“That’s it? You just want me to book a room?”
“Well, and if you could, pick me up at the St. Augustine airport. Vince is letting me take the private jet back, and we land about four. I hate to ask you, really, but Vince has me so busy, I’m writing new material all the time. Vince’s wife told me to hire a personal assistant, but how am I supposed to find someone fast who wants to work for a vampire? Never mind one who understands my sleep schedule.”
Bells went off in my head: Donita.
“Princess Ci? You there?”
Okay, so now was not the time to bring up my scathingly brilliant idea, but I’d tell him soon. After I talked to Donita, if Jo-Jo didn’t tumble to the idea himself.
“I’m here, and I’ll make the reservation. And, Jo-Jo, break a leg on Leno.”
Saber snapped the phone shut, crossed his arms, and gave me his stern look.
“Don’t you think it’s a lot too soon to mention Donita to Jo-Jo?”
“You read my mind?”
“Your expression, and I don’t want you to call Jo-Jo back.”
“Come on, it’s a perfect solution. He needs help, she wants a big change, and she can do the job. Win-win.”
“Humph. Isn’t August thirteenth your anniversary?”
He was right. It would be a whole year since Maggie unearthed me and set me free.
“It is, and the thirteenth is in two days.”
“Did you have plans to celebrate?”
“Not unless I celebrate with you.”
“Hell, yeah, we’re gonna celebrate. We’ll TiVo Jo-Jo.” He cupped the back of my head with his right hand and brushed his lips over mine.
“Now what were you going to do with my bod?”
NINETEEN
024
Triton came to me in a dream.
I stood at his mind door, deciding whether to knock. The door cracked to show a thin, glowing line, then blew wide open. I was sucked into a blinding light, falling through space and splashing into an azure sea awash in foam. Triton flashed the wide smile I knew from his boyhood. “Remember this?”
I wiped water from my eyes and found us bobbing in the water beyond the breakers as if we were body surfing, waiting for a wave. Then he took my hand and dragged me to the ocean floor where a treasure chest was wedged into a coral bed.
“Open it,” he mouthed.
I did, but it was empty.
“Look deeper.”
I caught the top and side of the rough box and leaned inside. A tiny golden dot suddenly appeared where there had been only a void. As if in slow motion, the dot floated higher.
“Catch it,” he commanded, but when I reached in, my hand plunged into a cold, oily mass that crawled over my skin. When I opened my mouth to cry out to Triton, the black ooze dove into my mouth and down my throat, thickening until I couldn’t breathe.
I jerked awake to find my face buried in the pillow. Duh. No wonder I was smothering. It was a dream, just a dream. Still, it was almost dawn before my heartbeat slowed to its normal rate, and I dared to shut my eyes.
Tuesday afternoon, I awoke almost an hour earlier than usual, and with a bad-dream hangover. Or maybe it was a slept-beforedaylight, broke-my-routine hangover, but I’d been exhausted. From Ike’s murder to learning of Saber’s past, the emotions of the last day and a half had me feeling like I’d Hoover-sucked my own aura.
The sound of keyboard keys periodically clacking got me moving. Poor Saber, typing one-handed. I brushed my teeth, wondering how good his healing powers were and if the cast was already for show more than stabilizing the broken wrist. But since only a handful of people must have known about his rapid healing, he had to leave the cast on for now. By the time I’d washed my face and scraped my hair into a ponytail with the stretched out scrunchie I’d been using for two days, I felt better. And worse. I needed a new scrunchie, not to mention a change of clothes. The jeans and top I’d worn for two days were ripe, and I don’t even sweat. And, damn. I was supposed to be watching Maggie’s doorstep for cabinet hardware on back order, and watering her plants.
I stopped in the office doorway, intending to tell Saber I needed to make a run home. He looked up and grinned.
“Hey, good news. I got a coded e-mail from Candy, and she’s got a team together.”
“That’s great. When are they hitting Vlad?”
“Maybe tonight, but probably not until Thursday. They’re planning strategy while they unravel some red tape.”
“Are you still bummed about not being there?”
He shrugged. “Not much. I got a call from Jackie, my Realtor. She wants to show the condo tonight and several times every day this week. Think you can help me speed shop for all that stuff she wants me to get?”
The Triton-dream hangover vanished. I had a mission, and I could pick up a change of clothes while we were shopping. In the next two hours we hit Tuesday Morning in Ormond Beach, a Target, and a Wal-Mart. I’d decided against buying clothes since we were on a tight deadline, but I did check off all the items on the staging list.