The Wicked

Dessert was as delicious as the main meal had been, the chocolate mousse light, intensely rich and melting against her tongue, topped with a dollop of freshly whipped cream. The dark sweetness of the mousse was complemented perfectly by the bold taste of the French roast coffee.

After polishing off his steak and fish, Sebastian had chosen the cheese plate for dessert, not the sweet, and as she watched him eat out of the corner of her eye, she felt pretty certain that he was some kind of predator Wyr.

He never removed his sunglasses, not even to eat. She wondered why. He didn’t exactly have a warm and approachable personality. Was it to keep a barrier between himself and others?

The atmosphere in the cabin had lightened with the wine and the excellent meal, and voices rose companionably. She smiled to herself as she listened. Their temporary employer had chosen a wise way to break the ice. The only person who had not appreciated lunch was Phaedra. When Olivia checked on the Djinn, she saw that Phaedra had slipped on a set of headphones and sat with her eyes closed.

Sebastian stood as soon as the attendant had cleared away their empty dessert dishes. He said without preamble, “Here are the next steps. The rest of my security team has already assembled in San Francisco. They have been collecting all the supplies and equipment that we will need, and they will remain on watch on the yacht while we cross over.”

“With time slippage, that could be a long spell for them,” Dendera said.

“They’ll follow a rotation for shore leave, and the yacht will dock periodically for fuel and supplies,” Sebastian replied. “Meanwhile Phaedra will guard the crossover passageway itself. When we land, we will go directly to the yacht and spend the night on board. First thing in the morning we will make our first crossing. Because only eight of us are allowed to cross over, we’ll have to make the trip several times with supplies. The same thing will be true when we transport the contents of the library.”

The library would be transported in custom-designed, hermetically sealed containers. Sebastian passed around photos. Olivia studied them curiously when the Light Fae woman, Bailey, handed them to her. She couldn’t imagine what the cost of the expedition was, with the legal battle, the highly specialized team, the security, the yacht, supplies and equipment, including wet suits and diving gear, and now these containers, but the running total had to be in the millions. Carling really wanted her property back, which did not surprise Olivia in the slightest, since the library itself had to be priceless.

After the question and answer session, Dendera stood and said to Olivia and Steve, “Let’s meet at the empty table in the back. I’ll be with you in just a few minutes.”

Sebastian had sat down again. He didn’t look up or otherwise acknowledge that Olivia left the table. Feeling oddly let down, she shrugged it off and moved to the back of the plane where Steve had already slid into a seat. She chose the one across the table from him. Dendera had disappeared in the direction of the lavatory, so at the moment she and Steve sat alone.

The other symbologist was tall, around six feet or so, with a lanky build and large, long-fingered hands. Trying to guess a Wyr’s age without any knowledge of his animal form was an exercise in futility, but if Steve were a human male, she would have pegged him in his late thirties. His dark hair had receded somewhat from a high forehead, and he wore a speculative expression on his thin, rather bony face as he considered her.

How did your first meeting with his lordship go? Steve asked her telepathically. Did he give you the same ‘my way or the highway’ speech that he gave the Djinn?

Taken aback, Olivia said the first thing that popped into her head. His lordship?

You know what they say about short men and Napoleonic complexes, Steve told her. He glanced toward the head of the plane, his eyes filled with a sharp gleam and his expression cynical.

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