by Cate Martin
Was Brianna lonely? She didn't seem unhappy. But maybe there was more Sophie and I could be doing to draw her out.
Like this party. This had been a good idea. Even if the other people in the house with us seemed largely superfluous to Brianna.
I turned my attention back to my skirt, but as much as I twisted, I couldn't get a clear view of where I thought I might have ripped it.
"Oh dear," said one of the young women. I bristled, steeling myself for a mock show of concern that was really going to contain a dozen barbs about how I didn't fit in. But this young woman was standing apart from the others, setting aside a glass of champagne that looked untouched as her hands reached out to me.
She sounded sincere. The concern in her large blue eyes felt sincere. But there was something about the shade of her brown hair, the structure of her face. It was reminding me of someone I didn't trust. But who?
I flinched as her hands closed on my arm, but she was just turning me a bit so she could see the back of my dress. She made a tisking sound. "Come with me. I can fix that in a jiffy," she said, linking her arm through mine and leading me out of the ballroom. I tried to catch either Brianna or Sophie's eyes, but they were both too caught up in the dancing to see me being dragged away.
Was this one of Evanora's witches? Was I being led into a trap?
"Do I know you?" I asked, but she didn't answer as she led me down a short corridor to a softly lit room. By day I'm sure it was the lady of the house's parlor, with over-stuffed chairs close to the fireplace and tables perfectly positioned for serving tea. The young woman let go of my arm and started digging through the drawers in a desk under a window that looked out on the back garden. Torches had been placed around the edges of the patio that had been swept clear of snow.
"Here we go," she said, turning back to me with one hand closed around something I couldn't see and a pair of sharp scissors in the other. The light from the fire raced down the length of the scissors as she turned.
"Who are you?" I asked again, trying not to sound panicked. I clutched my bag, felt the shape of my wand within. Not that it would help me.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, lowering the scissors to a less aggressive position. "You asked before. I was distracted trying to remember were Ivy's mother kept her sewing kit. Not that she sews, but this room is always the emergency retreat for us ladies when there are parties on." She seemed to realize she was rambling without quite answering the question and blushed, then switched the scissors to her other hand so she could offer the empty one to shake. "Mary Taylor."
"Mary Taylor," I said, still trying to figure out why she seemed sort of familiar. But then it clicked. Her hair, her face, even the color of her eyes, was the same as Charlotte's. But her temperament softened the features that seemed too harsh in her little sister. "You're Charlotte's sister."
"Yes! Yes, I am," Mary said.
"I'm Amanda Clarke," I said, finally shaking her hand. "I'm a friend of Coco's."
"Coco is such a vivacious girl," Mary said.
"Yes, she is."
"Come," Mary said, taking my arm again and bringing me closer to the fireplace. "Can you turn a bit? I need more light."
"For what?" I asked. While Mary had none of Charlotte's glowering negativity, I still wasn't sure I wanted to turn my back to her and those scissors.
"You have a tear in your skirt. But don't worry! I have a very good hand. I'll stitch it up in a jiffy, and no one will ever be able to tell the difference," she said.
"Oh, that's very kind of you," I said.
"I'm sure you would do the same for me if our roles were reversed," Mary said, squatting low to examine the tear at the hem of my dress then fishing a needle and a spool of thread out of the little sewing kit.
"I might like to, but believe me, if I did it, everyone would see the seam," I said. Mary laughed.
"My mother was a seamstress. I used to help her sometimes. This is a pretty simple mend, really. I can see that your heel caught here from the scuff on the inside of the skirt, but it pulled over here right at the seam. That's easy to hide the mending," Mary said, her eyes focused on threading the needle. She did it in one go then set to work.
"Coco tells me this party is going to end with a surprise," I said. "Do you have any idea what she's talking about?"
"Ivy's parents are announcing her engagement," Mary said. "But that's not exactly a surprise."
"She's been holding court for a while, to hear Coco tell it," I said.
Mary laughed. "That's quite a way to put it. Yes, I suppose she has, but truly her heart has always been settled on just one man."
"Coco said you two were best friends," I said. "You and Ivy."
"Since we were too young to talk," Mary said and smiled up at me. "It's a shame Coco and Charlotte were so far apart in age, or they could be friends too."
"I'm not sure even then they would have much in common," I said.
"That's true," Mary said. "Coco is very unique. Her parents are going to have their hands full when she comes of age."
"Oh, I don't think she'll be running with boys," I said.
"Nor I," Mary said, snipping the end of the thread then taking my extended hand to pull herself back up onto her feet. "Unless those boys are pirates, or rumrunners, or perhaps even revolutionaries."
Now it was my turn to laugh. "That does sound just like Coco."
Mary was smiling back at me, but then the smile melted away into a look of confusion. "She exaggerates and tells stories, but never outright lies. I wonder what she means that Ivy has some surprise in store? She's never said anything like that to me."
"I thought perhaps her choice of fiancé might be a touch scandalous," I said.
Mary's frown deepened. "Because he's poor or because he was raised in an orphanage, you mean?"
"I'm not judging," I said. "I just thought that might be the shock Coco meant."
"No, it can't be that," Mary said. "Everyone knows how much Ivy adores Edward. You only have to spend a moment or two with them when they're in a room together to feel that."
I bit at my lip and tried to keep an interested look on my face, but in truth, those words stabbed a little. I had never met Ivy or seen the two of them together, but I had heard Edward talk of Ivy. I had known how much he thought of her since the moment I first met him. But clearly, I hadn't let myself give any thought to Ivy's end of things.
"Her parents?" I prompted.
"Love him," Mary said earnestly. "Ivy's father is full of praise for his intelligence and work ethic. With his good character, there is no limit to how far he'll go. That's what he says, and I know Ivy's mother adores him. And just between us, I think his lack of living family is a plus for her. Now she doesn't have to share Ivy with another prominent family. In all but name, she'll still be a McTavet."
"It sounds like they'll be very happy together," I said.
"I hope so," Mary said, turning to put the sewing kit away. "Ivy has always been very good to me. After my father died and left us penniless, most of my friends from school just disappeared. But not Ivy."
"It's so strange for me to be here," I said. "Do you know I've never even met Ivy? Only Coco."
"And how do you know Coco?" Mary asked, once more linking her arm in mine as we walked back to the ballroom.
"She's helped me with a few things since I came to town in October," I said. "I live just next door."
"You're from the charm school?" Mary asked, and her eyes got even wider than usual.
"Yes."
"I'm sorry I didn't place your name before, but Coco has told me so many things about you and your friends," Mary said.
"What sorts of things?" I asked.
"Well, one does have to take Coco's stories with a grain of salt," Mary said, which pretty much answered my question. Coco hadn't seen any of us do anything magical, but she had helped us solve a murder. That was story enough. "And you know Edward?" Mary said, looking not at me but at the open doors to the ballroom.
"I do," I said. I really didn't want to say more than that.
"And Edward's friends," Mary went on.
"Some of them," I admitted. "Why?"
"Because that alarming gentleman has been watching us since we came out of the parlor, and I'm fairly certain it's not me he's looking to talk to," Mary said.
I looked up to see a solitary figure leaning against the doorframe at one of the few places where the light from the ballroom didn't fall. While most of the men around us were in top hats and tails, black and white like the penguins they are often shown as in cartoons, he was wearing a suit of bottle green, the coat long but without tails. His thumbs were resting in the pockets of a dark violet waistcoat, the golden chain of a pocket watch spanning between them.
Mary, still clutching my arm, came to an abrupt halt as the man pushed away from the doorframe to walk towards us. Then he pushed back his bottle-green bowler hat, and I saw his eyes.
"Hello, Amanda," he said.
"Hello, Otto," I replied.
Chapter 4
Otto was grinning at me, waiting for Mary to leave before speaking. But Mary recoiled against me, reading that grin as more of a leer. She clutched my arm tightly.
"It's okay, Mary," I said, putting my hand on hers until she relaxed her grip.
"You know him?" Mary asked.
"Yes. Like you said, he's a friend of Edward's," I said. Otto's grin ticked up a notch at that.
But the look of concern on Mary's face didn't diminish. She leaned close to whisper in my ear. "That's not all he is."
"I know," I said. "I'll be all right. Perfectly safe. I was actually hoping to run into him, although I had no idea he would be here at this party."
"Yes," Mary said, giving him a side eye. She hadn't expected to see him at the party either, although how much she really knew about him, I had no idea.
"Go on ahead," I said, giving her a little nudge towards the ballroom. "Get me a glass of champagne. I'll be there in just a minute."
Mary nodded, then reached up and touched my head. I almost flinched away, but she was just adjusting something in my hair. Then she smiled, dropped the smile to give Otto a minimally polite curt nod, then slipped through a gaggle of partygoers lingering in the doorway to disappear in the ballroom.
"What did you ever do to her?" I asked Otto.
"Her? Nothing," Otto said. "I guess she doesn't like my outfit."
"You don't really fit in here," I said.
"Wouldn't want to," Otto said with a dismissive snort.
"I'm guessing you're here for Edward," I said. His eyes searched my face, but I knew I had kept my voice perfectly neutral when I had said Edward's name.
"I am," he said. "But I'm not the only member of my profession in attendance."
"Really," I said, looking around at the men around us with new eyes. "They all look perfectly ordinary to me."
"Camouflage," Otto said.
"And you're more of a peacock," I said.
"I am who I am," he shrugged. Then he took my elbow and pulled me a little further from the light spilling from the doorway, into the shadows. I was getting a little annoyed with people leading me around, but his eyes were deadly serious when he turned to face me.
"What is it?" I asked, clutching my bag again. My bag, and the useless wand inside.
"You told her you were hoping to run into me," he said.
"I was just putting her at ease," I said.
"Just?"
"Well, also," I said, and then I was the one moving further away from the sounds of the party. Otto gamely followed. "Evanora. I'm guessing you haven't had any run-ins with her?"
"Not I," Otto said.
"Then others?"
Otto shrugged. "I hear rumors. She definitely is moving through the same circles as I do. I think she's been avoiding me. But…"
"But?" I said when his words trailed off.
He sighed. "I might be being paranoid. Probably am. Lots of things are up in the air now since Dapper Dan was murdered."
"Dapper Dan was murdered?" I said. "That was the guy you mentioned before, the one who enforces the rules between cops and gangsters, right?"
"He was," Otto said. "Until someone put a bomb in his car."
"You have car bombs in 1927?"
His eyebrows knit together, and I remembered that as much as he knew I traveled through time, I should be more careful to keep my voice down.
"It's the first I've heard of someone bombing a car," he said. "You get a lot of that in the future?"
"Never mind. I shouldn't have said anything. Tell me why you think you're paranoid. Or rather, why you might not be paranoid."
"I feel like I'm being watched," Otto said.
"By the police or by other gangsters?" I asked.
"Either? Both? I don't know," he said, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair. "Maybe neither. Because it's always women. Every time I get that itchy 'someone is spying on me' feeling and I look around, all I see are women."
"Women, more than one?"
"Not at the same time," Otto said. "But never the same one twice."
"How many times?" I asked.
"That I've noticed?"
"Obviously."
"Twelve."
"Twelve and then it stopped?"
"Exactly," Otto said. I didn't know if the number meant anything to him, though. But twelve plus Evanora made thirteen.
"Twelve precisely?" I asked. "That exact number?"
"Yes, woman," Otto said. "Do I seem like a person with a poor grasp of details to you?"
"No, but it's important to be clear," I said.
"What does it mean?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said. "You don't see any of them here, do you?"
"No," he said. "I've been making the rounds through the whole party. Lots of enemies here, but a lot of my own boys as well. And a few who are the worst sort, trying to play for both teams at once. But no sign of any of those women."
"Did you get the sense they wanted you to see them?" I asked.
Otto half-closed his eyes as he consulted his memory. "I hadn't thought of that. Maybe they did. They were subtle about it, though."
"None of that hazy memory thing that Evanora does?" I asked.
"No, I can picture them all in my head clear as day. If they do come here, I'll spot them."
"They aren't here," I said. "Brianna, Sophie and I were sure of that before we came inside. But I should tell them what's going on, just in case."
"What is going on?" Otto asked.
"I don't know," I admitted. "Except it sounds like Evanora is not the only witch roaming the dark corners of 1927."
"Soon to be 1928," Otto said. "Let's go in the ballroom. I could use a drink."
"So are you here because it's a gangster-friendly party, or because of the big announcement?" I asked as we strolled back towards the light and the music.
"Oh, you know about that, do you?" Otto asked.
"It seems to be all anyone is talking about," I said.
"Indeed," Otto said. The word had a gritty quality as if he were speaking with his jaw clenched tightly.
"I'm surprised to find you here, actually. I didn't get the sense that you approved," I said.
"Of Edward marrying Ivy?" Otto asked. "No, not remotely. But he's like a brother to me. I would never turn my back on him."
A waiter passed by with a tray, and Otto deftly caught two of the champagne glasses without even detaining the man. He handed one to me, and I took a sip.
"And you're here as well," Otto said, drinking his entire glass in one swallow.
"I didn't know about the announcement," I said. "Sophie and Brianna just thought a New Year's Eve party would be a nice break from our usual grind."
"Grind?"
"I mean work," I said.
"I got that," Otto said. "I'm just not sure what you consider work." Then a dark look passed over his eyes. "I'm not sure I want to consider it."
"It's mostly not like what you saw be
fore," I said. The warmth in my cheeks was only partially from the champagne. Mostly it was shame at the memory of the last time the two of us had been together. Our lives had been in danger, but the dark power I had channeled still frightened me. "I don't usually do… that."
"Hey," Otto said, glancing around us then leaning closer to me. "I'm not judging you. As far as I'm concerned, you saved my life. Whatever you did, or however you did it, and whatever price you had to pay, I'm grateful."
"One could argue you were only in danger because of me in the first place," I said.
"One might. I won't," Otto said, then snatched another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. This one he took a mere sip from. "So you didn't know about the surprise part of the evening's festivities when you got here." I shook my head. "But after you found out, you stayed?"
"I'm all right," I said. He gave me a skeptical look. "I am. I already told you…" But this time I couldn't keep my voice neutral. It was catching and not letting go. And it wasn't about Edward. Or it wasn't just about Edward. I swallowed then forced words out past the thickening of my throat. "You remember what I said."
"I do," Otto said, once more standing almost too close beside me, eyes moving all around us to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. "And I know why you said it. You have something inside of you most people don't have, and it scares you. And you want to protect Edward from that. I get it."
"Also the time thing," I said.
"Whatever, it doesn't matter," Otto said.
"It does," I said.
"It's why you think that you and Edward don't belong together," he said. "But it doesn't change what's in your heart, does it? And you're going to stand here and watch him pledge himself to another? And that isn't going to crush you?"
I looked down at the champagne still fizzing in my glass and blinked hard. I kept blinking, over and over, until the danger of tears was passed.
"You're not just here for Edward, are you?" I asked.
"Well, I didn't know you'd be here," he said. He was about to say more when the song the band was playing ended and the ballroom reverberated with applause.
There was another sound buried beneath all the clapping and hooting and laughter, one that only slowly became clearer as people fell silent. A metallic ringing like a chime or a bell, coming from the front hall.