Chapter 15 Prague #6
The lover in him—a newly awakened human, but one he found he liked better than the cold-eyed journalistic opportunist he could be—wanted so badly to guard Marco’s safety, to keep this ugliness, which he’d embraced enthusiastically, wanting to be the truthteller and the revealer of the forces the Salinger family fought, far away from this warm, sensual, amazing human being he loved.
But the cold-eyed journalist wasn’t oblivious to the opportunity.
Kadjic had swept out of the dining room without leaving a tip by the time Tor and Marco were finished, and Tor was just about to launch into a well-reasoned lecture as to why this was a very bad idea when they got the text that Josh’s results were in.
Gratitude swept Tor in no small measure.
The torch he may have held for Josh Salinger had long since cooled to warm friendship, but it was friendship, a good one, and he loved Felix like a brother.
His friend was going to be okay, and he knew the world was uncertain enough that health was no small thing.
So to have Felix guiding them to the Mozart—which was lovely in a Classical era, old-world way—to plan for the job had Tor doubting the wisdom of what Marco was obviously hoping to do.
At the same time he was raring to go full speed ahead.
His whole life had been about the truth changing the world for the better.
But he’d seen enough wrong in his time, enough evil, to know that the truth alone couldn’t do it.
The opportunity to bring down somebody like Kadjic, who had done so much wrong in the world, was irresistible.
Even if the whole thing went wrong and Tor ended up disappearing from the world young and unknown, he’d know that he’d worked to right a lot of wrongs.
And that was all very noble and self-sacrificing, but it didn’t apply to Marco, whose only ambition his entire life had been to cook for people and make them happy.
Except Marco loved the Salingers too.
Tor’s brain was whirling with it still as Felix guided them through the lobby—and God, in his entire life Tor hadn’t dreamed of a place that made him yearn for The Magic Flute to serenade him to sleep on tapestried furniture beneath fantastical chandeliers.
“My God,” Marco murmured. “This place….”
As they turned toward the elevators, they caught a glimpse of the great window overlooking the river, and both of them sighed softly.
“Come on,” Marco said, smiling. “If we’re going to die dramatic deaths, can you think of better scenery?”
“Shut. Up.” Tor shook his head, the elevator dinged, and most of them shoved themselves inside.
Those who had too much nervous energy—Carl, Chuck, Tienne, and Grace—took the stairs.
ONCE IN the suite, after the buffet arrived, the lot of them made themselves comfortable on couches, stuffed chairs, dining room chairs, and the floor.
Molly, Grace, Stirling, and Tienne, their prodigies, were the ones on the floor, sitting cross-legged and sharing their plates of food. While he hadn’t been a part of the group since middle school like the others, Tienne still managed to fit in, and Tor watched them enviously.
He remembered being in college, thinking he was invincible and everything was easy.
But these “children” had seen real consequences, and he reflected that perhaps their insouciance in this moment was part of their strength.
All four of them had proved they were capable of tough decisions, specialized skill sets, and impressive deeds.
Still, he was reassured by Marco’s solid body sitting on the dining room chair next to his so he could eat the capers and lox with delicate nibbles and a fork.
“Good?” Tor asked, like he always did when dealing with his lover’s specialty.
“Very much so,” Marco told him, closing his eyes. “The salmon is particularly fresh. It’s delicious.”
While they were eating, Julia, Leon, and Hunter walked in, and for once, instead of standing sentinel near the front door, as Chuck and Carl were doing instinctively while cradling their plates in their hands, Hunter went to sit next to Grace.
Tor watched as Grace rubbed up against Hunter like a love-starved kitten and then offered the muscle-bound enforcer his plate.
Hunter took it, but not before rubbing back against Grace, a solid animal show of reassurance that somehow touched Tor deeply.
Grace had always been an enigma to Tor, but he understood love now, and that was what he’d just seen.
As Julia and Leon settled down at the table, their plates before them, Felix, with a nod from Julia, stood.
“Okay, everybody. Hit the head and get seconds now. In fifteen minutes we’ve got to be at our best. Before we start this planning session, is there anything we should know?”
And before Tor could think of how to phrase it, Marco blurted, “Kadjic’s at the Michaelangelo, and I’ve got a job there as morning sous chef for the next week. Any suggestions?”
Felix gave a long, slow blink, and then another, and Danny burst out laughing.
“Holy shit, Fox, you should see your face.”
Tor glanced around the room and saw that everybody was as flabbergasted as Felix, and he felt mildly better about being so up in his head about the matter.
From the table, Leon, who apparently had become a full-fledged member of the family, muttered, “What are the fucking odds!”
“My thoughts exactly,” Felix muttered, as though released from a spell so he could talk. “Danny, are there any more of those pastries left? I feel like I’m due.”