After running through all the items in the bathroom, including checking the shampoo to see if it had a false bottom, I returned to the bedroom and sat on the end of the bed. I could play the seduction game again but I doubted he’d fall for it after walking in on Jamie and me. I wasn’t entirely sure I could stay in control in that kind of situation either. I needed to be sneakier.
I might have failed miserably at hiding out and spying on Byron at the Astor but if he really thought I was dead, he wouldn’t be expecting me here.
I sniffed my armpits. After my climb, I was definitely on the whiffy side. Not wanting my own smell to give me away, I grabbed his bottle of (surprisingly cheap) aftershave and daubed myself with it. I rather liked it. Maybe I’d keep it. Without thinking, I stuffed the bottle into one of my pockets. Then I smoothed down the sheets to remove all traces of my presence and scooted under the bed. I rather hoped he’d take his time returning. I could do with a little nap.
I was dozing off when the door slammed open. I just managed to stop myself from banging my head painfully as I jerked up. Close call.
‘Fuck!’ There was another bang. It was definitely Byron. He thumped something else. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’
Was he upset because he’d realised there wasn’t a body – charred or otherwise – inside the grove and I’d escaped? Or was he upset because he thought I was dead and he now had no way of restoring the Foinse?
I watched his feet stomp about, up one way and down another, over and over again. Considering the size of the room, I thought he’d get dizzy after a few turns but he just kept stomping and turning.
Eventually – and scant seconds before I thought I was going to go insane from watching his feet – there was a hesitant knock on the door. Byron flung it open with such force that it banged against the wall. If the castle hadn’t been made of stone, the ensuing vibrations would have been felt floors below.
‘What?’ he snapped.
I twisted my head, peering at the new set of shoes which had appeared. I was still trying to work out who they belonged to when the nervous cough enlightened me.
‘The Steward asked me to inform you…’
‘Of what?’ There was a strained urgency to Byron’s voice.
Jamie dropped the formality. I was glad. Regardless of what else was going on here, it didn’t seem fair for him to lose one of his friends just because of a quick shag based on post-traumatic desire. ‘Byron,’ he said, ‘she’s not there. Integrity’s not in the grove.’
Shite. I needed to see the expression on Byron’s face to be able tell whether he was pleased at this news or not.
After what seemed like an eternity, he finally spoke. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes. She must have got out another way. She’s not in her room – we’ve already checked. I mean,’ Jamie backtracked, ‘Brody checked. Not me. I didn’t go inside. I…’
‘It’s fine, Jamie. But if she’s not in her room then where the fuck is she? Whoever did this might have hold of her. I should have taken that story about the worm more seriously.’ He thumped something again as overwhelming, unmitigated relief flooded through me. It hadn’t been him after all. ‘Fuck! I told her!’
‘Uh, told her what?’
He groaned. ‘That my second gift is pyrokinesis. No wonder she’s run.’
‘I’m sure she wouldn’t think that you had done all that though.’
Oh, you’d be surprised, Jamie.
Byron sighed. ‘Why would she trust me? I blackmailed her into coming here. I escorted her to the grove where someone threw fire at her. What if she’s hurt? If she’s hiding somewhere we might not find her in time.’ His voice was growing in both sound and desperation. That was nice. I could feel myself relaxing.
‘The Foinse isn’t dead yet,’ Jamie answered, obviously doing his best to be reassuring. ‘It could be months before all the magic leaks out. We’ll find her in time.’
I rolled my eyes. Of course. It wasn’t my life that was important; it was making sure the Foinse survived another thousand years that was the issue. I didn’t know why that stung. I didn’t want the magic to fail or gazillions of people to die. Even if someone else apparently did.
‘We’d better,’ came the growly rejoinder. I shivered. I was glad that Byron wasn’t the evil mastermind I’d suspected but I was still disturbed that he had such an effect on me. A husky rasp like that made me think of our encounter in his hotel room, with him underneath my legs, pinned so that I could… I mentally slapped myself. Enough of that.
Jamie coughed. ‘There is something else.’
Silence stretched out. I didn’t think it was possible for the nervous tension to ratchet up any further but I was wrong; I could virtually feel the air crackle. I was half tempted to leap out and grab Jamie by his lapels, shove my nails into his cute little dimples and demand that he get on with it.
‘Go on,’ Byron said grimly.
Yes, Jamie, get on with it.
‘The police were forced to let her two partners in crime go.’
Byron hissed. ‘We knew that was going to happen sooner or later.’