Syd sleeps next to me until late morning. I want to spend the day lazing around together, but I can't rely on not being summoned again soon. Karl is up to something.
I used to think spending months at a time waiting for a wish was short of maddening. Now I know it was better than the alternative. These back-to-back tasks are exhausting.
And they're interfering. I never let women back for round two because my life is not conducive to relationships of any kind. But I think Syd and I could have found a balance the way my life was up until a week ago. Or maybe I just want the opportunity to give it a chance.
Now everything has changed, and I have no idea why. Something to do with that donation. It has to be. If I could find out why he dropped one and a half million dollars on a hospital charity, then I could probably figure out the motive behind all of his wishes lately.
The real question is: Do I want to know? Karl is not a nice man, and I'm a firm believer that ignorance is bliss.
Silvia seems pretty damn happy, for example.
Syd lingers a while, kissing my chest and snuggling against my shoulder. I don't have it in me to kick her out of the house, but I can't really enjoy the moment either. I want to lay out the whole situation for her, but the thought alone sends a figurative dagger of disobedience into my skull.
I'm afraid to push the thought, because words said can never be unspoken. I have no idea what happens if I break a wish that can't be undone.
I have zero interest in finding out.
“You seem preoccupied,” Syd says, her hands planted on either side of me as I lie facing up on the bed.
“Yeah, sorry.” I raise up, and she sits back on her heels.
I really am a jerk of a boyfriend.
She presses a kiss onto my lips and then climbs out of bed. “I should get home, anyway. Text me later?”
I prop up on my elbows and take in the length of her naked body. No other guys are allowed to do what I did to her last night. She's my own private rockstar.
“I'll text only if you send me pics.”
She bends down for her clothes and starts dressing. “Sure. How about a butterfly?”
“If that's what the kids are calling it these days.”
She grins as she pulls on the last of her clothes, then nudges my foot. “See ya later, captain.”
She blows me a kiss over her shoulder and leaves.
Syd is all mine. I don't know where this bus will wind up, but I've already strapped in. I'm going to ride it out to the end.
Chapter 5
A manila envelope is already in my hands before my sight clears. I have been called to Ye Ol' Summoning Chamber. The scent of argan oil will never have a positive association to me.
“There is a box of books in that facility,” Karl says, leaning forward in his throne. “Bring it to me, then reduce the building to ash.”
My brain takes a minute to catch up.
Ash.
“Arson?” I stare at him dumbly.
This is new.
“You're lucky we found the contents of the safe, Dimitri. Don't mess this one up.”
It takes an incredible amount of willpower not to point out that his intel screwed up, not me. Doesn't matter. All Karl cares about is the end result.
“Bring me the books and burn the facility,” he says. “And, Dimitri, the books are not for your perusal. This … I … wish.”
Let the humming commence.
I turn on my heels and head for the door leading to the foyer. The summoning chamber gives me the creeps, and I have an arson to plan.
The envelope contains several sheets of information—descriptions, addresses, schedules—but no pictures. Nothing that will make this task easy.
Of course.
I flip back to the address: it's an anthropology center in San Diego, California.
Looks like I'm in for another road trip. I was hoping for some local crime, but Karl is circling wide. Something definitely has him in a tizzy, but I have no idea what an anthropology center has to do with a hospital.
I would ask the accountant what the donation check was made out for, but I don't like speaking with him. Not since that day when I demanded first class flights. When he had replied that Karl controlled every dealing with me, his expression had been … disquieting.
He seemed confused. Maybe afraid.
It occurred to me then that the mansion staff doesn't know who or what I am. They see me come and go, but my vehicles are never in the place they should be. They see the guards carrying off my prisoners. They see me leave from a room no one else but the family and the guards are allowed to enter.
Some of the staff worked here when my father was employed by Karl. Then one day he disappeared. No doubt they have stories. I wonder what their stories are, and if they're worse than the truth.
Even if the staff didn't regard me as an apparition, I wouldn't approach them anyway. They all work for Karl, not me. And if Karl wanted me to know what's going on, he would have told me himself.
I shouldn't be snooping, but I have a stake in this: my life. It might not be much of one, but I would prefer if it didn't end with any unnecessary drawn out agony.