by Cat Adams
I’d need to talk about it all with Gwen, my shrink, and soon. But tonight I was working and needed to be on my game. So I forced thoughts of Mortensen and Okalani out of my mind and kept scanning the crowd for anything untoward or unusual.
Adriana and I were passing through the anteroom, greeting the guests and schmoozing. She was a vision in emerald and gold. The queen, home at last, was sitting on the sidelines, letting the crowd come to her. She looked lovely, but tired, and the scars she’d mentioned to me days before were angry red welts marring her porcelain skin.
Powerful people are just as vain and petty as the rest of us. The women all wanted to be the most beautiful and best dressed. This was a little trickier than usual since we were all wearing basically the same dress. Ah, the lavalava—equalizer of women. Of course, it really didn’t work that way. Beautiful women looked beautiful. Homely women looked … really well dressed. There were dresses in every conceivable fabric and pattern, with jewels in more colors than the rainbow. No expense had been spared as the attendees all tried to outshine one another.
All the men wore tuxedos, in a variety of classic styles that looked good on most men. Still, some wear them better than others. I saw John Creede and felt a wash of emotions. His tux fit so flawlessly and he looked so good in it that most people would never have guessed he was actually working security, protecting King Dahlmar’s brother, Arkady.
Greede gave me a cold nod, acknowledging me but making it strictly business. That stung, but not as much as I’d expected it too—probably because I was still angry with him. There were things I missed about him, but there were also plenty of things I didn’t.
Gunnar Thorsen came up to Adriana. I hadn’t seen him since he’d oh-so-nicely interrogated me. I’d found him handsome in a business suit. In a tuxedo, he was stunning. His long hair had been pulled back in a tight braid. There are men who look effete with long hair, almost girly. He wasn’t one of them, not with those shoulders and those chiseled features.
“Ladies, you’re looking lovely this evening.” He pulled Adriana into a light embrace, then released her and said, “That’s an excellent choice for you, Celia, very striking.”
“Thank you.” I smiled up at him. I knew I looked good. My lavalava was made of raw silk in a dramatic black and white hibiscus pattern. The dress went well with my pale skin and there was quite a lot of that skin showing. Because it was such a bold print, I’d opted for simple yet elegant jewelry: a pair of pearl earrings and a platinum chain at my wrist.
A lavalava is not made for a concealed carry, so I had been limited in my weapons choices. Had I had the option of wearing a jacket it would have been easier, but Adriana had vetoed the idea, saying that this really wasn’t that type of an event. So I had a small gun in my evening bag, along with breath mints and a tube of lipstick.
“My parents are here this evening,” Gunnar said.
Adriana gave him a startled look that he ignored in favor of staring directly at me. Looking at him, I saw that despite his careful grooming, his face reflected the strain of the last few days.
“My father asked for a word with you, Celia. Apparently he has a message from my grandfather.”
Adriana’s gulp was clearly audible over the voices of the crowd and the muted background music. Apparently I was missing something important.
“Your grandfather?”
“Yes. You should be flattered. Odin doesn’t often take an interest.”
Odin? Oh crap. Thorsen wasn’t just Gunnar’s surname. He was actually Thor’s son? His father, the God of Thunder, was here at the party. Um, okay then. Wow. It was my turn to gulp. I suddenly wished I’d snagged one of the flutes of champagne that had been circulating around. I really needed a drink.
I managed to choke out a response, but it wasn’t easy. “Oh, I’m flattered. I’m also alarmed.”
Thorsen threw back his head and laughed.
“Shall we join my parents then?” He winked at me. “I promise they won’t bite.”
“Of course.” Adriana looped her arm through his. I couldn’t read her thoughts, but her expression was enough. She wouldn’t miss this for the world. Gunnar held out his other arm for me and I took it. Not just for show, either. I needed the support.
Thor, God of Thunder, son of Odin Allfather, looked great in a tuxedo. Like his son, he was big and blond. Unlike his son, he seemed to be having a marvelous time. He was all smiles as he introduced his wife. “Father, mother, this is Princess Adriana of Serenity, the daughter of Queen Lopaka.” They murmured their acknowledgment and greetings. “And this”—Gunnar gestured to me—“is Princess Celia Graves, granddaughter of Queen Lopaka’s beloved brother, Kalino.”
“Ladies, it is a pleasure.” Thor stepped forward. Taking Adriana’s hand in his, he kissed her knuckles, bowing just the tiniest bit at the waist. “King Dahlmar is a lucky man.”
“And I, a lucky woman.” She smiled as he released her hand. Then he turned his attention to me; his wide blue eyes, the color of a midnight sky with flecks of starlight, took me in from head to toe.
He took my hand, as he had Adriana’s, laying a gentle kiss on my fingertips. I felt a jolt of electricity pass from him to me and gasped in surprise. It made him chuckle, a low, wicked sound that earned him a poke in the ribs from his wife. “Stop playing games and give her the message,” she scolded. He gave an exaggerated sigh, but released my hand and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him.
“Very well. My father said to tell you these words. ‘Have faith. The right weapon can overcome what will come against you.’”
That was encouraging, if vague. “I don’t suppose he told you which weapon or what is coming against me?” I put a wheedling tone in my voice. It made him laugh.
“I’m sorry. No. He probably shouldn’t have said anything at all, but he likes you. You remind him a bit of the Valkyries.”
That was a serious compliment. I did my best to remember what little I’d been taught about the Norse pantheon back in my university days so that I could phrase my thanks properly. “My thanks to you Thor, Thunderer, and to Odin Allfather. I’ll endeavor to be worthy of such high praise.”
He leaned forward, close enough that his beard tickled my ear when he whispered, “You already are. Your exploits will someday be written on the walls of our great hall. So it has been foretold.”
What could I say to that? I was literally speechless. Fortunately I was saved from having to reply by the ringing of the chime that signaled dinner was about to be served. Gunnar, Thor, and his lady melted into the crowd moving into the dining room without saying good-bye. Adriana, meanwhile, grabbed me by the arm and began dragging me bodily down the hallway to the back entrance.
“Come on, we’re late! We were already supposed to be in there at the head table when the chimes rang.” She wasn’t quite running, but she was walking damned fast. At the end of the hall, the Secret Service agents standing guard came to attention. One opened the door. The other pulled a small holy water squirt gun to confirm we were who we seemed to be.
“I’m coming. Will you relax? It’s not like they’re going to start the party without you. You’re the bride, for heaven’s sake.”
She glared at me over her shoulder. “Only you would say something like that.” She offered her hand to be sprayed. She passed, of course, and scurried through the door and onto the dais. I was seconds behind.
The head table was long and narrow, with all seats facing the crowd. King Dahlmar and Adriana were in the center. I was seated to her right. Igor was to my right. Natasha had the last seat on our side. Dahlmar’s side consisted of the king, Queen Lopaka, Dahlmar’s brother Arkady, and, finally, Olga. I didn’t know who’d made the seating arrangements, but I was happy with them. I was near enough to Adriana to protect her if need be, and Olga was as far away as we could decently manage.
While the tables below had only candlelight to see by, we had stage lighting. It made it difficult to see clearly out into the cro
wd, but put us on display nicely. Of course it also made me nervous as hell. I so didn’t want to do something hideous and embarrassing in front of hundreds of people. And it would be just my luck for it to happen.
I shook my head. Don’t even think about it.
It took a few minutes for everyone to be seated, but eventually the guests were all in their places and only the servers were on their feet, moving quietly among the tables, filling wine and water glasses.
“Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests.” Dahlmar spoke without a microphone, but his voice was clearly audible throughout the room. All murmured conversations ceased as every eye turned to him. “I want to thank you all for joining me in this celebration. I am happier than I can even express at the prospect of marrying my beloved, and truly overjoyed that you have chosen to join us. We met by chance and were paired by duty, but have had the extraordinary luck to find love.”
He turned to Adriana, and his smile was warm and adoring. Either he truly loved her or he was one hell of an actor. “This morning the Princess Adriana was baptized into my faith. I did not ask this of her. It was her choice, her decision. But I am most glad to know that she shares my beliefs and the beliefs of my people.” I heard gasps from several places in the room. So Adriana’s actions had been a surprise to some, at least. “In honor of this, I wish to present her with a very special gift.”
He gestured to Igor, who reached into the jacket of his tux to produce a jewel case, which he passed to the king. Dahlmar opened the case, laying it on the plate in front of Adriana. She stared down at it, her eyes gone wide with shock.
“The Eldritch Cross was one of the great magical artifacts of my people. Its powers are legendary. Its loss, during the sieges of the Second World War, was a devastating blow to our people. The seers among us have stated that there will be continuing strife within the ruling family so long as it remains missing.”
He turned to Adriana, taking her hand in his. “Would that I had the original to give you. Alas, I do not. But this, the copy made for my mother by my father with his own hands and his own magic, is my gift to you.”
He let go of her hand to take the necklace from its case. He held it up so the crowd could get a good look. It was a lovely piece, a large cross, encrusted with emeralds, pearls, and golden topaz, colors that perfectly suited Adriana’s beauty. He fastened it around her delicate neck, kissed her tenderly, and turned back to the crowd.
“With your indulgence I have another bit of business to attend to before we eat.” He stood, and everyone in the room followed suit.
“There is an award given to citizens of Rusland whose actions on behalf of King and Country show such extraordinary courage and valor as to provide an example for all to aspire to. I am, perhaps, a bit tardy in bestowing this honor on its recipient, for her actions in thwarting not one, but two political coups surely earned her this honor long before now.”
He turned to me, and I found myself blinking stupidly as cameras flashed blindingly. “Princess Celia Kalino Graves, I present you the Silver Eagle of Rusland with my deepest gratitude, and that of all my countrymen.”
He crossed the stage to stand in front of me. He embraced me, then stepped back. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a loop of black ribbon with an exquisite silver bird hanging from it. He put it on me, settling the weight of it on my shoulders before turning to face the crowd. “I give you Princess Celia, hero of Rusland.”
“Huzzah!” Male voices, scattered throughout the room, called out the honor the first time. But the second and third cries were voiced by nearly everyone, a joyous shout that echoed through the hall.
King Dahlmar hugged me again, discreetly passing me a pristine white handkerchief as he did. I wiped the tears from my eyes as Dahlmar moved back to stand behind his seat. “Now, our business is done. Let us eat.”
26
The bachelorette party was scheduled for a late start, but the dinner ran long, so we didn’t have time to change before dashing to the limo that would take us to the docks. Milena, Adriana’s best friend, was officially hosting the party even though it was being held on Adriana’s yacht. The Secret Service had derailed the original plan of renting a cruise ship and hiring caterers due to “security concerns,” which I hadn’t been privy to. Yet. So Adriana’s own crew and staff had been pressed into service.
The limo was a little crowded, what with me, Adriana, and our security—just Helen Baker for me, but a team of four, plus the driver, for the bride.
The day I’d arrived on Serenity, the harbor had been busy but not too crowded. Now … my, how things had changed. Every slip was filled and more ships were anchored offshore; their passengers and crew probably used small boats to get back and forth from the island. The landward ends of the piers, this side of the security barriers, were crawling with paparazzi and crowded with onlookers hoping for a glimpse of the princess. What a freaking security nightmare!
When the car doors opened we were buffeted by a wave of sound—people calling Adriana’s name, and even mine—and the flashes of dozens of cameras. We each gave a brief wave before the guards hustled us onto the yacht.
The sun was setting, bathing the low-hanging cirrus clouds in a blaze of reds, pinks, and purples that were reflected in the ocean. We were met on deck by the hostess and the other three guests. Adriana introduced me to Milena, a pretty redhead with lots of freckles and the most amazing amber-colored eyes. I’d wondered about Adriana’s best friend from earliest childhood and was surprised to find that she was mostly a subdued, serious woman with an acerbic wit. She soon had all of us in stitches as she detailed how she’d been followed around all day by none-too-subtle members of the world press, many of whom had offered her obscene amounts of money for the “inside scoop” and pictures from the party.
Nani and Naneka were identical twins with honey-colored hair and blue eyes. It would have been impossible to tell them apart if Nani wasn’t hugely pregnant. They were bright and cheerful, chattering away like a pair of birds. Keohi, on the other hand, was a sultry, sloe-eyed, dark-haired beauty who hung silently back, watching the others, but only rarely saying anything. When she did, it was worth listening.
Adriana noticed me watching Keohi and spoke into my mind. You are right to be impressed; Keohi is quite brilliant. She works as a marine biologist, studying the effect of oil spills on ocean ecosystems and developing natural methods to contain the spills. She went on at length, talking to me about her friend while laughing at the jokes of the others. I found it fascinating that she could carry on two entirely different conversations at once. Keohi once told me she was only able to first become published in scientific journals under a male pseudonym, because people saw too much beauty to believe she had brains.
I’d never had that problem. In the land of the Hollywood butterflies, I’d always been a useful brown moth.
But now you are royalty, Celia. A pedigree has its own beauty.
Yeah, but that’s not the sort of fame I ever wanted. Adriana looked at me curiously, truly not understanding why being royal had so little value to me.
I went back to chatting amiably by the dancing light of a string of party lanterns hung around the deck. The drinks were plentiful, the conversation excellent. It didn’t take long for the atmosphere to lull me into a sense of complacency. That’s why bodyguards are seldom guests at the party, but to hell with it. There were plenty of other guards there. I decided to have a little fun.
I discovered, to my delight, that the Michelin-star chef on Adriana’s yacht had previously worked at the secure facility where Vicki had lived for much of her adult life. He’d once made me Belgian waffles and syrup in liquid form. Today I was treated to all the same appetizers as the other guests, liquified, in a trio of chilled martini glasses. I found that both clever and touching—someone, the hostess or the chef, had taken time to think of me.
All four of Adriana’s buddies were nice, funny, intelligent women. They weren’t toadies and they weren’t anything remotely cl
ose to what I would have expected Adriana’s friends to be like when I first met the prickly princess with a huge chip on her shoulder. They were, however, exactly the kind of people I would expect to see in the company of the Adriana I was now coming to know.
We were taken well out to sea, with our ever-present escort vessels keeping a discreet distance. Equally watchful were the helicopters that passed overhead.
Adriana, are those Secret Service choppers or press?
Both. It’s the open sea, so mother couldn’t legally clear the air space. I know it’s annoying, but try to ignore it.
Easy for her to say. I kept remembering Mexico and the armed thugs who’d fired machine guns at us from overhead. I sat and smiled, drink in hand, but now I was on high alert, my former relaxation gone. That vigilance, and my vampire vision, let me see the diver drop from a helicopter as it swung low beside us, photographers in the cabin snapping telephoto pictures.
I sent a warning to Baker mentally. Diver in the water. Three o’clock off the port side. I heard her mutter something into the mic at her wrist. Almost immediately the yacht’s engines roared to life. At the sound, the women all looked around, startled. It takes a couple of minutes to get a large vessel moving from a dead stop, but the captain did the best he could. In fact, the movement as the ship set sail was so abrupt and jerky that Keohi, who had been standing, had to grab onto the table to keep herself from falling.
In the distance, the escort ships started moving in.
Adriana was pulled down to the deck by the nearest guard and thought at me in alarm, Celia, what is going on? We aren’t supposed to be heading back yet.
Stay down. A diver dropped off that last chopper. I’m pretty sure he had a PMD.
Originally developed for the military, a PMD, or Personal Movement Device, was about the size of a dinner plate and used a combination of magic and technology to allow a diver to move through the water as fast as most ships while maintaining a constant flow of oxygen. If the guy I’d seen drop off the chopper had one, he’d be here in seconds.