“I know,” she said. “Plus, Mac’s there and all the other men. It’s only . . . Did you see his face? He barely got to see Tesla, much less speak to the man. I know he must be so disappointed.”
That was the plan, of course. While we watched Tesla’s back, Jonathan would convince him of the danger of ever constructing another device. And with Peters and his security force protecting the lab’s perimeter, Mac and Doug’s mission was to locate and destroy the already built enhancement, making sure it wouldn’t survive the fateful fire.
For Doug it would be as dreadful and agonizing as drowning puppies in a river.
She was watching her brother as he moved into bodyguard position behind Tesla. “And it’s not just that. Collum’s right. Think what we might do with the enhancement, if we could bring it back with us.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I really thought Aunt Lucinda would change her mind about that.”
“Collum and Doug went to her before we left, you know.” Phoebe’s wide, mobile mouth turned down, the frown unnatural on her normally cheery face. “Tried one last time to persuade her. Apparently, she refused to even discuss it. I’d never seen Coll look so downcast.”
“I know,” I said. “Well, do you think Doug might, um—?”
She shook her head. “No. Doug will do his duty. They’ve probably already destroyed the little bugger. It’s not fair, though. It might’ve been our only real shot at finally locating Da.”
Servants gestured for people to move out of the foyer and make their way into the entrance proper, and I gave my friend’s arm a tight squeeze, letting her know that no matter what happened, I was here for her. Always.
Chapter 39
WE WALKED FROM THE FOYER AND INTO THE ARABIAN NIGHTS.
Everything was shimmering, jewel-toned, and luscious with silk. It rippled from the walls. Draped from chandeliers. Dangled from the two-story ceiling in great swags of color. Our low-heeled boots immediately sunk into Turkish carpets that covered the vast expanse of marble.
Above our heads a Capuchin monkey in green vest and fez rode a minuscule bicycle calmly across a hair-thin wire.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I whispered.
Bare-chested men in turbans and gold balloon pants wove among the guests offering trays of jeweled goblets and bite-size delicacies. In a parlor just off the main hall, tuxedo-clad gentlemen lounged on silken pillows, ogling a gyrating belly dancer.
Phoebe wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Smells like a weed shop on going-out-of-business day.”
I nodded as the smell of pungent incense filled my nose.
“It looks like the inside of a freaking genie’s—?” I stopped suddenly. “Um . . . And how exactly would you know what a weed shop smells like?”
She rolled her eyes. “Stumbled into it, one day while me and Doug were out shopping for Mac’s birthday.” Her teeth flashed, a relief of white in the sumptuous, over-colored room. “Almost bought my own grandda a dragon-shaped bong before we figured it out.”
“Nikola, darling. You came!”
Though I’d seen her in person only days earlier, without my very specific memory, I would never have connected this woman with Consuelo Vanderbilt’s frumpy, uptight mother.
She glided up to take Tesla’s hands in hers. Though the same protruding pale eyes and snub nose turned up to simper at Tesla, clothed as she was in a too-revealing gown of eye-watering gold silk, Alva Vanderbilt looked like a someone had tried to pass a potato off as a Christmas gift.
Tesla managed a fleeting smile, though I could see his jaw muscles flex with a desire to wipe off his hands. “Mrs. Vanderbilt.”
“Please, do call me Alva, won’t you?”
When she moved in to kiss Tesla’s cheek, he recoiled, gaze pinned to the woman’s very ample chest.
Affronted, Mrs. Vanderbilt stood there with her mouth open. “Why, I nev—”
“Pearls,” ?Tesla choked out. “You—?you are wearing pearls. I cannot abide the sight of them.”
She blinked at him, the anger on her face gradually morphing to pity. “Oh, you poor dear,” she said, fingering the strand of huge matched pearls that disappeared down her bodice. “Yes, I’d heard of your strange sensibilities, but I’d quite forgotten. I shall ring for my maid and have her take them away, posthaste.”
“Do not trouble yourself so. In all honesty, we shall be here for a short time only. To meet with Mr. Vanderbilt and John Jacob Astor. Has Mr. Astor arrived?”
Mrs. Vanderbilt pouted and I wanted to puke. “Yes, and he will be delighted to see you,” she said, her voice flattened. “He’s been sick with concern that you would not attend. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen him or my husband worry so over a guest.” She made a little moue of distaste. “William is still greeting our guests, of course. But JJ is somewhere about. I could . . .” The woman’s voice trailed off as her bulging eyes skimmed past Phoebe and me, and landed on Collum. “Nikola,” she purred. “Won’t you introduce me to your lovely young friends here?”
Gilded peacock feathers wobbled from Alva Belmont Vanderbilt’s upswept hair as she breezed past Phoebe and me to plant herself directly in front of Collum. “My, what a handsome boy you are.”
As I watched, Collum’s face turned the color of the burgundy swath dangling just above his head. I bit back a snort as Mrs. Vanderbilt wiggled closer, practically propping those enormous boobs of hers right on his chest.
“I do not mean to appear brusque, Mrs. Vanderbilt.” Tesla gestured toward the staircase. “But I believe we should go and find Astor, yes?”
Alva Vanderbilt, champion of the women’s suffrage movement and one of the wealthiest and most powerful women of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, whined, “Must you take this one?” She tucked her arm into Collum’s. “He is quite delicious. Let me keep him for a while, won’t you?”
Since I’d known him, I’d seen Collum MacPherson single-handedly fend off two chain-mail-clad, sword-wielding brutes. I’d watched him have his shoulder sliced open to the bone and seared back together with a white-hot poker. But I had never, ever known him to look as scared as he did when Alva Vanderbilt tried to drag him away with her.
“I—?I—?I,” Collum stuttered.
“Sadly,” Jonathan said, appearing from nowhere to rescue Collum, “I am afraid Professor Tesla and I have need of a strong young man tonight.”
“Don’t we all?” Mrs. Vanderbilt muttered beneath her breath, making Collum squirm even more. “Good evening, Jonathan,” Mrs. Vanderbilt said without interest. “How is Julia?”
“My wife is well, thank you. She shall bear our first child in—”
Alva interrupted. “Yes. Yes. How lovely. Well, I shan’t detain you any longer.” Rising on tiptoe she leaned in, her lips brushing Collum’s ear as she spoke to him sotto voce. “I shall be waiting anxiously for your return. Oh!” Her gaze hardened. “Consuelo.”
I wheeled around to see that the timid girl I’d met at the Waldorf was smiling as she looked at me. “Miss Randolph,” she said. “I’m so delighted you came.”