Chapter 27 #3
They did, Beatrix mouthing “it’s OK” to Ella as they stood in the dark at the side of the road, shivering in the chill air.
Ella did not look convinced. “OK?”
She was about to explain, but then she saw Blackwell’s Pierce-Arrow. He slowed abruptly as he passed by, giving her a glimpse of his shocked expression, and pulled over in front of the officer’s car.
His coat billowed impressively behind him as he stalked over.
“You there,” the officer snapped, “stay back from—”
Then he must have caught sight of Blackwell’s hair.
“Uh,” he said. “Um.”
“Has my assistant done something wrong, officer?” Blackwell said.
The man didn’t have an immediate answer. In as bland a tone as she could manage, Beatrix said, “I believe he thinks we’re prostitutes, Omnimancer.”
Ella choked. Blackwell gaped at her.
“Um,” the officer said again.
“For the record,” Beatrix said, “we’re not.”
“I’m a school teacher,” Ella snapped.
“No, that’s not …” The officer had a deer-in-headlights look. “I was just …”
“I have to assume that’s the issue, since you didn’t explain why you’d stopped us,” Beatrix said.
The officer opened his mouth and promptly closed it.
Blackwell looked as if he was about to explode. Beatrix cut in first. “Have you ascertained to your satisfaction that nothing is wrong here?”
“Yes! Yes.” The officer returned the ID cards with fumbling haste. “Everything seems to be in order.”
“Are we free to go?”
He backed away. “Yes. Yes, ma’am,” he tacked on before fleeing to his car.
Blackwell glared at the vehicle as it sped off. “That … that—”
Beatrix let out the laughter that had been building since she realized the man was not an FBI agent on the verge of arresting them for illegal magic use. Both Blackwell and Ella stared at her in carbon-copy bewilderment.
“Beatrix, it’s not funny,” said Ella, who usually saw the humor in everything.
“It is.” She gestured at her sedate, chin-to-ankle outfit. “How did he expect us to have any success at prostitution dressed like this?”
Ella’s lips twitched. “Maybe he thought he’d find a change of clothes in the trunk.”
Blackwell leaned against the car. “How did you know that was why the officer stopped you, if he never explained himself?”
She no longer felt the overpowering urge to laugh. “Because that’s the third time it’s happened to me.”
Ella’s “what?” sounded horrified. But Blackwell nodded, as if he’d suspected. One of the many unsettling things about him: He was beginning to know her better than her best friend.
“You’ve seen how officers target women drivers,” Beatrix said to Ella.
“Yes, but not for prostitution,” she said. “For going a mile over the speed limit or taking a bit too long to react to a green light.”
“If you’re driving at night, you run the risk that they’ll stop you and search for rubbers.”
Ella scowled. Blackwell pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. But once they were back in their respective cars, there was, at least, no awkward silence between her and Ella anymore.
“I can’t believe this,” Ella said, hitting the glove compartment with both hands. “I thought I knew every way in which we’re treated like second-class citizens, and I can’t believe this. How are you so calm?”
“Well,” Beatrix said, feeling the wild laughter bubbling up again, “this time I was actually relieved to be suspected of prostitution.”
That got a snort out of Ella. “While we’re looking on the bright side, I’m pretty sure that officer will think twice before stopping women under such a pretext again.”
It was so good to have her best friend back. To sit here with her, twisting the bad things that happened to them into a humorous shape.
But that made her think of the worst bad thing of all. There was no laughing at the danger her sister was now in.
“How are we to guard Lydia while she’s on campus?” she asked. “Meg would be logistically ideal, but …”
She didn’t say it. Ella did: “That would be a monumentally bad idea, yeah.”
“So that leaves Rosemarie, given our schedules.”
Ella sighed. “It’s too bad about Meg. She never struck me as the sort to fall apart like that.”
“You never know how someone will react in a moment of terrible stress.” Beatrix bit her lip, staring at Blackwell’s taillights a few car lengths ahead. “I never thought I’d do what I did to her.”
“It was very unlike you.” The mistrustful edge was back.
She swallowed, throat tight. “I was so afraid of what might happen to Lydia—to all of us—if Meg wasn’t under a Vow.”
“Was that the only reason?”
The words smarted. “Isn’t that reason enough? Look, I’m not trying to justify it. I’m ashamed of myself.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Ella said, tone softer. She put a hand on Beatrix’s arm. “I’m sorry. I won’t be so jumpy after I’ve seen the contracts.”
Beatrix took this at face value until it occurred to her that the two things could be directly related. “You think Omnimancer Blackwell made me do that? You think I’m a—a puppet he’s manipulating through my Vow to him?”
Ella didn’t answer, which was answer enough.
“I’m not.” Beatrix laughed weakly. “And OK, fine, that’s exactly what I’d say if I were. But you’ll see this Vow doesn’t allow for that sort of ickiness.”
The other one would have. The other one would have allowed for nearly anything. She shivered at the memory of what she’d so recently escaped.