screen, informing Val that there was a second movie.
Got to work tomorrow, but when I get home, I’m watching the second one.
You’re in for a treat. Sweet dreams.
Val snapped the laptop shut and slid it onto her nightstand, then rolled herself in her duvet and gazed at the ceiling. She listened to the patter of rain on the roof and thought about war and madness. About the proud pillar of a human standing over two hobbits, swinging a blade in wild arcs, protecting them to the end.
There was no such thing as hobbits, and she didn’t like a human’s odds against an orc, but she still saw the fury in Boromir’s eyes as she sank into her pillow and drifted to sleep.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The blaring honk embarrassingly followed Val to Anne’s door. She grimaced in apology as the vampire opened it in response to her knock.
“I’m sorry about the honking.” Val rubbed the back of her neck. “Genevieve’s upset that we didn’t take her along yesterday.”
“Genevieve will be pleased to know that we need her today, then.” Anne stepped out of the apartment.
“I thought we were using—” Val glanced around for humans and spotted a mom stepping out of the elevator with two kids. “The other mode of transportation.”
“We are, but this time, we don’t have to climb almost fifteen hundred steps.” Anne laughed. “Come on. It won’t be her first time going through one of these.” She gestured at the portal-maker pinned to her jacket.
Genevieve’s honking got louder as they took the elevator to the ground floor and stepped into the lobby. The receptionist was on the phone, red-cheeked. She pulled it away and covered the mouthpiece with one hand as she glared at Val.
“Is that your car?” she hissed.
Val was glad to see that her annoyance had conquered her fear. “Sorry,” she whispered.
They jogged across the empty lobby, and Val stepped out the front door with her arms extended. “Gennie! Gennie, cut it out!”
The noise instantly switched off. Genevieve was in the parking space just outside the doors, and she revved her engine angrily.
Anne patted the car’s roof. “Good morning, Genevieve.”
Genevieve’s roar changed to a gentle purr. She opened her driver’s door, rapping Val sharply in the shins.
“Dude. Cut it out,” Val hissed. “I’m going to need your help keeping Anne safe today.”
Genevieve’s engine quieted. As Anne slid into her passenger seat, the seatbelt buckled itself and pulled tight, as snug as an embrace. The door slammed shut and locked itself.
“Thanks, Gennie.” Anne stroked the dash.
“Where to?” Val asked.
“There’s an alley a couple of blocks from here where it’s pretty quiet. We’ll activate the portal there.” Anne arranged her veil around her head. “It’s apparently sunny in France today.”
“France?” Val asked. “Where’s that?”
“The Eiffel Tower?” Anne tried. “The Louvre?”
Val shook her head.
“Brocèliande?” Anne searched the dwarf’s face.
“Oh, yeah! Isn’t that where Nimue came from originally? I read that on the Internet after Queen Julia defeated her.” Val gripped the wheel, pretending to steer as Genevieve rolled out of the parking lot.
“That’s right.” Anne smiled. “Don’t worry. We’re steering clear of the forest today.”
Genevieve purred down the road, her speedometer showing the speed Val noted on roadside signs. Traffic was quieter today, and Genevieve politely slowed as a minivan merged with her lane.
Val glanced in the rearview mirror as a black SUV rolled to a halt behind them at a red light. Its tinted windows didn’t allow her to see the occupants’ faces, and she released the wheel, gripping her dagger instead. The SUV’s left indicator was on.
“What’s wrong?” Anne asked.
Eyes on the mirror, Val tried a smile. “Nothing yet.”
The light changed, and Genevieve turned down a side street. The SUV followed them.
“They indicated, but Genevieve didn’t.” Anne’s tone held a note of reproach. “I don’t think they’re following us.”
Val gripped her dagger tightly. “I’m not so sure. Don’t use your blinker, Gennie.”
Gennie’s dials flipped in agreement.
“The next left,” Anne instructed.
Genevieve waited until the last second. Then her wheel jerked, and she squealed around the turn into a quiet alley that ended in a chain-link fence. For a heart-pounding moment, Val waited. The SUV sedately rolled past without slowing down.
“Okay.” Val’s gut relaxed. “I think we’re clear.”
“Good.” Anne touched the portal-maker, and the round portal popped into existence a few yards ahead of them, offering a glimpse of a tree-lined asphalt road.
Genevieve’s engine roared in excitement.
“Easy, Gennie!” Val yelped.
Genevieve was anything but easy. She plunged forward with a squeal of rubber. Val’s stomach bucked at the speed at which the Mustang plowed through the portal, and she had to squeeze her eyes tightly shut against the dizziness that gripped her for a few nerve-tingling seconds.
When her vision cleared, her first glance was at the rearview mirror. There was no sign of the portal as Genevieve swung onto a four-lane road. A sea of cars rolled behind them. She scanned for a black SUV and spotted several scattered through the traffic behind them. Her stomach relaxed slightly.
“The palace wards extend for a couple of miles, but we’re nearly there,” Anne announced.
Golden foliage clung to the leaves of the elegant trees that lined the road, and balmy fall sunshine poured over the landscape. The buildings on either side of the road were old, with slate-gray roofs and white stone walls, their windows uniform as they rose two or three stories.
“Welcome to Versailles.” Anne grinned.
The name meant nothing to Val, but she gazed at the architecture as Genevieve purred along. Heads turned to gaze at the powerful Mustang. Val gazed back, intrigued. She wondered if these humans knew how many paranormals were among them. Amid the people on the sidewalks and in the cars they swished past, she spotted more fae, elves, and vampires than humans.
“What’s with all the paras?” Val asked.
“They’re very concentrated in older European cities,” Anne explained. “Many of our most populous species originated here.”
Genevieve purred into a parking space where the road’s smooth asphalt became cobblestones. When the Mustang had perfectly parallel parked herself, Val stepped out and swept the crowded square with a glance. Dozens of human tourists flocked around a statue in the middle of the square, depicting yet another old dude on a horse, although this horse looked fairly cheerful. A few vampires moved among them, brisk and hurried. Each bore a small crest on gold chains around their necks.
“Servants of King Antoine,” Anne told her, following her gaze. “They’re friendlies.”
“We think,” Val countered.
Anne hesitated. “Good point.”
She stuck close to Val as they followed a cobbled path toward an apartment building. The unimaginative symmetrical block of white stone had the same gray slate roofs as the other buildings nearby, but it was significantly larger than the Selby. Elderly but well-maintained, it had more windows and chimneys than Val could count, all identical.
“Which apartment?” Val asked.
Anne glanced at her. “Which apartment?”
“Yeah. It’s a big block of flats, isn’t it?”
Anne put a hand over her mouth, but she couldn’t hide the amusement in her eyes. “Val, that is the Palace of Versailles.”
Val stared at it. It was grandiose, but it paled a little in comparison to 14 Wall Street. As for the Eternal Palace, there was no comparison.
“Oh,” she managed.
“Yes!” the humans chorused.
They leaned close as Val pulled up a picture of the moonstone necklace, and Jess’ eyes widened.
“Seriously, do you sell it on Etsy or something?” she asked.
“I sold a lot of stuff in my father’s smithy, but I’ve never sold jewelry,” Val admitted.
“Are you out of your mind?” Jess demanded. “You could make a fortune. It would be a great side gig. I used to design websites in my spare time until work got hectic.”
“You’re the one who signed up to be a veterinary nurse.” Isabella wrinkled her nose. “Those hours are ridiculous.”
“You say that every time I mention my job,” Jess grumbled.
“What do you do, Isabella?” Val asked.
Isabella tossed her hair. “Isn’t it obvious, darling?” She waved her hands, showing off sharp pink nails covered in tiny white polka dots. “I’m a manicurist.”
“Bullshit,” Jess coughed into her drink.
Val grimaced and held up her callused fingers. “That’s a good thing since you wouldn’t approve of these.”
“I’ll judge your broken nails whether or not I do nails professionally, thank you,” Isabella teased. “I’m actually climbing the corporate ladder.”
“Isabella studied business at Harvard,” Jess chipped in proudly.
Isabella groaned. “Don’t hold that against me.”
Val made a mental note to Google this Harvard place when she got home.
“What about you, Val?” Jess asked. “What do you do for a living?”
“Me? I, uh.” Val hesitated. “I’m a bodyguard.”
Isabella snorted cider. “You’re a what?”
“A bodyguard?” Val hazarded. Was that a thing for humans? It had to be. They certainly killed each other enough on Castle for it to be possible. “I look after people who—”
Jess laughed. “I know what a bodyguard is, Val.”
Val stopped. “Sorry.”
“Dude, you’re a bodyguard?” Isabella demanded.
“Why are you so surprised?” Jess leaned over and gave Val’s arm a squeeze. “These biceps are…shit, what are they made of, steel?”
“In a way,” Val conceded.
“That’s so cool. No wonder she kicked those guys’ asses.” Isabella laughed. “Wait till Liam hears about this.”
“Where is Liam, anyway?” Jess wondered.
Val turned toward the bar, and instantly, her belly tightened. Liam was bent over three tiny glasses on the bar, trying to pick them all up at once. Behind him, a bulky, sweating guy in a suit two sizes too small made impatient noises.
Already feeling his whiskey a little, Liam almost dropped one glass, then set them all down again.
“Is this going to take long, kid?” the guy snapped.
Liam glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, hey. Sorry.” He shuffled to the side.
The bartender stepped forward. “What can I get you, sir?”
It was too late. Belligerently drunk, the sweaty guy had set his sights on picking a fight with Liam.
“What’s the matter with you?” he growled. “Are you stupid or something?”
Liam didn’t react. He scooped up the three glasses and turned to go, but the sweaty guy stepped into his path.
“I asked you a question, dumbass,” the guy snarled.
Liam shook his head. “Man, I’m not looking for trouble.”
“No, but the other guy is,” Val muttered. “I’ll be right back.”
She slid down from her chair and strode over to the bar.
“Where do you think you are?” Liam hissed. “This is 230 Fifth, not some downtown club.” He tried to dodge around the guy, who stepped in front of him, arms folded.
“Sir? Sir, let me get you something to drink,” the bartender suggested.
Val stepped up behind the guy. “I think he’s had enough to drink, actually.”
The guy spun around. His face twisted in aggression, then smoothed into a sneer. “Who are you, this idiot’s babysitter?”
“I’m a friend,” Val told him smoothly. “Come on, Liam.”
Liam edged nearer.
The guy blocked him. “I’m talking to your friend. Piss off.”
“I’m not going to do that.” Val raised her chin. “Sir.”
“Listen here, bitch!” The man stepped forward and jabbed a finger against Val’s chest.
She gripped his digit in her finger and thumb and pressed backward. The high color from alcohol and bravado left the guy’s face, and his mouth snapped shut as tiny tendons creaked in his finger.
“I don’t appreciate the way you talked to my friend,” Val told him calmly, the scarlet fog far away.
“Sorry.” The guy groaned, sweating harder.
Val released his finger, and the guy shuffled out of the way.
“Let’s go, Liam,” Val repeated.
He scurried after her as she stalked away from the bar, leaving the now-sedate sweaty guy to order his drinks.
“I didn’t need rescuing, you know,” Liam muttered.
“I know,” Val assured him comfortably. “But I wasn’t about to stand by and watch someone name-call like that. What would that make me?”
Liam inclined his head, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I get that.”
When they reached their table, Isabella and Jess huddled together, watching something on Jess’s phone. The sound was turned up, and dramatic music rose tinnily from the phone’s speaker. A stylized clash of swords joined the music.
“What are you guys looking at?” Liam asked.
“It’s out, Lee!” Jess turned the phone around. “The trailer’s out. It’s coming in the spring!”
Liam’s eyes widened. “The new Nadia Stewart movie?”
“Who?” Val asked, peering at the slender ebony-skinned woman on the screen.
The three humans stared at her like she’d asked who Queen Julia Pendragon was.
“Nadia Stewart,” Jess told her slowly. “Winner of, like, six Oscars last year? Fabulously hot?”
“And super rich,” Isabella added.
“She starred in Phantom Warrior, Call of the Darksword, and the entire Dragonwind series!” Liam plunked down the shots. “Come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen any of the above.”
Val fumbled for a plausible lie. “I didn’t watch a ton of TV in Scotland.”
“Oh, yeah.” Liam nodded. “Scotland.”
The other girls nodded sagely. Wherever Scotland was, it was clearly the uttermost reaches of Earth.
“Tell me about this movie.” Val slid into her seat. “Maybe I should watch it.”
“Girl, you have to,” Jess gushed. “We’ll go and see it together and make a day of it when it comes out.”
“She’s starring as an epic warrior princess bitch,” Isabella told her.
“What she means to say is that she plays Ga’ar Rhosadan Bloodblade, Heir to the Throne of Smoke and Dragonkisser,” Jess gushed.
This time, Val joined the others in staring at her.
“I read the book, okay? It was brilliant. They’d better not screw this up.” Jess grinned. “With Nadia Stewart starring, it’ll be great.”
“Don’t talk about books, geek,” Isabella teased.
Jess rolled her eyes.
“I wish she’d do an actioner or a rom-com again.” Isabella sighed. “Since she played in Phantom Warrior, she’s only done fantasy.”
“What’s wrong with fantasy?” Liam demanded.
“Nothing. It’s just a bit far-fetched, you know?” Isabella rolled her eyes. “Come on. All those elves and fairies and things.”
An elf walked past behind her, toting an extravagant cocktail.
“Yeah.” Val shrugged. “Crazy, right?”
“Don’t listen to her, Val.” Jess shook her head sharply. “I mean, have you at least seen Lord of the Rings?”
Val shook her head mutely.
“Or read the books?” Jess asked desperately.
Val grimaced. “No.”
Jess moaned and dramatically fell against Isabella’s shoulder. “Isabellaaaaaa,” she cried, clutching her chest. “She doesn’t know about Lord of the Rings!”
Isabella patted the top of Jess’s head. “Tragic.”
“You don’t understand.” Jess straightened. “Okay, Val. You have to see the movies, even if you’re not into reading.”
“I read sometimes,” Val told her.
“Lord of the Rings isn’t a ‘sometimes’ kind of series,” Liam interjected.
“Shut up, Liam.” Jess gestured sharply.
“Excuse me?” Liam laughed.
“Look, your cosplay of Gimli was crap, okay? No telling newbies about Lord of the Rings until you fix your cosplay game. Capisce?” Jess demanded.
Liam raised his hands in surrender. “My lips are sealed.”
Jess turned to Val, her eyes glittering behind her glasses. “All right. You have to get the movies. There are extended versions, and listen…are you listening?”
Val nodded.
“You have to watch the extended versions. Do you hear me?” Jess grabbed Val’s hands. “The normal versions don’t have Galadriel giving Gimli three of her hairs. Or Treebeard’s song.” She gave Val a shake. “They don’t even have Gandalf fighting the Witch-King at Minas Tirith!”
“Okay,” Val agreed, intimidated. “The extended versions. Got it.”
“You watch them, and after that, you text me. Understand?” Jess demanded.
“Dude, you’re scaring her.” Isabella poked her in the shoulder. “Lay off.”
“Your life will never be the same,” Jess whispered hoarsely.
Isabella laughed. “Jess, relax.”
Jess released Val, to the dwarf’s relief, and sagged into her chair. “Text me,” she repeated.
At one o’clock the next morning, sitting bolt upright in bed and staring at her laptop with tears stinging her eyes, Val texted Jess.
Boromir dies??????
She did not own tissues, but she ripped another few squares off the roll of toilet paper on her nightstand and noisily blew her nose.
Her phone binged.
I know!!!
That was followed by multiple crying emojis.
A tantalizing window had popped up in the bottom right corner of her screen, informing Val that there was a second movie.
Got to work tomorrow, but when I get home, I’m watching the second one.
You’re in for a treat. Sweet dreams.
Val snapped the laptop shut and slid it onto her nightstand, then rolled herself in her duvet and gazed at the ceiling. She listened to the patter of rain on the roof and thought about war and madness. About the proud pillar of a human standing over two hobbits, swinging a blade in wild arcs, protecting them to the end.
There was no such thing as hobbits, and she didn’t like a human’s odds against an orc, but she still saw the fury in Boromir’s eyes as she sank into her pillow and drifted to sleep.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The blaring honk embarrassingly followed Val to Anne’s door. She grimaced in apology as the vampire opened it in response to her knock.
“I’m sorry about the honking.” Val rubbed the back of her neck. “Genevieve’s upset that we didn’t take her along yesterday.”
“Genevieve will be pleased to know that we need her today, then.” Anne stepped out of the apartment.
“I thought we were using—” Val glanced around for humans and spotted a mom stepping out of the elevator with two kids. “The other mode of transportation.”
“We are, but this time, we don’t have to climb almost fifteen hundred steps.” Anne laughed. “Come on. It won’t be her first time going through one of these.” She gestured at the portal-maker pinned to her jacket.
Genevieve’s honking got louder as they took the elevator to the ground floor and stepped into the lobby. The receptionist was on the phone, red-cheeked. She pulled it away and covered the mouthpiece with one hand as she glared at Val.
“Is that your car?” she hissed.
Val was glad to see that her annoyance had conquered her fear. “Sorry,” she whispered.
They jogged across the empty lobby, and Val stepped out the front door with her arms extended. “Gennie! Gennie, cut it out!”
The noise instantly switched off. Genevieve was in the parking space just outside the doors, and she revved her engine angrily.
Anne patted the car’s roof. “Good morning, Genevieve.”
Genevieve’s roar changed to a gentle purr. She opened her driver’s door, rapping Val sharply in the shins.
“Dude. Cut it out,” Val hissed. “I’m going to need your help keeping Anne safe today.”
Genevieve’s engine quieted. As Anne slid into her passenger seat, the seatbelt buckled itself and pulled tight, as snug as an embrace. The door slammed shut and locked itself.
“Thanks, Gennie.” Anne stroked the dash.
“Where to?” Val asked.
“There’s an alley a couple of blocks from here where it’s pretty quiet. We’ll activate the portal there.” Anne arranged her veil around her head. “It’s apparently sunny in France today.”
“France?” Val asked. “Where’s that?”
“The Eiffel Tower?” Anne tried. “The Louvre?”
Val shook her head.
“Brocèliande?” Anne searched the dwarf’s face.
“Oh, yeah! Isn’t that where Nimue came from originally? I read that on the Internet after Queen Julia defeated her.” Val gripped the wheel, pretending to steer as Genevieve rolled out of the parking lot.
“That’s right.” Anne smiled. “Don’t worry. We’re steering clear of the forest today.”
Genevieve purred down the road, her speedometer showing the speed Val noted on roadside signs. Traffic was quieter today, and Genevieve politely slowed as a minivan merged with her lane.
Val glanced in the rearview mirror as a black SUV rolled to a halt behind them at a red light. Its tinted windows didn’t allow her to see the occupants’ faces, and she released the wheel, gripping her dagger instead. The SUV’s left indicator was on.
“What’s wrong?” Anne asked.
Eyes on the mirror, Val tried a smile. “Nothing yet.”
The light changed, and Genevieve turned down a side street. The SUV followed them.
“They indicated, but Genevieve didn’t.” Anne’s tone held a note of reproach. “I don’t think they’re following us.”
Val gripped her dagger tightly. “I’m not so sure. Don’t use your blinker, Gennie.”
Gennie’s dials flipped in agreement.
“The next left,” Anne instructed.
Genevieve waited until the last second. Then her wheel jerked, and she squealed around the turn into a quiet alley that ended in a chain-link fence. For a heart-pounding moment, Val waited. The SUV sedately rolled past without slowing down.
“Okay.” Val’s gut relaxed. “I think we’re clear.”
“Good.” Anne touched the portal-maker, and the round portal popped into existence a few yards ahead of them, offering a glimpse of a tree-lined asphalt road.
Genevieve’s engine roared in excitement.
“Easy, Gennie!” Val yelped.
Genevieve was anything but easy. She plunged forward with a squeal of rubber. Val’s stomach bucked at the speed at which the Mustang plowed through the portal, and she had to squeeze her eyes tightly shut against the dizziness that gripped her for a few nerve-tingling seconds.
When her vision cleared, her first glance was at the rearview mirror. There was no sign of the portal as Genevieve swung onto a four-lane road. A sea of cars rolled behind them. She scanned for a black SUV and spotted several scattered through the traffic behind them. Her stomach relaxed slightly.
“The palace wards extend for a couple of miles, but we’re nearly there,” Anne announced.
Golden foliage clung to the leaves of the elegant trees that lined the road, and balmy fall sunshine poured over the landscape. The buildings on either side of the road were old, with slate-gray roofs and white stone walls, their windows uniform as they rose two or three stories.
“Welcome to Versailles.” Anne grinned.
The name meant nothing to Val, but she gazed at the architecture as Genevieve purred along. Heads turned to gaze at the powerful Mustang. Val gazed back, intrigued. She wondered if these humans knew how many paranormals were among them. Amid the people on the sidewalks and in the cars they swished past, she spotted more fae, elves, and vampires than humans.
“What’s with all the paras?” Val asked.
“They’re very concentrated in older European cities,” Anne explained. “Many of our most populous species originated here.”
Genevieve purred into a parking space where the road’s smooth asphalt became cobblestones. When the Mustang had perfectly parallel parked herself, Val stepped out and swept the crowded square with a glance. Dozens of human tourists flocked around a statue in the middle of the square, depicting yet another old dude on a horse, although this horse looked fairly cheerful. A few vampires moved among them, brisk and hurried. Each bore a small crest on gold chains around their necks.
“Servants of King Antoine,” Anne told her, following her gaze. “They’re friendlies.”
“We think,” Val countered.
Anne hesitated. “Good point.”
She stuck close to Val as they followed a cobbled path toward an apartment building. The unimaginative symmetrical block of white stone had the same gray slate roofs as the other buildings nearby, but it was significantly larger than the Selby. Elderly but well-maintained, it had more windows and chimneys than Val could count, all identical.
“Which apartment?” Val asked.
Anne glanced at her. “Which apartment?”
“Yeah. It’s a big block of flats, isn’t it?”
Anne put a hand over her mouth, but she couldn’t hide the amusement in her eyes. “Val, that is the Palace of Versailles.”
Val stared at it. It was grandiose, but it paled a little in comparison to 14 Wall Street. As for the Eternal Palace, there was no comparison.
“Oh,” she managed.
