Deliverance (Knights of Black Swan Book 12) Page 10

  “No, you’re not. You think you are, but the course you’ve chosen is ill advised and isn’t going to end well.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Harm laughed. “Sixt. Anybody sitting here, listening to this story, would tell you the same thing. You need to tell him the truth. I’ll be with you as your, um, second. Back you up.”

  She shook her head. “I just need some time. Once he gets to know me he’ll understand that I didn’t mean it. I’ll tell him how sorry I am. You’ll see. He’ll come around.”

  To say Harm looked skeptical was the understatement of the season. Everything he’d learned about demons pointed to the folly of Sixt’s plan. Demons were not known for being understanding, especially not when they believed a wrong had been done them, and Harm was afraid Sixt might get herself into even more trouble with a well-intended, but misguided plan.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “So we agree to disagree.”

  He was dubious, but agreed to a change of subject. At least for the moment.

  “For now. Now about the summit.”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “I’ll send out feelers. You send out feelers. We’ll see if we get a response. Let’s have a date and place in mind.”

  “I have a place in Aspen. Kind of private. Off the beaten path, but big enough for a party. It has an airport. So it’s accessible. Ski season won’t get started for another seven weeks. So it won’t be crawling with Texans.”

  “Is that usually a problem?”

  “Frankly. Yes.”

  He chuckled and she noticed the light of excitement was brightening his eyes. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Let’s see how many we scare up. If any. How are you going to reach out?’

  “Ravens.”

  Her eyes widened. “Ravens? Really? Old school much?”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “Internet.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “Of course I am.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “I’m going to send out a social media announcement couched in a spell that will fly straight to the attention of those of our kind. It will be visible only to those who can see.” She raised her eyebrows for effect. “If it happens to accidentally make its way into the landing space of someone not intended, they’ll see an error message.”

  Harm sat back and looked at Sixt in a different light. “Sixt. You’re a little genius. That’s too brilliant for words. I feel like a dunce for not thinking of it myself.”

  She preened for comic effect but sincerely reveled in the compliment.

  A server set food in front of them; Harm’s triple burger slathered in hickory sauce with melted Colby in between each meat patty and Sixt’s lobster on a roll with fresh coleslaw.

  Harm turned his plate around on revolution. “I’ve just decided I’m moving here.”

  Sixt smiled. “For the burgers?”

  He glanced at the sandwich in her hand. “Not for the lobster rolls.” She chuckled. “Maybe partly for the burgers.”

  “You need a job?”

  He barked out a laugh and shook his head. “A job is the last thing I need. So what will it say? The, uh, message.”

  “Good question.” She thought as she chewed then said, “Fall Ball? Witch summit hosted by Teutonics. All branches of the World Tree welcome.”

  He nodded. “That’s good. Do we really have to do a ball?”

  “Hey. I’m new at this. I don’t know the expectation.”

  “If one person answers, it’s going to be a really sad little ‘Ball’.”

  “Okay. Scratch Fall Ball. How about ‘Meet Us In Aspen for a summit’?”

  “Yeah. That’s more like it. Fill in the date and time.”

  Sixt chuckled. Harm’s growing excitement was contagious. And maybe he was right. The luxury of interacting with others was worth the risk. That, and Sixt hadn’t been sitting on her hands for the past couple of hundred years. She’d been learning and growing and practicing. Even if she didn’t have money, power, and connections in high places, it would be damn hard to take her down. She doubted that an army could do it.

  Back at the penthouse they were sharing a bottle of wine on the sofa in front of the fire. Harm hadn’t stopped talking about what they would talk about with other witches, how many were likely out there, what they’d be like.

  Deliverance stepped out of the passes into the hallway outside Sixt’s sitting room, thinking she’d be expecting him for ‘quality time’. He arrived just in time to hear her tell her brother, “So you’re really thinking you might find a mate.”

  “One thing I know for certain,” he replied, “I won’t find a mate secluded on my island or, pleasant as it is, sharing grape with my sister.” He took a sip of obscenely expensive black blend. “This is good.” He angled his body so that he could face her. “Maybe there’ll be somebody for you.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  She laughed softly. “Not looking.”

  “Why?” Realization hit his features like a spotlight. “Not that demon.” Deliverance turned his head slightly toward the conversation on which he was eavesdropping to hear her answer, but she gave no verbal reply. “I guess I haven’t asked. Have you ever come close?”

  “To mating?” She shook her head. “Not even close.”

  “Boyfriends?” She shook her head again and took a sip of wine. “Lovers?”

  Harm looked incredulous when she shook her head to that as well. “You don’t mean you’ve never had a relationship with a male. Not even human?”

  “For a short time I had a husband who was aged in the extreme and completely infirm.” Harm understood by the inflection that she meant there was nothing physical. “It was arranged by a friend in the Danish court. I got a title and a tidy sum out of it.”

  “No real relationship? Ever?”

  “Nobody interested me.”

  “Except that demon.”

  “Well,” she shrugged and looked away, “there was that, I guess.”

  “Sixt. You’re not saying that…” He paused trying to process what he was about to ask. “You’re not saying that you’ve never…”

  “You know, Hans, being my brother and only living relative gives you liberties to ask about my personal life, but they’re not unlimited and you’re crossing a line.”

  “Why? Modern people are really open about such things.”

  “Maybe I’m not modern.”

  “That off-the-shoulder top you’re wearing and that Andy Warhol painting,” he pointed to the wall behind her, “say otherwise.”

  “Alright. Correction. I’m not modern in every way.”

  Deliverance remained motionless while he processed what he’d just learned. The witch was inexperienced in matters of romance and she might have an infatuation that had lingered over a passage of time that was noteworthy even for a demon.

  Perhaps his plan was due for a little tweaking. Perhaps he could pretend to tolerate his captivity, draw the witch out, even give the appearance of liking her. Gag. Perhaps she would open up like a moon magnolia at midnight, giving him all the information he would need to arrange for her eventual comeuppance.

  Once he’d settled on a course adjustment, he stepped around the corner and into the room as if he’d just arrived.

  Sixt looked up. “Oh, Deliverance. I won’t be needing you tonight.”

  The demon’s eyes slid from Sixt to Harm, who said, “You’re welcome to join us. Maybe a game of whist?”

  Sixt wished they were seated at a table so she could kick her brother in the shin.

  “Not much for cards,” Deliverance said. There was no reason not to be polite to the warlock.

  “Wine then?” Harm pressed.

  The demon kind of liked Harm in spite of himself and smiled slightly. “Thank you for the offer. I don’t drink often and tonight’s not the night.”

  “Well, I don’t want you to feel unwelcome just because I’ve barged
in on my sister.”

  “Unwelcome?” Deliverance looked at Sixt like he’d love to throw a fireball and incinerate her where she sat. “Why does he think I’m here?”

  “He knows the whole story.” Sixt looked away as she raised her wine glass to her lips.

  “In that case,” Deliverance said to Harm, “you should know it’s senseless to ask a slave if he feels welcome.”

  “But we can always make the best of a situation, old man. Just direct your feet to the sunny side of the street,” Harm said.

  Deliverance looked at Sixt. “Is he serious?”

  “We’ve been out of touch for a very long time. I’m not sure.”

  To Harm, he said, “It’s easy to have a sunny disposition when you’re the master,” his eyes slid to Sixt, “or the mistress, in this case, and not the slave. If that’s all, I’ll be somewhere else.” He managed to refrain from adding, “Anywhere else.”

  “Yes. That’s all,” said Sixt and the demon disappeared.

  Harm chuckled and shook his head. “If you think that demon is coming around to your way of thinking, you have lost your way.”

  “I don’t think I have much choice but to ride this out. Maybe cosmic intervention…”

  “Cosmic intervention,” he repeated. “You ever heard of magical thinking?”

  “Not the specific phrase, but I can guess what it means.”

  “No, you can’t. It’s a human term for what adolescents do when they choose to believe, without logical basis, that things will ‘magically’ go their way.”

  “Is there a point forthcoming? Because I’m going to bed…”

  “Hold on to your patience. This absolutely applies to your situation and you know it. Your belief that any good can come from forcing that demon to be where he doesn’t choose to be is the very definition of magical thinking.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Yeah? Well, I hope that when we ‘see’, you’re still in one piece.”

  She sighed. “There’s a guest room down the hall that way. Did you bring luggage? Are you staying long?”

  “One. Thank you. Two. I didn’t bring luggage, but this will not be the first time I’ve slept in my clothes. Three. As to how long I’m staying, how long before you kick me out?”

  She laughed. “You can stay until you get on my nerves. I’m not used to having other people around. I mean other people who don’t work for me.”

  “Same here. Let’s use each other to get reacquainted with being sociable.”

  Sixt remembered how much she’d enjoyed the salonnieres in Paris during the years when she was first on her own and decided that Harm was right. It would do her good to enjoy the company of people of a like mind.

  CHAPTER Eleven SUMMIT

  Sixt and Harm were not just surprised when RSVPs began rushing in. Some came by way of electronic private message. Some responded to Harm’s method.

  When one of them heard a tapping, they would open the window to allow the raven to hop in and drop a small note, rolled, and tied with black satin ribbon.

  “This answers the question of how many of us have survived,” Harm said. “What’s the count?”

  “Thirty-seven coming. Eleven more say they can’t make it this time, but stay in touch.”

  “How many females?” Harm looked over her shoulder.

  Sixt smiled. “One track mind. Twenty-two females. Not counting me.” He grinned. “Before you get too excited, we haven’t asked how many of those are attached.”

  His grin fell. “That’s true. We should have included a poll.”

  She laughed. “No. We should not have included a poll.” She showed him the handwritten list. “However…”

  “However what?”

  “I might be able to find out.”

  “How?” Harm was as eager as a teenage human.

  “In addition to you, Deliverance, myself, and the staff, I can house five guests at my house there. The others will stay at hotels. I can discreetly ask who will be traveling alone and needs single accommodations.”

  “Your ingenuity amazes me.”

  “I’m getting addicted to your praise.”

  “There are worse things.”

  “I know.”

  “So you’re beautiful, brilliant, and sneaky. I’m looking for a mate just like you, but not related.”

  “You could do worse.”

  “I know. Shame the demon doesn’t have a chance to get to know you as a person and not a, um…”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen, is it?”

  “Probably not now.”

  “Now,” she said absently.

  “What do you mean ‘now’?”

  “Ashes. She keeps saying ‘now’ about the demon. I don’t know what it means. She likes Deliverance, but doesn’t like this arrangement. I think.”

  “Smart. This thing with the demon. It’s like self-sabotage. I worry about you.”

  “Worry about yourself, lover boy.” She turned back to the desk. “I’ll let you know how many say they’re coming alone and I’ll extend invitations to the unattached females to stay at the house.”

  Harm raised his arms in victory. “Yes! It’ll be like The Bachelor. Tell the Aspen florist to get the roses ready.”

  “You better calm down, brother. Just because you’re looking for a mate doesn’t mean others are. Some people might just be looking for some good clean fun.”

  He smiled broadly. “There’s value in every offering and I wouldn’t turn it down. Assuming it’s being offered by the right person.”

  “And by right person, you mean…”

  “Fair skin. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Long legs.”

  “I’m waiting to hear about the qualities you’re looking for. You make it sound like you’re shopping for a car. I want this exterior, this interior, these wheels…”

  “Sixt. You sound like a romantic.”

  “You sound like you’re more interested in husbandry, in breeding witches, than in finding a companion. You don’t believe in love, Harm?”

  “I do. I just think it’s as easy to love someone with fair skin, dark hair, blue eyes, and long legs.”

  “Like I said, maybe you need to start a matchmaker website for witches.”

  He smiled agreeably. “You’re joking, but I’d consider it. Let’s see if this works out first. Chemistry over prose. Any day.”

  Deliverance was playing Jakab on Seskatoon with a sage demon when Sixt called. He sighed deeply. “Sorry. I have to go. Don’t touch the board or I’ll know and I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Whatever,” said the sage demon.

  As Deliverance sped through the passes he remembered the exchange with Sixt. Everybody really did say ‘whatever’.

  She was putting some sort of cheesy lobster thing on her plate when he arrived in the kitchen. “You called?”

  She’d been busy with Harm for four days and nights. She looked over at him and he realized, for the first time, that she never startled at an unannounced appearance.

  “I did. I’d like your company tonight.”

  “Brother tired of you?”

  “You could say that,” she answered without missing a beat. “Although he didn’t say what he’s doing tonight, I’d give odds it has something to do with tomcatting.”

  “You mean he’s horny.”

  She nodded toward the chair with no place setting, giving a silent suggestion that the demon take a seat. “You could say that if you preferred vulgarity.”

  He grinned. “It just so happens that I do prefer vulgarity. For one thing it simplifies matters. Everybody says exactly what they mean instead of trying to disguise it with innuendo and euphemism.”

  “Innuendo and euphemism,” she repeated. “Very fine words for someone promoting simplicity.”

  “I have my moments.”

  “I’m sure you do. Is tonight one of the nights you’d like wine?” She held the bottle ready to pour into an extra glass, remembering that he’d said he imbibed occasional
ly.

  He gave her a smile so stunning it almost made her take a step backward from the force of its beauty and the power of its surprise. “Sure. Why shouldn’t tonight be the night?”

  “Very well,” she said when she recovered the ability to speak. “Tell me when to stop.”

  When the glass was half full, he said, “That’s good. You don’t want to impair my judgment.”

  “Why’s that? What happens when your judgment is impaired?”

  “I accidentally set things on fire.”

  Without a word she took the wine glass she’d just filled for the demon and emptied it in the sink. As he laughed silently, she said, “Better safe than sorry.”

  As she returned to her chair, she watched in fascination as he lit the two tapers with his index finger. “Fire is better when it’s deliberate. Don’t you think?”

  She nodded. “Completely agree. So what have you done with yourself while you’ve been on leave the past few days?”

  Deliverance debated rushing his change of tone, thinking that if he was too nice too soon it would cause the witch to suspect him of underhanded trickery. “My time away is my business, but since you asked so sweetly, I will tell you one thing. When you called I was playing a game with a friend in another dimension.”

  “What kind of game?”

  “Ummm. It’s kind of like chess, but the game pieces are alive and sometimes they have a mind of their own, which makes it far more unpredictable.”

  She laughed. “I’ll bet.”

  The demon didn’t appreciate the fact that Sixt had a throaty, somewhat sexy laugh. Or that her eyes sparkled in the candlelight when she was amused. Such thoughts were singularly unwelcome and not to be tolerated. Reminded of his mission, his hands curled into fists under the table, but he managed to hold an unwavering smile. The witch was none the wiser.

  She told him all about the proposed summit in Aspen. “You can use your preferred method of transportation, of course.”

  “Not a fan of the cold.”

  “It’s still pre ski season.”

  “But still cold.”

  “It’s all about dressing for the weather. Would you like me to take you shopping? You’d be cute in a trapper hat.”

  Cute?