“Nobody?” I asked. “Have it your way. If you change your mind, and you want to bring a real challenge, you know where to find me. Until then, how about we all get back to the party? I hear the spread at the red table is really great, so definitely try some of…whatever that is.”
A couple of bouncers were closing in, bracing Grimm from the sides. He was already yesterday’s news. I’d given the partygoers something a lot more interesting to gossip about—his mysterious master, who might or might not exist—and they broke ranks to mingle and chat about it.
“This isn’t over,” Grimm told me.
“Get him out of here,” I said and turned my back on him.
Outside, I was a picture of callous cool. Inside, I was sweating. If I’d gotten him wrong—if he really was a deadly menace in a jester’s cap—I had just set myself up for a literal stab in the back. But people were still watching, casting discreet glances, and my act had to be picture perfect.
He didn’t say another word as they hustled him up the stairs and out the door.
*
After the final gift was added to the table, the open bar shut down, and the last few guests drifted off into the night, it was just me and Caitlin in the abandoned party room. Light from the neon piping shimmered off her dress, painting her in shades of black and gold. We split the last bottle of chardonnay between us, glasses half-empty as we unwrapped presents together.
“Some of these have been floating around for centuries.” She opened the lid of a small teak casket and nodded her approval. “A few of the guests were definitely trying to get on your good side. I’ll make a list for you.”
“Obliged.” I glanced to Emma’s gift, the diamond tie clip. “Okay, so all of these are basically cursed to kill their owners, right?”
“That’s the tradition, yes.”
I pointed to the clip. “So if I put this one on, what would it do to me?”
She gave me an impish smile. “The Curse of Xyl’kotis, if I remember correctly. It would cause your bowels to violently evacuate.”
“That sounds bad, but not deadly.”
“To evacuate everything inside your body. Including said bowels.”
I pushed the box a little farther away.
“I know you didn’t want this,” she told me.
“A tie clip that makes you poop yourself to death? Well, it’s not my ideal fashion statement…”
She gently swatted my arm. “No. This. The knighthood. Being drawn into my court. You’ve been putting on a game face, but I know you’re not happy.”
“It’s not…that I’m not happy,” I said. “It’s just a responsibility that got dropped on me out of nowhere, and…”
“And you’re not one of us. Daniel, it’s all right. I understand. You’ve been charged with defending a court you feel no allegiance to. That’s a burden.”
I reached for her. My fingertips trailed along the curve of her chin.
“Hey. It’s important to you. So I’m all in.”
“Do you know why, though? Do you understand why this is important to me?”
I had to shake my head. She took my hand in hers.
“When we first met, you welcomed me into your family. Your circle of friends, these people you trust more than anyone in the world…and you welcomed me in. No one had ever done that for me before.”
“At Margaritaville, as I recall.” I glanced over her shoulder, into the distance. “Strange things are often afoot at Margaritaville.”
She laughed and squeezed my hand. “Be serious. It meant a lot to me. And now…now it feels like you’re a part of my family, too. I know you don’t feel the same way, but…if you’ll try, maybe in time, you might?”
“I think I get it,” I told her.
My phone buzzed against my hip. Bentley calling.
“Hey,” I said, “it’s late. Everything okay?”
He sounded cagey, like he was holding something back. “Oh, certainly, everything is…everything is fine, fine indeed.”
“Okay. And you’re calling because…?”
“Oh! Yes. When you’re free, could you swing by the bookstore? It won’t take long. I just need…something.”
A bad feeling loomed over my shoulder. Maybe tonight’s encounters with Naavarasi and Hunter Grimm had me on edge, but this smelled fishier than last week’s catch.
“I’ll be there in twenty,” I told him.
26.
I killed my headlights a block before my final destination, coasting in slow and careful along a back-alley strip. I pulled in behind the Scrivener’s Nook and killed the engine, leaving the sedan’s door cracked when I got out; shutting it would make too much noise. Then I padded across the dirty asphalt, shoes rustling on loose gravel, to the back door of the shop.
I had my own set of keys. They jangled softly, one sliding into the reinforced lock, the tumbler thunking as it rolled over. Too loud. I put one hand on the door, silently counted to twenty, then pushed it open.
It yawned onto a darkened stockroom. I felt my playing cards pulse against my chest, ready for a fight, as I stepped inside. I shut the door behind me and bathed in pitch darkness. That improved my odds, if somebody was lurking in here, assuming they couldn’t see in the dark. I knew the layout of the back room by heart. I sidestepped to my right, figuring I’d follow the perimeter all the way around to the shop door. Then I held a breath and braced myself.
The lights flooded on and nearly a half dozen people shouted, “Surprise!”
Bentley, Corman, and Mama Margaux were in the middle of the room, flanking a folding table with a cake frosted in white and scarlet. Jennifer came in from the opposite door, toting two magnums of champagne, while Pixie popped a party noisemaker between her lips and blew a celebratory raspberry.
I had a half smile, half grimace pasted to my face, frozen while a burst of adrenaline rioted through my body. “What…what is this? It’s not my birthday yet.”
“Given recent events,” Bentley said, “we just thought it would be good to pause and celebrate everything we—especially you—have been through these last few months.”
Corman leaned back and jammed his thumbs in his pockets. “Lotta shit and gunfire. Sometimes you just have to take a few minutes and eat a slice of cake.”
“Also,” Margaux added, “we wanted to remind you what side you’re on.”
Bentley slashed his hand across his throat. “We weren’t going to say that—”
“What? Danny’s not stupid. He knows what this is.” She shot me a look. “I wanted to do an intervention. They said, bring cake and booze, he’ll be too distracted to figure it out.”
I had to laugh. I held up my hands in surrender.
“Guys. C’mon, it’s me. Same old Dan. I’m not plotting in cahoots with Prince Sitri to take over the planet.”
Margaux folded her arms. “Mm-hmm. Yet.”
“I’m pretty sure this entire knighthood thing is the setup for an epic practical joke. Once Sitri springs the gag—assuming I survive it—he’ll probably yank the job right out from under me.”
I played it off, but deep down I was as worried as they were. Not long after Caitlin and I hooked up, Prince Sitri had played another one of his games, forcing her to choose between me and her sworn duties. The entire mess, starting with his challenge for me to kill a supposedly innocent priest, was a giant setup. It was a labyrinthine scam that the prince had under his complete control from start to finish, and no matter what choices I made along the way, the outcome would have landed in his favor.
Sitri could give lessons in the art of the con. Only problem was, it was impossible to tell if I was his student or his mark. Knowing him, the answer was probably both.
Jennifer held up a knife. “Can we distract you with cake?”
“Absolutely not, and I’m offended that you would think so.” I nodded at the bottles. “You can distract me with cake and some of that bubbly.”
The cake was butter cream with chocolate filling. It was also labeled “Happy Birthday, Maurice.”
“Okay,” I said between bites, “who stole this cake?”
“Who says we stole it?” Corman asked.
“I’m just saying, whoever Maurice is, his birthday is ruined.”