“Thanks,” said Odette, walking hurriedly into what might have been the nicest locker room she had ever been in. A thick red carpet covered the floor, leather couches lined the walls, and the lockers themselves were made of dark wood. She felt a trifle gauche to be trailing oil across the carpets and scurried to the showers. When she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, she flinched.
Oh, marvelous, she thought grimly. I look like a whale sneezed on me.
To her immense relief, the stuff washed off easily — far more easily than the slime she’d been sleeping in. Under the hot water, her muscles relaxed, sliding back into their normal positions. She took the opportunity to have a private little cry, and then, once she was dressed in a nondescript gray tracksuit, she spent a laborious few minutes staring in a mirror and draining the redness from her eyes. She crammed her greasy suit into a plastic bag she’d liberated from a rubbish bin and wiped the better part of the oil off her shoes with handfuls of wadded-up toilet paper.
As she walked out of the bathroom in her sweat suit and high heels clutching her bag of clothes, Odette was secretly hoping that the Rook had left. That way, she could slink through the hallways, avoiding everyone, catch a cab to the hotel, and go straight to bed without having to talk or think about anything that had happened.
However, in keeping with the tone of the day, Rook Thomas had failed to leave and was leaning against the wall. She had stepped out of her heels and, as a result, was a good deal shorter. She was squinting at her phone and tapping away at it.
“What a fucking day,” said Thomas. She sighed and tucked the phone away in a pocket. “Miss Leliefeld, I am aghast at Pawn Korybut’s actions. His behavior was inexcusable, especially toward a guest and most especially toward a diplomat. On behalf of the people and the Crown of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, please accept my formal apology.” Odette blinked. The ritualistic language was somewhat at odds with the stockinged feet.
“Of course I accept,” said Odette.
“I realize we must tell Graaf Ernst,” Thomas said.
“Yes, I have to,” said Odette.
“I don’t know how he’ll take it,” said Thomas, “but the last thing we need in secret negotiations between secret organizations is more secret secrets. I’ll come with you when you tell him, and I’ll apologize to him as well.” Odette raised her eyebrows a little at the woman’s assumption that she would decide what would happen but found herself nodding in agreement. The Rook had that kind of authority.
“I saw how much that man loathed me,” said Odette. “He loathed the idea of me. And it’s not just him. People have been giving us poisonous looks since we arrived.”
“They’ve been brought up to hate the memory of the Grafters,” said Rook Thomas mildly. “I can’t expect them to stop overnight.”
“You were brought up to hate the memory of the Grafters,” said Odette. “And you seem all right.”
Thomas gave an odd little smile. “They’ll come around,” she said. “Now, let’s go talk with your ancestor, and then I’ll see about getting your bodyguard brought into service immediately.”
Oh, good, thought Odette glumly. I feel safer already.
*1 Some thoughtful soul had added a footnote explaining that a hoogleraar was a professor.
16
That evening, Felicity knocked on Odette’s hotel-room door. It opened and a short youth whom Felicity recognized as the brother looked up at her.
“Hello, I’m Felicity.”
“Hi,” he said. They stared at each other warily for a while. “So, I, um, I ordered a hamburger?” he said finally.
“I’m not room service,” said Felicity curtly, somewhat irritated by the way his gaze had paused on her breasts. “I’m looking for Odette Leliefeld.”
“Why?” he asked suspiciously.
“I’m her new roommate.” This revelation appeared to lie completely beyond his comprehension because he continued to stare at her. But at least he was staring at her face. She sighed heavily. “Is she here?”
“Odette!” he called, turning slightly but not taking his eyes off her. The girl Grafter appeared and looked over his head, her eyes widening in surprise.
“You’re Felicity Clements.” She did not sound delighted to have the Pawn on her doorstep. In fact, she sounded as far from delighted as it was possible to be without having a chain saw at one’s throat or genitals.
“I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Leliefeld.”
Odette pushed her brother to the side, and they shook hands gingerly. Odette tried not to imagine Felicity’s powers seeping into her skin and reading her history, while Felicity tried not to brace herself to get stabbed by those spurs. Both women let go gratefully and discreetly wiped their hands on their legs.
“She says that she’s the new roommate,” said Alessio.
“I think you misunderstood,” said Odette. “She’s actually my new...” She trailed off as she searched for an appropriate word, eventually settling for “bewaarder.”
“What happened to Bannister?” asked the boy. “Did he fulfill his life’s dream and climb up his own asshole?”
Odette winced and cast an apologetic look at Felicity. “Alessio, please try not to be disrespectful about our hosts.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Felicity said. “I know Oliver Bannister. The greatest tragedy of his life is that he went to the world’s most exclusive school and he can’t tell everyone about it. He’s a complete twat,” she assured them. She noticed the boy mouthing her words, filing them away for later use. Marvelous, I’m such a good ambassador for our culture. “Anyway, in addition to being your new bodyguard, I’m also your new roommate.”
“You’re what?” said Odette.
“I’ll be staying with you.”
“You can’t be serious!” The words were out before she could think about them, and she flushed at her own rudeness. The Pawn’s eyes narrowed a little, and she spoke before Odette could apologize.
“Quite serious,” said Felicity. “The Checquy rooms in this hotel are all full, but I understand there’s a spare bedroom in this ridiculously large suite they’ve given you.”
“There isn’t,” said Odette. I don’t care if I’m being rude, I don’t want this killer staying with us. Bad enough that she’ll be following me around all day.
“Well, we kind of have a spare bedroom,” said Alessio, who, now that they’d established Felicity wasn’t there to kill them or deliver a hamburger, seemed quite intrigued by the development. Odette gave him an evil look.
“That doesn’t sound good,” said Felicity. “Wait — we?”
“Yeah, Odette and I share this suite.”
“That sounds even worse. So, may I come in?” They drew back to let her in, and she picked up the backpack she’d brought, stepped inside, and took in the room. “Crikey,” she said without thinking. “This place is bigger than my whole house.” And who is footing the bill for this? The British taxpayers?
“You’re getting a bodyguard?” Alessio asked Odette. “Why? Is this related to the fact that at the end of every day, you’re wearing a different outfit than the one you started in?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Odette. “I haven’t been doing that.”
“Yes, you have,” said Alessio. Odette tried not to think of the two suits that she had wadded up and hidden in her luggage. One was stained with the blood from that injured Pawn and the other covered with that horrible orange oil that had congealed all over her. I should just buy new suits, she thought grimly. I’m down to three that aren’t stained with unacceptable fluids.
“I’ve been assigned to protect your sister because she’s managed to alienate the entire organization,” said Clements. “There are concerns that if she’s left unattended, she may be subject to harassment or violence.” The two Grafters looked at her in shock.
Damn it! thought Felicity. This is why I should not be working in any sort of diplomatic role.
“But you don’t need to worry,” she said in an effort to be reassuring. “I will make sure that no one kills you. Or, if they do, that they’ll regret it.” Judging from their still-dropped jaws, this guarantee did not allay their concerns.
“So, don’t I need a bodyguard?” asked Alessio, which both women understood to mean Why don’t I get a hot woman to follow me around?