Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
“You look stunning, Sue.” Bart squeezed my hand, the feel of his enormous palm on mine was reassuring, even if it was a bit sweaty.
I couldn’t judge; I was so damn nervous my heart kept stuttering. All the plans had been laid, the calls had been made, and the pieces were all in position.
There were so many balls up in the air, I hoped I could catch them all. Of course you can. You can do this. You’re a strong, capable woman.
I smiled. “You look great, too, Bart.” And despite his slightly haggard expression, he did look fabulous in his classic tuxedo.
I matched him well in my own shimmering deep black gown—draped silk that flowed off the shoulder and molded over my curves like a waterfall, giving me a sexy Jessica Rabbit silhouette.
The fabric was light and swished around my thighs, giving me room to move fast if I had to.
My stilettos clicked on the pavement. I mourned the loss of their brand-newness, but I wanted to get inside quickly.
The line of limos and sports cars in the street inched forward too slowly, so we’d gotten out at the corner and walked the short distance rather than waiting to be dropped off right at the gate.
At least the shoes weren’t too expensive—there was a good chance I was going to have to kick them off and run at some point. Although Cecil, padding happily next to me in Labrador-mode, could easily change them to Nikes for me.
“Mmm. You do look beautiful, Chosen,” Donovan murmured in my tiny earpiece.
“You do,” Cress chipped in. “Not as good as my lover, though,” she added hastily. “She is like the blazing sunset. You are more like… a peek of sunshine through a cloudy day.”
“Thanks, babe,” Bronwyn’s deep voice joined the channel. “And yes, Susan, you look lovely. Remember to breathe. We’re all here, we’re all in place, and we’re right behind you.”
I chuckled nervously. “Thanks, team.” I glanced up ahead. A stream of begowned and bedazzled party people—the creme de la creme of San Francisco society—walked both ahead and behind us up the sidewalk towards Juliette’s house.
House wasn’t the word for it. Mega-mansion was more appropriate.
Five stories, with two basement levels, the old Victorian manor on Pacific Avenue overlooking Billionaire’s Row had been given the Frankenstein treatment, bulked out, fortified, and painted a sinister-looking dark gray.
It loomed above us like a monster. I heard Juliette’s husband paid twenty-five million dollars for it, and another million in bribes to get around the city’s heritage laws so he could turn it into this behemoth in front of us.
I felt a twinge of pain in my chest as we walked.
My beautiful heritage house, Bayview Cottage, was only two blocks away from here.
I’d spent years—and an absolute fortune—restoring it, carefully and delicately enhancing its original beauty to the point where it appeared in architectural magazines all over the world.
It wasn’t mine anymore, though. It was the first thing that had been taken from me when my whole world came crashing down around me. Now, it was Vincent’s house, and Seraphina had probably redecorated it. Visions of tulle curtains and doilies haunted my dreams.
I hadn’t finished mourning the loss of my old house, and I probably never would. Where Juliette’s mansion was an ode to wealth and dominance, my cottage was a shining jewel of San Francisco’s art scene—a perfect amalgamation of history and style.
I glanced up as we got closer. To give Juliette credit, she had her landscaper soften the harsh look of her mega-mansion with a lot of greenery—shrub-packed courtyards, fern walls, and lush exotic plants in an enormous decorative greenhouse that faced the Broadway entrance.
Soft golden antique bulbs lit up the mansion.
Every window showed fleeting glimpses of silhouettes, people air-kissing and tossing their hair.
We were only slightly early, and the party was already in full swing.
“We’re approaching the mansion now. Is everyone in position?”
“We are,” Donovan said. “Eryk and I have finished laying the perimeter wards. We will know the second Connor’s assassins step foot anywhere on the property. Eryk has gone to switch out with Nate now, so the trap for Purg has been set.”
I gnawed on my lip for a second and stopped when Cecil growled at me. “Lipstick, Chosen.”
“Sorry.” I cleared my throat. “Cress, are you and Fionn ready?”
“Yes. For his part in my wife’s death—” Fionn’s deep voice rumbled over the channel “—Agarthon will die today.
“Cool. Bronwyn?”
“We’re in position.”
She had the most difficult job of all—rescuing Martina as soon as I found out where the Andresanos had stashed her.
They had promised to show me proof of life before I handed over the high fae spark stone, but I’d learned the lesson that Connor kept teaching me.
He always sunk to new depths. There was a good chance he’d have someone kill Martina before we got to her, just to spite me.
Due to the nature of some of her former work as a trauma therapist, Bronwyn had a whole network of human colleagues she could call on to help her rescue an abducted woman.
She refused to answer too many questions about them, but I gathered she had part-time vigilante friends who had felt the sting of a slow-moving justice system.
They were now spread out around the city, waiting for the call. The very second I got Martina’s location, she’d take care of it and join whatever strike team was closest as soon as she could.
Then, it was up to me to lure Connor right where we needed him to be. “Good luck, everyone,” I murmured.
“We’ll see you at the portal, Chosen,” Donovan whispered. I felt him tug on our bond, and it soothed my ragged pulse a little. I could almost feel where he was, drifting like a ghost on the rooftops of the enormous houses around us.
Bart and I reached the gate and gave our names to a muscular man in a bulging tuxedo. He checked his tablet, frowned down at Cecil, but welcomed us inside.
I took a deep breath. “Showtime.” I was having trouble slowing my heart rate down. Adrenaline surged through me, and my fingers twitched, as if begging for a sword.
Bart squeezed my hand. “Relax,” he said. “This mansion is packed full of humans. The laws of the realm will be in effect, so nobody can attack us here.”
“And the street outside is too busy for banwyn swarms,” Cecil added, trotting at my feet.
Cress was on banwyn-watch. We’d been magically monitoring the swarms just in case they indicated Martina’s location, but so far, they were clustered underground in small groups, scattered across the city. I assumed that like Bronwyn’s friends, they were waiting to be activated, too.
I took another deep breath as the noise of the party grew louder—laughing voices and soft jazz music.
The outer courtyard was packed with people, lingering at the entrance in the flattering soft-golden lamplight, calling out greetings and air-kissing, milling around late-flowering bushes of hostas and box hedges.
Great bushes of lavender mingled with the intoxicating, exotic scent of jasmine lining one side of the courtyard, spilling over the wall.
The huge double doors of the mansion were open, spilling gorgeous men in sharp suits and stunning women in beautiful gowns onto the steps.
All held glasses of champagne or priceless whiskey, laughing and murmuring to each other behind their hands.
More than a few familiar faces glanced at me as we walked through the front courtyard, but most looked away quickly.
My fall from grace was still fresh, and nobody was sure what had brought on my reemergence from exile.
Gossip spread quickly, so I assumed news of my legal battles with the Andresanos was a hot topic.
I guess that most of San Francisco society was waiting to see who would emerge the victor before being seen to cozy up to either of us.
Bart was a far more popular figure, kissing cheeks and shaking hands. He was exhausted and edgy but putting on a brave face.
“Susan!” A set of bright-white teeth emerged from the darkness to my left.
“Oh.” I turned. “Hi, Dan.”
He lurched towards me, wearing a sharply tailored tuxedo, voice booming. “It’s great to see you!” Air-kissing me on both cheeks, he grinned so brightly I blinked against the sudden glare. “I wasn’t sure you’d show up.”
“I wasn’t sure I would either, if I’m being honest.” I smiled at him. Dan was a vain, self-absorbed, petty bitch, but he was very publicly giving me his stamp of approval in front of a whole crowd of people in the courtyard.
Dan turned and nodded cooly. “Good evening, Bart.”
“Good evening.” Bart inclined his head, his voice just as cool. “How are you, Dan?” His head whipped to the left. “Oh look, the Saxby twins are here, I must go say hello.” He lumbered away.
I turned to Dan and rolled my eyes. “Are you two ever going to bury the hatchet?”
“He would have to forgive me first.” Dan had the grace to look sheepish. “And I don’t think he will.”
We’d never spoken about this. Even Bart and I never talked about it. But Dan and Bart had been secretly dating when he was forced out of the closet. He asked Dan to come out with him, but Dan refused and broke up with him instead.
Nobody knew except for me.
“You know, I never thanked you,” Dan went on.
“For what?”
“For keeping my secret.”
“It’s not my secret to tell.”
“That wouldn’t stop anyone else.” For a second, a hint of genuine sadness passed over his face. “I know what you think of me, Susan, and I know I deserve it.”
“Dan…”