"You guess," Ruby teased.
"Like I said," Jaccob replied, "I don’t understand magic."
"Do you think whoever it was tonight used magic to break in?" she asked, trying not to sound too interested.
Jaccob shrugged. "No idea," he allowed. "The police don’t know, either. But I am sure they used magic to get away."
"How do you know that?" she asked, again trying her best to seem somewhere between dispassionately interested and idly curious.
"They got away across the roof," he answered her, frowning as he reached across the table for one of the narrow spring rolls on a triangular plate. "There were a bunch of unexplained fires and ... I think--" His face screwed itself into a confused frown. "--a swarm of rats and mice, and then--" Jacob shuddered as he continued. "--ants, maybe, and cockroaches."
Ruby frowned then, too. She was glad she hadn’t hung around to watch that portion of the proceedings. Rather than dwell on that mental picture, she decided to focus on something else Jaccob had said. "You think?" she asked.
Jaccob frowned as he took a bite of his spring roll. "I think," he admitted. "It’s weird. It’s like I remember it, but then I don’t. I think I saw something or did something, but then I doubt it happened at all."
Ruby nodded her head and reached for her discarded martini. She used the wide brim of the glass to hide the smile she couldn’t suppress as she took another sip. Doubt had surely earned her keep if Jaccob couldn’t even properly remember his conflict with the Blights less than two hours ago.
"That’s odd," Ruby commented coolly when she was able to gain control of her expression again. She polished off the rest of her martini before pushing the glass to the far side of the table and turning her attention back to the ice cup and its contents.
"The whole thing is odd," Jaccob concurred, "but it’s magic, so that’s just par for the course."
CHAPTER SEVEN
The rest of the night had gone exceedingly well. Ruby and Jaccob had talked on and off about magic, and all its attendant quirks and foibles, Ruby pretending not to know even a fraction of what she actually did. And she’d managed to get him to share everything he knew about what had gone on at the police station.
Nobody was sure yet what was missing from the vault. Fire had apparently done a real number on the building, and they were still waiting for the place to cool off enough for authorized personnel to get in and take inventory. Ruby was singularly pleased to learn that Pestilence really had wiped out all manner of surveillance in the place, and the police had absolutely no leads. She’d pushed on that one, too, asking, "Who breaks in to a police station--really?"
Jaccob had said everyone’s best guess was there might be a new supervillain in town, and they were bracing for more occult crimes to come.
That was all very good news, in Ruby’s opinion.
It was a lovely night altogether. For hours, they had sat and talked and eaten and drank. Jaccob was an interesting guy. He shared that he liked comic books, classic rock, and disaster movies. His favorite thing about this bar was the cocktail in the ice glasses, but he also had been known to call ahead and get an order of green bean spring rolls, sweetbread croquettes, or those divine little foie gras pastilles brought out to him in his car to eat in between afternoon appointments around town. He had excellent taste in food and drink and even better taste in flowers. Ruby was already hoping to see some evidence of his taste in jewelry some time in the future.
She was sure by the time the two of them sauntered out a side door arm-in-arm that the place had long since closed to the public. But if Jaccob made a habit of being here after hours, Ruby certainly wasn’t going to complain. It wasn’t the first time she’d been given such special consideration after all, and she’d never been one to contest the VIP treatment. A light rain had begun to fall as the two of them laughed their way out of the restaurant and into Ruby’s waiting town car.
When Jaccob had confessed to having sent the Stardust suit back to his place without him, Ruby had been uncharacteristically amused by the mental picture of its flying there all on its own. But she’d also been able to discern from the remark that he hadn’t exactly arrived at Durian by car. Seeing as she’d had her driver standing by all night, there had been no hesitation on her part in inviting him to ride back downtown with her. After all, they were neighbors; it just made sense not to make him call for a car when they were going to practically the same place.
After a distance of only a few blocks, they came to an irksome and unexpected halt. When Ruby sent the driver out to investigate, she found herself particularly glad of the enchanted contract she had the man under. Not only was he magically unable to speak of anything that went on in the car, he was all but completely enslaved to her will whenever she was inside it. Ruby had been pleased to find that these bits of magic she’d worked on her underlings had held fast even in the face of the loss of her personal powers. And as the rain grew heavier, pelting the roof of the town car with its noisy downfall, she was certainly thankful she didn’t need to get out to check on things herself.
When the driver returned, it was not with good news. The bridge that would take them back across the river to downtown was closed for unspecified reasons, as were several other bridges in the vicinity. Apparently there was something criminal going on--not an unusual turn of events in Cobalt City by any stretch, but an odd thing for Stardust not to know about.
"Should you--" Ruby asked Jaccob as the driver began turning the car around to at least get them out of this traffic jam. "I mean ... should Stardust be--?" She gestured in the general direction of the police lights and chaos just outside her window.
Jaccob, apparently wondering the same thing, was already tapping at a device on his wrist that strongly resembled a wristwatch, but which Ruby was decidedly certain was not. "I guess not," he answered after a moment. He seemed to be scrolling through data on his wrist display, and was, in Ruby’s estimation, looking a little forlorn. "At least," he added with a noncommittal shrug, "nobody called me."
Ruby nodded, looking out her window to get as good a look as possible at the goings on across the bridge. There was every chance this was just the kind of ordinary mayhem that peppered the streets of Cobalt City every Friday night, but there was an equal chance the Blights had had something to do with it. They’d made no secret of the fact that, while they were at her beck and call while in her custody, hers weren’t the only orders of business they would be seeing to in town. As long as they didn’t get caught, Ruby didn’t give a scrap of a damn what they did when she wasn’t using them. And as the next hint of a plan began to hatch in her brain, she was ready to give them not only credit, but some small measure of reward.
"Just head out to the house," Ruby instructed the driver, who nodded in reply but gave no audible answer as the boss turned her attention back to Jaccob. "I have a place in Regency Heights," she told him, "the opposite direction from where all of this stuff is going on. We can stay there tonight and come back into town in the morning--after all of this madness has been cleaned up and put away."
Jaccob’s gaze shot up suddenly. His whole body tensed, and he swallowed hard. He reached over and took Ruby by the hand, averting his gaze from hers before he spoke. "Ruby," he began softly, "I’m sorry if I--"
It was clear to Ruby that Jaccob had no way to say whatever it was he was trying to say. She sat quietly and waited for him to gather his thoughts.
It might have been a whole minute before he took a deep breath and started again. "Look," he started, still unable to meet her eyes, "I like you, and I’ve had a really good time tonight. And I don’t want you to think that--" He trailed off again, but Ruby was beginning to get the gist of what he was trying to say. "It’s just," he began again, "well, it’s really soon, and--"
"Jaccob." Ruby interrupted him before he was able to get any more words out. She was sure now she’d figured him out. He was adorable, and she was about to score some serious points with him. Ruby brought her free hand to
his chin and tilted his face up until she could look him in the eye. "It’s a mansion," she said. "I have five guest rooms."
Jaccob’s jaw fell slack and a slight flush came to his cheeks. "You have five--" he repeated.
"Guest rooms," she finished the sentence for him. "You can take your pick." She smiled gently and nodded.
Jaccob shut his eyes and leaned back against the seat, shaking his head and clenching his jaw shut. "I’m sorry," he said after a moment. "That was awfully presumptuous of me."
Ruby squeezed his hand and shrugged. "Nah," she countered. "I suggested you come home with me and spend the night. Your assumption was pretty standard. And besides," she added, grinning a little more wickedly now, "it’s not that I wouldn’t. It’s just I know things are complicated for you right now. And I don’t want to be the reason things get more complicated. And I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. We’ll get there, or we won’t. But that’s not a question for tonight. Tonight the only question we need to answer is how we can get enough sleep to function properly in the morning without having to resort to napping in the car while trying to get home."
Jaccob nodded and smiled. "Yeah, good idea."
~
Ruby had been sure the Eye would be warded. The idea that anyone would create an item with as much power as this one supposedly held and not put some sort of magical shielding on it was absurd. No sorcerer capable of the creation of such a thing could possibly lack the foresight to see that others would try and steal it; over the course of centuries, one or more of those attempts was bound to be successful. Putting in your own flavor of magical security was the best way to assure you had time to steal the thing back before a thief had the chance to use it against you. It was a strategy as old as time, and so Ruby was not at all surprised when her first attempts at magically accessing the Eye had been wholly unsuccessful.
After bidding Jaccob a friendly farewell over breakfast, she’d headed to her sanctum to work on the gem. She’d begged off riding back in to town with him with a fib about a conference call she’d likely miss due to traffic. Never mind that it was a Saturday. Jaccob had made it clear he had no clue how the entertainment business operated, and Ruby was quick enough to use that to her advantage. She told him she’d drive herself into town after the call, and even teased that she would give him a ride in her sports car later on if he asked nicely. When he’d countered with a promise to give her a ride on the Stardust suit someday, she’d practically giggled at the blush that followed. He hadn’t meant the innuendo, but he’d caught it as soon as he’d said it. Ruby had just winked and called him a tease. He’d stumbled over his next few words, and Ruby had brushed it off and shooed him out the door.
It was less that she wanted to be rid of him, and more that she was beside herself with anticipation of finally getting to work on the Eye. She’d slept with it under her pillow, knowing sometimes the dream state could be a key to accessing certain kinds of magic. But it was evident the ward around the item was far too powerful for the item’s energy to be tapped so easily.
Ruby didn’t mind--not really. She had expected as much. She knew about wards, and she knew about breaking them. She was an expert on this kind of magic, on how it was created and might come to be destroyed. It was only a matter of time before she would be able to crack the Eye and gain access to its power.
It had been a fortunate twist of fate that had found her in the mansion this morning instead of at her penthouse. The Tower, as opulent and as convenient as it was for most purposes, lacked any prepared magical space. There was some shielding, of course--what little she had been able to spin in her newly mundane state--but it was scarcely enough to protect her from external casting. It certainly wasn’t set up for any major ritual undertakings. The mansion, on the other hand, was singularly equipped for such things. Surrounded by earth, lined with lead, tiled in natural salt, and with wards that had taken her days to construct at the height of her power, the sanctum in the mansion’s basement was the only place Ruby would dare to fiddle with magic as powerful as that contained within the Eye of Africa.
This was doubly true considering some of the things Jaccob had shared with her over drinks. Apparently, as he started to feel his liquor, his tongue got a little loose. As it turned out, he seemed to really enjoy talking about superhero stuff. Ruby hadn’t been sure if it was some misguided attempt to impress her or whether he was just unaccustomed to having someone willing to listen to his tales. Either way, some of the information he’d inadvertently spilled could prove invaluable in the long run. Most specifically pertinent to her current purposes, Jaccob had mentioned a young woman who could see and hear the spirits of places and structures. These spirits told her things--things about the goings-on of the people in the area and about anything these spirits found to be unusual or suspicious.
The earthen layer around Ruby’s sanctum should be enough to stop the spirits from prying. The wards, the salt, and the lead would keep out any other type of snoop, technical or magical. In this room, she felt safe enough to start serious work on the Eye. Its power would be hers. It was only a matter of time.
But time, it seemed, was not going to cooperate. And neither was the Eye of Africa. Magic had been eluding Ruby since the unfortunate incident last Christmas, and the gem wasn’t making its return easy. Hours spent in the ritual space with the Eye of Africa, and so far she’d failed to so much as touch its power.
The day had been, to say the least, frustrating. Ruby had been prepared for the Eye to be the most heavily warded, most powerfully protected magical item she had ever encountered. But she hadn’t had even the foggiest inclination that a full day’s work would get her nowhere. But more than nine hours into her wasted Saturday, that had certainly been her experience.
The whole process had been infinitely frustrating. She’d tried everything she knew to get through to the thing and it just didn’t seem to do her any good. Finally admitting defeat and giving in to hunger and thirst, Ruby emerged from her work space to discover it was far later in the day than she had figured. She was exhausted, physically and magically. And she needed to recharge. Leaving the Eye in her own cast circle in her own prepared workspace would not only be the safest way to keep the thing for the time being, it also might do a little to aid in getting through to it, her own magic perhaps able to dilute whatever was protecting it by simple osmosis of energy.
She made quick work of changing from her magical vestments into an outfit more suitable for driving back into town. Ruby enjoyed her little sports car. Bright red, with a high-performance engine and the word MAVEN emblazoned on its license plate, the convertible was Ruby Killingsworth in mechanical form. And although she usually preferred her town car in the city, four p.m. on a Saturday was hardly rush hour, so the drive back to her penthouse was pleasant enough, lacking Cobalt City’s usually high traffic volume.
She had met with a tiny snarl as she turned onto the Quayside Bridge. A couple of minor superheroes were going about some business at the far end, and the traffic in both directions had slowed to get a look. Ruby thought it a little ridiculous that with all the superhero activity in this town, people still stopped to so shamelessly rubberneck. Of course, when she got close enough to the action to see the two heroes for herself, she felt doubly sure her decision to leave the Eye in her workspace had been a sound one. She instantly recognized one of them as Kensei--the young woman Jaccob had described as being able to talk to spirits. Ruby knew a thing or two about spirits, and she was sure any in the area would likely sound an alarm were such a powerful item to cross their sphere. Much better, she figured, to have the Eye tucked safely into a shielded place across town. Even with her hair beneath a scarf and her face behind her overlarge sunglasses, between her vanity license plate and the fact the top was down, Ruby was easily identifiable driving her little sports car. Even if she were able to get away, it was unlikely it would be for good.
She vowed then and there to keep the Eye right where it was until she was sure s
he could shield it with magic of her own. Even with the relative anonymity of her town car, she would still be exposing herself were she to bring it forth. And there was no safe way to do anything about it outside of that space anyway.
The Eye of Africa was safe. It was secure. And Ruby Killingsworth would find a way to make it her own.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Getting into her building and up to her penthouse was as easy an exercise as Ruby had designed it to be. When she’d first met with the architect in the early stages of planning the Ruby Tower, she’d been very particular about how her private access was to be handled, but until today, she’d yet to fully test the system. This was the first time she’d brought the car into the city since relocating to her penthouse, and she had to say she was impressed. At least something had gone right today. She’d have to send Arsho a text thanking them for getting this stuff right. Her building manager, as infuriating as their meddling had been at times, was perhaps her most capable employee. This fact was proven out again when Ruby was able to pull into her private garage, park her car, and get into and out of the elevator without having to encounter another living soul.
Sure, Ruby loved publicity. She thrived on the occasional "accidental" brush with the paparazzi. She adored seeing her picture emblazoned on the front page of the Times or circulating the internet as the highlight of some viral tidbit or another. But as much as she enjoyed her fame, she valued her privacy more. What the public would never know was that those pictures--even those that looked as though they’d happened spontaneously or without her consent--were all a part of a carefully curated image. She only let herself be photographed when she wanted to be. And today, she had no patience for the public.
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