Box Office Poison (Linnet Ellery) (27 page)

“John said something like that. I think that’s why he didn’t like it after growing up here. So what are you going to do now that you’re in this world?” I blurted because my internal editor had gone on strike.

“I have no idea. My … father.” The hesitation didn’t escape me. “Says I have to get my GED. Or perhaps I’ll just ask if you want special sauce on that burger. Or deliver pizzas. I hear there’s good money in delivering pizzas.” He gave me a smile. “Of course, I’ll have to learn to drive. Wonder if I could use a horse? Riding was one of my great joys.” Again the smile, both brave and ironic.

“I love horses too,” I said.

“I miss mine. He was spectacular.” The brave front trembled a little, but Parlan recovered.

“She’s just awful,” I said.

“I can’t disagree. All she had to do was wait another thirty or so years and the problem of the human changeling would have been resolved. Now I have to live what remains of my life in a world I don’t know and don’t understand.”

The sadness touched me. I reached out and laid my hand lightly over his. “You’ll be okay. You have good people around you. A family that can help you.”

“But they don’t love me.”

“And she didn’t love you either,” I shot back. “If she did she wouldn’t have treated you this way. Or John. You’re both just objects to her. Things to possess until she gets tired of you.”

His hand was jerked from beneath mine, and he held it up like a shield. “Don’t! I can’t bear to…” He broke off and coughed again.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Sure, but nothing alcoholic. I’m jet-lagged and booze would put me to sleep, and I have to get up to New York tonight.”

“Come on,” Parlan said, and gestured toward the door. I followed him down the hall and into the kitchen. It was another homey space redolent with the scent of recently baked cookies. “Hot chocolate?” Parlan asked.

“That sounds great,” I replied. I settled down at the kitchen table and watched as he prepared a pan, milk, sugar, and cocoa. “I didn’t think cooking was a princely skill,” I said, and smiled to indicate it was a joke. He took it in the spirit it was offered and smiled back.

“We are permitted eccentric hobbies,” he answered dryly.

A stunning idea struck me. “You should open a restaurant. Serve Álfar dishes. You really are the prince from a foreign land. You’d make a fortune.”

He stood frowning at me, the wooden spoon hanging between his fingers. Then the lines in his forehead smoothed, and he slowly nodded and used a word I’d never heard. “
Hilial,
you may be right.”

“What does that mean,
hilial
?”

He pursed his lips considering as he stirred the hot chocolate. For a long moment the only sound in the room was the hiss from the gas burner and the slow scrape of the spoon on the bottom of the pan. “None of these are exactly right, but morph, transfigure, transmute.”

“So you follow the Álfar religion.”

“Of course. It’s how I was raised.”

“How’s that going over with Big Red?”

“As you can imagine, not great.” He poured cocoa into a mug and handed it to me.

The ceramic sides were warm against the palms of my hands. I blew across the surface, and streamers of steam bowed and danced. Risking a sip, I managed not to burn my mouth, and I was pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t too sweet.

A few more sips of chocolate gave me the courage I needed. “May I ask you something else?”

“Of course.”

“It’s about John, so it might be awkward, painful.”

“I don’t blame him. He’s as much a victim as I am. I know he didn’t want to stay in Fey,” Parlan said.

“How do you know that?”

“I lived there forty-three years. I had friends, even among my mother’s guards, and they’re still my friends. Some of them slip over to visit me, and they told me the devil’s bargain she offered.”

Outside, snow had begun to swirl. I was jumpy enough that I kept expecting something to coalesce out of the whirling flakes. I drew in a breath. “I saw John, and he was so changed. And she blinded him in one eye. Why would she do that?”

“Control. Also part of Álfar magic. A sliver of ice that blunts all emotion toward anyone but herself.”

“Well, he had contempt down pretty well,” I said, trying to mask the hurt and pretty sure I hadn’t succeeded.

“That’s actually a good sign. It means he’s fighting back.”

“So she rejects the son who does love her and has to use magic to make the other one love her. Wow, that is really fucked up.”

“Yes.” Parlan dropped his head and stared down at his hands. “And you’re right. I do love her, still.”

His expression was so lost and despairing that I couldn’t help it. I once again reached out, and this time I clasped his hand in mine. “It will get better.”

There was again that smile that flickered like summer lightning. “You promise?”

My lawyer caution warred with a human reaction. I was proud to see that human won. “Yeah, I promise.”

“So what happens now?”

“I tell my boss you can help us,” I said.

19

The next morning I walked back into the main office at Ishmael, McGillary and Gold. The snow that had blanketed Philadelphia had also hit New York City. Central Park looked beautiful under a layer of white. Dogs and children romped in the snow, while a few parents and owners, and mostly nannies and dog walkers, looked on. Now I was glad I had lugged my heavy coat to Los Angeles. Otherwise, I would have been in New York without a coat. Though the thought of taking it back to LA was daunting.

The Legal Eagles Pop Brigade was on hand to greet me. It was what we young female associates in the firm had dubbed ourselves after we’d all issued an epic smackdown on a vampire partner who had been using and harassing female associates. Caroline, looking elegant as always, was in the lead and gave me a fierce hug.

“You don’t have a tan,” she accused.

“It’s been raining in LA and cold. Well, cold for them.”

“So no picking up hunky blond surfers on the beach and fucking their brains out, huh?” Cecelia asked, living up to her reputation as the bawdy broad.

“Afraid not.”

“It seems like you’ve been gone forever,” Juliette, a beautiful woman from Jamaica, said.

I thought about it. “It has been a month and a half. God help me.”

“Any sign it’s going to end soon?” Delia asked.

“Not really.”

“Can we all go to lunch?” Nancy asked as my flying scrum of friends escorted me to my office.

“Sorry, no. I’m joining in the arbitration via video conference, and the time difference means I’m going to be sneaking bites of sandwich during the testimony.”

My assistant, Norma, rose from behind her desk like an iceberg calving off a glacier and stared down at me. Her teased, silver-white hair was like a helmet. “Well, I’m surprised to see you.”

From her tone it was clear it wasn’t a pleasure, and as usual there was no evidence her computer had been turned on once since I had been gone. I had to assume she used it. Just never when I was watching. I had inherited Norma along with my office from my deceased boss, and I didn’t have the nerve to suggest a change. The fact that she was tech-phobic wasn’t that big of a drawback in a white-fang law firm; most of the vampire partners felt the same way, and she did defend me behind my back while insulting me to my face. It was a little like having my mother working for me.

“Hi, Norma, glad to see you, too. And I’m only in for the day.”

“Hmmm!” She sniffed. “Lot of damn money to fly coast-to-coast for one day.”

“Good thing it was the firm’s money,” I said brightly. Norma almost cracked a smile.

“We should all get back to work,” Caroline said, asserting her control as the most charismatic among us. There were more hugs and everyone headed off to their offices.

Mine looked deserted. The desk was bare except for the computer. My plants had been moved by the watering service. The waste can was empty. For an instant I felt like I had been erased from the firm. I shook off the feeling, dumped my briefcase and coat, and went in search of the AV tech to make sure everything was ready for the conference.

I found Ollie in his cluttered office filled with computers, headphones, cables, soundboards and other mysterious electronic items. Ollie was a plump, balding, twenty-something who wore a suit because this was Ishmael, McGillary and Gold, but somehow he always looked rumpled. Today a button was missing on his shirt and his tie was uneven.

“All set?” I asked.

He took another swallow of coffee before answering. “Totally. I’m gonna eat while this is happening. Okay?”

I sighed. “Sure. Just don’t make it anything too delicious. Otherwise I won’t be able to hear over my stomach growling.”

“Check.” His thumb thrust up. “I’ll be sure to buy something shitty for lunch.”

With a wave and a chuckle I left. When I returned to my office, Norma informed me that I was wanted on the seventy-third floor. “Why?” I asked with some trepidation.

“And you think I would know? The senior partners don’t give reasons; they just say frog.”

“Okay, I’m jumping.” I headed to the elevators.

Those of us on the lower floors referred to the seventy-third floor as Teak Heaven. It was opulent in the way Versailles is opulent. The incredibly handsome and incredibly supercilious receptionist, Bruce, told me I was expected in Mr. Ishmael’s office. Which gave me some relief. Since it was Shade who had summoned me, perhaps I wasn’t in trouble. He was my mentor and champion at the firm.

Shade’s secretary nodded at the door, indicating I could go in. Shade looked up as I entered, and the sharp blue eyes scanned me critically. He came around from behind his desk and gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead. His lips were very cold.

“Linnet, child. Thank God, you’re all right. You have the most alarming tendency to find yourself in mortal danger.”

“I think I’m a chaos magnet,” I said, trying to keep it light. “Trouble always finds me.”

Shade pushed back a lock of silver-gray hair that had fallen over his forehead. A smile flickered briefly on his lips. “Just so you don’t cause it,” he quipped in that ponderous way that passed for humor among vampires.

I held up two fingers in the Boy Scout salute. “I promise I won’t. Is that all you wanted? I’ve really got to get ready for the hearing.”

“Actually, I wanted to ask about Sullivan.”

“Oh, God, did he come back and defend me to Gold and McGillary? Is that why he missed the hearing?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t seen Sullivan since you left for California.”

Cautious now, I took a step back. “So what was it about David that you wanted to talk about?”

“It was a two-to-one vote to reinstate him. I wanted to make sure my vote of support isn’t going to come back to haunt me,” the senior partner said.

“So, who blackballed him? Let me guess: Gold,” I said.

“You’d be wrong. It was McGillary.”

I couldn’t picture the Mr. Milk Toast third partner whose name appeared on the letter head taking such a strong stand. “Good God, why? What did David do that it would upset McGillary that much?”

“It is not something that should be discussed with a human.”

I looked up into that pale, aristocratic face and knew I had been put firmly in my place. “If you’re asking about his performance as the chief arbitrator on this case, he’s doing a great job. He’s firmly in control, very fair, and the parties respect him.”

“He did place us uncomfortably in the news—”

“No, I did that,” I interrupted. “If you’re talking about the press getting a picture of us leaving the studio.” There was a slight nod from Shade. “Well, he was trying to protect me. And the firm,” I added hurriedly.

“He used power and was detected.”

“Look, Shade, it’s not a big news flash that all of you Powers have, well … powers. He’s a terrific lawyer, okay?”

“You like him.”

I considered the stiff, opinionated, curt man that I knew and realized Shade was right. “Yes, I do. And it’s not just because he saved my life,” I added forestalling the words that I could almost see forming in Shade’s head. “He has integrity and he hates injustice. Sometimes he seems almost human,” I added, making a little joke of my own. If it had been any vampire but Shade I wouldn’t have dared. Though I expected my foster liege would have been amused as well.

But it didn’t get the expected response. Instead Shade looked worried. He clasped his hands behind his back and turned away. Almost inaudibly he said, “And that is what worries me.” Then more loudly he added, “You may go, Linnet.”

*   *   *

At 11:50 Ollie and I were in the smallest conference room. He had a muffaletta from a nearby deli, and the rich smell of olive mix, meats, and cheeses was driving me crazy. I sipped my Diet Coke and waited at the head of the table as the tech guru adjusted the computer screen so I was caught by the camera and would be able to be seen once the video link was in place.

“Ollie, may I have a potato chip?” I asked.

“Actually, why don’t you take half of this. It’s a monster.” He came over and gave me half the sandwich and shook out some potato chips from the bag.

“Thank you.”

“De nada.”

I ate the sandwich while Ollie alternated between muttering into his headphones, an indistinct buzz that never quite rose to the level of understandable words, and munching on his lunch.

He flashed a thumbs-up in my direction. “Okay. We’re going live.” I quickly swiped a Kleenex across my mouth, hoping that there were no crumbs or olive paste in evidence and I hadn’t totally wrecked my makeup. Ollie pointed a forefinger at me. “Now!”

The computer screen on the conference table switched from the start page to an image of the conference room in California. I couldn’t see David because we were arranged as if I was sitting next to him, but I had an excellent view of the rest of the room. The crowd was still in settling-down mode, with clumps of people at the coffee carafe, others peering at the tray of pastries, still others filling a glass with water from the cut-glass pitcher.