“Let’s give him your bottle.”
Judging by Imari’s shocked expression, Lucien needed to talk faster. “I don’t mean your bottle exactly. Just a very close replica of it.”
That calmed her considerably. “Oh.”
“Does he know what your bottle looks like?”
“I don’t really know the answer to that. It’s possible. All genie bottles have a similar look. Fancy glass, lots of jewels and metal work. But they’re also unique to each genie. Like a snowflake. Or a fingerprint.”
“Then we need the replica to be as close as it can be.”
She pushed the eggs on her plate around with her fork. “What you’re suggesting might have some merit, but re-creating a bottle like that isn’t going to be easy. And if you really want to re-create it, it’s also going to be very expensive. And I don’t have the kind of funds that allow for a craft project made of diamonds and sapphires and gold.”
“I do and—”
“I don’t want to be in your debt. More than I already am, that is. So I’m very appreciative of this offer, but I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“Imari, please,” Hattie said. “Lucien can afford this. And—”
“But how is it really going to help?” Imari asked. “Once the wish merchant figures out the bottle isn’t mine because he can’t command me just by owning it, he’ll be back on my trail. It’s just an obstacle the wish merchant will easily overcome, not a solution to getting him out of my life. If anything, it will most likely just anger him.”
Lucien cleared his throat and held fast to his patience. Imari was upset, and understandably so. “I was going to say that we’d use the bottle as a decoy in a sting operation. Attempted kidnapping might fly in other parts of the supernatural world, but absolutely not in Nocturne Falls. The man will be apprehended and punished.”
Imari seemed to think that over. “But he’s human. Supernatural law doesn’t apply to humans.”
“He’s trafficking in supernaturals. He’s made himself a special case. And the Ellinghams not only agree, but they’re willing to prosecute accordingly. We’ve already discussed it. Not to mention there’s the added bonus that the genie he’s already holding hostage will be set free. Don’t you think she’d testify against him?”
“I’m sure she would.” Imari stared at her breakfast plate. “But this still means I’d be in debt to you.”
He lifted one shoulder. The money was nothing to him, but clearly, she didn’t share that feeling. “Then we’ll have the bottle dismantled and the materials resold. Would that make you feel better?”
“Yes. You won’t get all your money back, though.”
He stared at her. “But you’ll be safe. So will countless others of your kind. That seems a very good reason for me to absorb a small monetary loss.”
She smiled a little, lightening his mood. “Yes, it does. You are so kind. But how do I thank you for this?”
“You don’t need to thank me with anything more than words. It hasn’t been often in my life that I’ve been able to help. Please. Let me.”
“That’s all you want from me? A thank you?”
Her friendship would be nice, but he was not so pathetic as to ask her for that. “Yes. That’s all.”
“Okay.” She breathed out, like she was releasing a great burden. “I will. Thank you. Although that is not enough by half.”
“Excellent,” Hattie said.
They all went back to eating, but Lucien almost laughed as he dug into his eggs. Hattie was buoyant with happiness over this, he could tell. From her smile to the sparkle in her eyes, she was beyond delighted. That alone made whatever expense he might incur in this undertaking equally as worthwhile as freeing Imari. Today was a good day. Better, certainly, than it had started out when he’d faced down the Ellinghams to ask for a favor.
Before this, the only favor he’d asked for was to be left alone. To be allowed to live as anonymously as possible.
Now he’d been on their doorstep, asking for help for a woman. Astonishing how things had changed in such a short period of time.
“How is this going to work?” Imari asked. “I assume you’ll have Willa create the bottle?”
“Willa?” Lucien cursed his solitary life. No doubt Willa was someone he should know if she was capable of reproducing a bottle like Imari’s.
“She’s the best jeweler in town. And she’s fae, so her work isn’t just beautiful, but magical as well. When the piece demands it. She’s a friend of mine and a wonderful person.” Imari looked at Hattie. “You must know her.”
“I know of her,” Hattie answered. “I bought Birdie a pair of earrings at Willa’s shop for her birthday. Her designs are beautiful. I have no doubt she could re-create your bottle. Although I haven’t seen your bottle.”
“It’s elaborate,” Imari offered. She looked at Lucien. “I hope pictures will be enough. I don’t want to take the bottle out in public.”
“Nor should you.” Lucien thought about it. Perhaps photos wouldn’t be enough to convey the beauty of the bottle.
“I know,” Hattie said. “Let’s invite Willa over here.”
“No,” he snapped. Then it was his turn to take a breath. He lowered his voice and softened his tone. “Hattie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Well, Imari can’t exactly make a big appearance at Willa’s. The wish merchant knows what she looks like.”
“But he doesn’t know she’s here. Or that she’d be going to see Willa.” He hesitated. “Where is her shop?”
“On Main Street,” Hattie answered.
“Illusions,” Imari elaborated.
He thought a moment about the part of the town he did know. Then he spoke again, mostly to Imari. “If I can arrange safe passage to this shop, will you go? With your bottle?”
“Safe passage?” She looked skeptical.
“I assure you, it’s possible.”
The doubt in her eyes didn’t fade. “I’ll consider it.”
“Good.” He pushed his chair back. “If you’ll excuse me, I have more work to do.”
Imari spent part of the day with Hattie. They watched a movie in the rec room’s theater, then had lunch, after which Hattie had to go out grocery shopping for the ingredients for dinner, so Imari found herself in the library.
Not being at work gave her a sense of playing hooky, and what a room the library was to play hooky in. It was a gorgeous space with tall ceilings and two rolling ladders to access the books higher up. The windows were video screens, just like they were in the rest of the house, but the art mixed in among the books was what really drew Imari’s gaze.
Several standing glass cases around the room held first editions: Shakespeare’s Othello, Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, and two of Dickens’, Bleak House and Great Expectations.
Another display case hung on the wall and showed off three small Egyptian faience figurines and an enormous scarab made of the same blue-green glazed pottery. There was a Rembrandt in a niche. And the chandelier overhead looked like it had been made by Chihuly, the famous glass artist, which, undoubtedly, it had been.
Lucien’s taste in the finer things was as impressive as it was eclectic. It made her curious to know more about him, but she got the sense it wasn’t going to be easy to get him to reveal himself to her.
In the back corner of the library, there was a particularly comfortable-looking chair. Beside it was a wooden magazine rack. Much to Imari’s surprise and delight, the rack’s bars hung heavy with gossip rags and entertainment magazines. They were the last sort of reading material she expected to find in this room, but then she realized she was once again seeing Hattie’s influence.
She smiled as she settled into the chair and began to devour them, feeling like a child let loose in a sweet shop.
“Enjoying yourself?”
She looked up. Lucien was in the doorway. At some point during the day, he’d changed from his suit to a simple black sweater and gray twill pants. It was the mo
st dressed down she’d seen him. It was a very good look.
So good she forgot what he’d asked her. “What?”
“I asked if you were enjoying yourself.”
She unhooked her legs from over the arm of the chair and straightened up. “Yes. I have to confess, Hattie and I share the same taste in trashy magazines.” She closed the one on her lap, smiling a little self-consciously.
He smiled back. “Those are mine. Hattie reads them, but she prefers cooking and decorating magazines.”
“Now you’re teasing me.”
“I’m not, I promise.”
Well, that was a revelation. If it was true. “So who’s your favorite Kardashian?”
He grimaced. “None of them.”
“Good answer.” She laughed. He’d passed the test. “Your library is amazing, by the way.”
“Thank you. It’s one of my favorite places.”
“I can see why.”
He stuck his hands in his pockets. “I hate to cut short your time here, but can you be ready to meet Willa in half an hour?”
“Sure.” She got up, tucking the magazine back onto its spot on the rack. “Are you positive it’s going to be safe?”
“Yes.”
She bit her lip.
“You don’t believe me.”
“It’s not that, it’s just…I’m scared.” There. She’d said it.
A warmth filled his gaze. “I will not let harm come to you, Imari.”
It sounded like an oath. And she believed him. She nodded. “Okay. I guess I’m ready now. I don’t really have anything to change into. I didn’t pack very well. And I only thought I’d be here overnight.”
“Not to worry. Hattie picked some things up for you while she was out. They’re in your room. But you don’t have to change if you don’t want to.”
“I’ll go have a look.”
“Very good. Meet me in the living room when you’re ready.”
She twisted her hands together. “Bring the bottle, right?”
“Yes. I promise, it will also be safe.” With a nod, he turned and walked away.
She followed after him, turning the lights off behind her, but when she walked into the hall, he was already gone.
In the guest room, laid out on the bed, she found stacks of new clothing. Jeans, dress pants, yoga pants, and leggings. In another pile were sweaters, T-shirts, casual tops, and blouses. In the third were underthings, a nightgown, some workout wear, and several swimsuits.
There were five shoe boxes as well. Sneakers, sandals, short boots, and two pairs of flats.
All designer brands. All very high end. And all her size. How was that possible?
She chose jeans, a light sweater in a beautiful cobalt blue, and the short boots. The outfit was chic and gorgeous. Hattie was an incredible personal shopper.
Imari wrapped the bottle in a towel and secured it in her weekend bag, then went out to meet Lucien.
He nodded when he saw her. “I take it the clothes are to your liking?”
“It’s an impressive bunch of stuff. All of it lovely and all of it things I would wear.”
“That should hold you for a few days, then. Are you ready to go?”
“Ready.”
“Follow me.”
He led her toward his study, but they passed that, and based on her investigations last night, she realized they were going toward the small foyer that she’d assumed held the doors into his and Hattie’s bedroom suites.
She was right about the direction, but when they reached the foyer, they turned toward the hall that ended with the industrial metal door.
They went through it into another small foyer, this one painted black with black carpet underfoot. The faint, thumping bass of music vibrated through the space. When he shut the door behind them, total darkness took over for a split second.
“I apologize for the lack of light, but your eyes should adjust in a moment.”
“They already have.”
A set of steps led up. They ascended and entered another hallway. One side held shiny black panels.
She moved toward the first panel. It was a window. But the longer she looked through, the more she understood exactly what she was seeing. And why the thump of music made sense.
Insomnia.
And the window was actually one of the many mirrors lining the walls of the nightclub.
Lucien hadn’t wanted to bring Imari through here, but it was the only way to get to the elevator that would take them to the Basement without going out through the garage or the main entrance, which led out through what appeared to be an ordinary side door of the warehouse. “We should go. Willa is waiting.”
Imari’s eyes stayed on the scene inside the club.
Lucien looked in. There wasn’t as much going on as there would be later tonight, but there was a small crowd dancing and a decent handful at the bar.
“What is this?” she asked. “I mean, I know that’s Insomnia. But what is this room we’re in? Why are these two-way mirrors here?”
He went with the first thing that wasn’t a lie. “Security purposes.”
She glanced over her shoulder, and her expression implied she might not be buying that.
“We should go,” he repeated. He wasn’t going to delve deeper and explain that sometimes, watching the crowd through these windows was the only connection to humanity he had.
Thankfully, she let it be. “Lead on.”
With long strides, he got them to the elevator, swiped his keycard through the reader, then tucked it away and waited for the lift to arrive. The doors opened a few seconds later.
He held his hand toward the car’s interior. “After you.”
He followed her in and pressed the button for the Basement. The doors slid shut, then opened again seconds later when they arrived. “Here we are.”
She approached the doors and looked out. “Where?”
“The Basement.”
“Of Insomnia?”
“No, the Basement of Nocturne Falls.”
She stepped out, allowing him to do the same. “The town has a basement?”
“It’s an operational area. And Basement is capitalized.” He tried to see the wide, bright halls through her eyes. This wasn’t a place most in town knew about, but as one of the Basements’ financiers, he didn’t need permission to introduce anyone to it. Anyone supernatural, that was. “Remember when the town lost power a few months back due to that incredible winter storm?”
“Yes, that wasn’t fun, but at least the power wasn’t out for too long. The Excelsior only went about eight hours before it was restored.”
“No doubt Julian’s residence there had some pull, but the banks of generators needed to run the rest of the town are down here. Among other things.”
“That’s really interesting. I had no idea.”
“Most people don’t.”
She studied him for a moment. “Why do you live under Insomnia? Your sound-proofing is great, by the way. You can’t hear the music at all in the house. But it’s an interesting choice, to say the least.”
He ran through a hundred different answers, finally settling on the truth. “It’s close to the heart of town, but not too close, so it’s convenient for Hattie. And the club also creates enough traffic that any of our comings and goings don’t stand out.”
“Do you own the building?”
“Yes.” He wasn’t sure where all the questions were going, but he felt oddly indulgent.
“I guess the rent from Insomnia pays for gas, huh?”
“There is no rent from Insomnia. I own that as well.”
“Really?” She glanced back at the elevator. “I don’t know why that didn’t occur to me, but it makes sense considering the kind of businessman you seem to be. No wonder you got treated the way you did that first night in the VIP section.” She squinted at him. “I have to say, you don’t seem like a nightclub kind of guy, though.”
“I’m not. Not really. But it serves my purpose
s.” He checked his watch.
“I know, we need to go. I take it we’re using the Basement to get there?”
“Yes. It’s the safest way for us to travel. There’s an access right behind Illusions, so we can be in and out the back door without being seen.”
“Kind of a long walk from here.” She glanced down at her short boots. “I should have chosen flats.”
“No need.” He walked over to a rollup door, pushed a button to lift it, and revealed his sleek black club car. “We’re taking this.”
“A golf cart? Cool.”
“Club car. Golf carts are a little more…delicate.”
She was smirking. “Right. This one has knobby tires. Much more manly.”
He ignored her sarcasm as he climbed in. He unhooked the charging cable, tossing it aside.
She got in next to him, still smirking. Maybe she was laughing at him, but he didn’t care. He enjoyed amusing her. It meant she wasn’t thinking so much about the wish merchant. She hooked one hand through the grip near the roof while the other held fast to the bag with the bottle in it. “Ready when you are.”
He pushed the start button, pulled out of the small garage, and off they went.
She was quiet for a moment, mostly looking around and reading the directional signs as they went past. “Is this Basement under the whole town?”
“Not all of it, but a good deal.”
She didn’t ask for specifics, seemingly content to ride and take it all in. Or maybe she was temporarily out of questions.
When they got closer to Main Street, the central passageway branched off into a few smaller corridors. They passed one of the gargoyle shifters coming out of the fountain room, and Lucien expected more questions then, but Imari just waved back.
Another block in, he pulled the car over and parked. “We’re here.”
“That was fast.”
“Having no traffic or lights to contend with helps.” He turned the vehicle off and applied the brake before getting out. He gestured toward the stairwell behind him. “We’re going that way.”
“Right behind you.” She got out of the car and followed him up the steps to the street level and the small landing there.
The Reaper Rescues The Genie Page 9