“But why?” Orchid asked, her wondering expression sending a stab of quickly stifled guilt through him. “You’re going to get what you want with her tomatoes dead. Her work will be discredited. Yours will flourish.”
The guilt rose again, swelling at the memory of Trisk’s laugh at a shared joke, the way she had softened toward him over the last few weeks, how he liked knowing she was in the office next to his if he needed a second opinion—and how that opinion was actually worth something.
Then he quashed it with the thought that Trisk was lying to him, pretending to be his girlfriend to further her career. She deserved it. Those who live by the lie die by the lie. “It all works together, Orchid. All or nothing. Now are you coming?”
Orchid’s expression twisted into an unsatisfied frown. Seeing it, Kal mockingly doffed his hat in invitation. Her dust an odd shade of purple and green, Orchid flew to him, making a tiny huff before landing amid his fair strands.
But she was atop his head. Mood improved, he gently settled his hat over her. His eyes flicked to the ceiling one last time, and then he shut off the light, leaving the small room lit only by the glow of the underground field, green and waving in its artificial wind. Three days it would take to see if his “fix” was going to be effective.
Plenty of time to see how far Trisk would go.
14
The warm air was eminently pleasant, streaming through Trisk’s long, unbound hair as she sat beside Kal in his Mustang convertible, top down to let the night flow over them. They wove through her twenty-five acres of tiny trees as if on ice, the motion smooth and unhurried, and she closed her eyes, surprised at how the ache of misunderstanding Daniel had left in her had been soothed by Kal’s new stretch of silence.
Dinner had been casual despite Kal showing up on her porch in a suit and tie, his recently gained field tan and blond hair making him look as if he should be on a surfboard, not behind a lab bench. Even she had to admit they looked good together, with her in her new short dress and matching yellow knee-high boots. She wore Quen’s helix necklace for strength, telling Kal her dad had given it to her when he remarked on it.
Kal had been attentive all evening, slowly pulling her from her funk. The waiters had fawned over them, and she’d caught Kal looking at her bare thigh more than once. It had gone a long way in helping her forget Daniel’s angry frustration at realizing that not only was the world larger than he had known—but he wasn’t allowed to participate. It bothered her. A lot.
Quen, currently lying low on the other side of town, hadn’t been happy when she’d told him she wasn’t going to break her date with Kal, and really, what choice did she have? Perhaps moving to Florida and working with stuck-up, chauvinistic pigs was a fitting punishment.
God, my feet hurt, she thought as the headlights bounced over her long, low-slung home and then the barn. The boots were new, and they pinched. She looked at Kal, a smile threatening when he jerked his eyes from her legs again. “Thanks for tonight,” she said as she played with the metal helix around her neck, surprised to find she meant it. “I had a great time.”
“You’re welcome.” The car came to a quiet halt between the barn and the house. “But it’s not over yet,” he said as he turned it off. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Trisk dropped her necklace, her eyebrows rising as she followed his gaze. “In the barn?”
But Kal had already gotten out, his slim silhouette sharp in the car’s headlights as he jogged around the front of the car to get her door. “Dessert is served, Dr. Cambri,” he said with a flourish. “Jell-O made with champagne. You’ll love it.”
Her suspicions vanished in a wash of amusement and she grabbed her purse and got out. “You’re kidding. You made Jell-O?”
Kal grinned, his expression almost lost in the dim light. “Uh, actually my cleaning lady did. She put pineapple in it, but you can eat around it if you want.”
He took her arm as if they were heading into a four-star restaurant, not wobbling over the dried ruts to the rolling door. “I love pineapple,” she said, head down to watch her step. “But why are we eating it in my barn?”
And then Kal shoved the rattling door open.
Trisk stopped, lips parted. It was dark inside, but she could see the cloth-covered bales of straw making a rude table and chairs in the middle of the floor where she’d summoned a demon. Hanging over them was her unlit lantern, and set to the side was one of the coolers from the lab used to carry temperature-sensitive samples off-site. A radio sat on it, and a bottle opener.
“When did you do this?” she said, not sure if she should be flattered or creeped out.