Woman King (21 page)

A black BMW sedan was waiting for us at the
curb outside in front of the museum. Gabriel greeted his driver
warmly as the man stepped out of the car and came around to open
the door for the two of us.

“I am old-fashioned and prefer to let someone
else do the driving. I hope you don’t find it too
ostentatious.”

I laughed. “I don’t mind at all,” I said. “My
mother also likes to use a car service, but with her I think it’s
safer for everyone if she doesn’t operate a vehicle. She gets too
distracted to watch the road.”

“Too distracted?” Gabriel repeated.

“Oh, yes,” I said. “She can never look at the
scenery as a driver, she has to look as an artist, which is not
very safe for anyone. By the way,” I asked, changing the discussion
abruptly. “Where are we going for dinner?”

“You must know that to a Frenchman this is a
question of paramount importance and must be considered carefully,”
he said, a faux graveness in his voice.

“
Oui, monsieur
,” I said, my hand over
heart.
“Mais j’ai très faim!”

I could tell our banter delighted him, a
thought I said very clearly to myself.

“I am delighted,” he said, “It’s a pleasure
to meet someone who enjoys the French language and culture.”

Our exchange reminded me that for some reason
both he and William seemed to read my thoughts very clearly. I made
a note to ask him about it later.

“I was thinking we would have dinner at an
old favorite of mine called Bix,” Gabriel said. “Do you know
it?”

Anyone involved in San Francisco politics
knows Bix, a former speakeasy located on the lower lip of North
Beach. It is a quintessential San Francisco watering hole that
attracts the high-flying set. Once, while dining there, I had been
asked to move from my table to make room for the actor Sean
Penn.

I nodded back, replying in mock seriousness,
“C’est très cher!”

“Olivia,” Gabriel said, his dramatic voice
returning, “How can you put a price on a good meal?”

After a few minutes, we arrived at the
restaurant and I allowed him to lead the way as we walked inside. I
assumed two things as we entered the ornate dining room: first,
that Gabriel knew the owners, and second, that he must have called
ahead, because he managed to walk in at 8:30 and secure a table
immediately. As we were being shown to our seats, I had the
terrible thought that the headwaiter might mistake me for Gabriel’s
mistress. Once again, Gabriel turned around quickly, having heard
my thoughts; he wagged a finger at me as he scolded, “You worry too
much. Relax.”

It should have been spooky to be read so
easily, but with Gabriel, for some reason, I did not mind. I knew
he was shielding some emotion from me, but I also knew
instinctively that he did not intend to harm me, or harbor any
romantic intentions.

Once seated, we quickly ordered. “Two
Champagnes,” Gabriel said. “And I will have the oysters.” I
wrinkled my nose at the thought, and asked for the steak tartar.
Our server tilted his head slightly in approval of my choice and
then took our order for salads for the next course.

After taking a sip of my drink, I decided to
ask Gabriel about something that had been bothering me. “You know,”
I said. “The one topic we didn’t discuss tonight is the connection
between Stoner Halbert and Lacy Smith. Does his demon work for her
now?”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t think so, at
least not in the way you suggest. She is a fiercely religious
woman, so I don’t think she would be comfortable with it out in the
open. But Stoner and his demon, they would be quite attracted to
her and the kind of extreme energy her conviction gives off.”

“It doesn’t make sense to me that Halbert—a
lifelong Democrat—would work for a conservative candidate,” I
said.

Before either of us could speak again, our
waiter appeared with a platter of oysters for Gabriel, picked fresh
50 miles up the coast in Tomales Bay. He left and returned a few
minutes later, pushing a wooden cart toward us with a small metal
bowl fixed into its center. In the bowl was the beginning of my
steak tartar.

Around the edges of the mixing bowl were
other small containers with various ingredients: minced shallots,
capers, salt, pepper, and mustard. I watched intently; I enjoyed
the attention to detail that the dish required and the briny smell
of the capers. As the server pointed to each ingredient, I nodded
slightly. Once all of the ingredients had been placed in the bowl,
he took an egg from inside a small drawer and cracked it over the
mixture. Then he gently tossed it all together, forming a small
mound, which he served to me on a plate, along with several small
warm toasts.

When I looked up from my dish, I found
Gabriel watching me. “I know,” I said. “Sometimes I feel as if I am
secretly part French.”

For a moment, Gabriel’s eyes reflected a
shadow of melancholy, but then very quickly it was gone. “Eat up,”
he said. “You want to enjoy it while it is fresh.”

We ate in silence for a few moments until I
steered us back to our conversation.

“Please finish telling me why Halbert is
working for Lacy.”

Gabriel took a sip from his second glass of
champagne. “That was his old life, Olivia,” he said. “He made a
deal with the devil. Now, he has no alliances, no allegiance to
anything. His goal is to win and to be powerful.”

I was beginning to see the logic, but I
wasn’t quite sold. “I understand the part about Stoner,” I said.
“But why would the dark forces want to elect a God-fearing
Christian woman to office? Her whole purpose in life is to root out
the devil.”

Gabriel let out a burst of laughter, “Yes,
yes,
bien sûr
! And how delicious to be the devil and be
sitting right under her nose; even he has a sense of humor, you
see. How satisfying to work to elect a candidate that appeals to
the worst in human beings, eliciting their fear, their paranoia and
insecurity. To help a candidate who excuses the shortcomings of
their supporters by blaming their misery on some other religion or
culture.”

“Are you saying that the devil likes to elect
conservative Christians to office?” I asked.

Gabriel shook his head. “No, not at all. You
look at it too literally,” he said as the waiter removed our dishes
and placed our salads on the table. “The devil has no political
agenda in a Republican or Democratic way. He cares nothing for
elections. What he enjoys is watching humans reap what they
sow.”

“But you don’t want that to happen,” I
said.

“
We
don’t want that to happen,” he
corrected, pointing his salad fork across the table. “You are a
part of this now.”

“I’ve never placed that level of monumental
importance on my campaigns,” I said earnestly. “I can’t function
under that kind of pressure, the kind where the world ends if my
candidate loses. Now the stakes feel so much higher. No one knows
about Stoner Halbert but me. No one knows that he is only running
the campaign to cause trouble.”

Gabriel smiled back with a glint in his eye.
“It only takes one person to change the course of something,” he
said, pausing to ask for a dessert menu. “Besides, no one knows
about you either.
Ç’est la même chose.
”

“Do you really think I will make a difference
in this race?”

“Yes, I do,” Gabriel said. “Campaigns are
unpredictable things. Your intuition and ability to read people
will be invaluable.”

I nodded, feeling more confident. It was
getting late, but I had one more question I needed to ask. I waited
until our sorbet arrived and then I pounced.

“What are you?” I asked, taking a spoonful of
chocolate sorbet.

“You already know, but you didn’t ask me if I
am a witch,” he said.

“How do you do that?” I asked, “read my
thoughts so quickly?”

Gabriel took a spoonful of lemon sorbet and
paused for a moment. “I am a witch,” he said. “One of many from a
family that can trace its roots back to the dawn of France. More
recently, the Laurent family hails from Aix-en-Provence, where we
settled in the sixteenth century.”

“Do you mind if I ask how old are you?” I
asked, watching Gabriel’s bemused expression. “
Pardon
, what
I mean is, are you actually aging, or are you like Elsa?”

Gabriel smiled at me, a slight sadness in his
voice. “Regrettably, I am aging,” he said. “Even I do not possess
the ability to stop time.”

“Can you walk through time like Elsa?”

He nodded, but turned to the waiter to ask
for two glasses of calvados before he said. “I can, but it’s not my
main skill. My skill is telepathy.”

Now it all made sense. “So can you read all
my thoughts,” I asked, an image of William popping into my head. I
wondered if he had the skill too.

Gabriel let out a snort. “Olivia, when you
push them to the front like that, then, yes, I can hear everything.
Curiously, there are times when I feel like you are trying to send
me your thoughts directly. Is it possible you are also
telepathic?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “I believe my
mother would have told me if she thought the trait ran in the
family.”

“Hmm, it’s something for you to think about,”
Gabriel said, signaling for the check.

We sat in amicable silence for a moment or
two as he looked over the bill and placed his credit card on the
table. “By the way, about this man you’re seeing…what does he
do…
Ç’est ton ami? Qu’est-ce qu’il fait?”
Gabriel asked. “You
know you are driving Elsa crazy.”

“I’m not sure yet,” I said, as we walked out
of the door to our waiting car. “It’s a work in progress. What
about you? Do you have anything to say about William?”

Gabriel raised his hands to his chest in
surrender.
“Rien, mademoiselle!”
Not a thing.

From the restaurant the driver drove straight
to my house. As I turned to walk to my doorway, Gabriel called out
to me.

“Olivia, remember what I asked. Please do not
go into the park alone.”

“Yes, I promise,” I said, and thanked him
once again for dinner.

****

When I awoke the next morning, my first
thought was that I would be seeing William that evening. We had
been texting each other every day, but tonight would be our first
opportunity to be alone since I tracked him down at the nightclub.
The days had passed quickly, the campaign occupying an ever-greater
portion of my attention. Now that Lacy was entering the race, I
knew the pace of the campaign would accelerate, as we were forced
to respond to any criticisms she might level against Levi in the
press.

In anticipation of the deluge, my day was
booked solid with meetings with our opposition research team to
comb through her records and our own. Clients are often shocked
that I ask them to pay for the privilege to dig up their own dirty
laundry, but it is always better to know what your opponent will
find
before
they find it.

I pondered these details for a few more
moments as I got dressed and walked downstairs. When I reached the
foot of the stairs, I caught a glimpse of Elsa in the living room
in the middle of her usual morning ritual of yoga and
stretching.

“Good morning,” I said softly, as I padded
into the kitchen for espresso. I made her a cup of tea before
walking back to the living room. “Do you want to come into the
office today to listen in on these briefings?” I asked. “There may
be something that turns up that interests you about Halbert and his
demon.” Elsa was bent in a sun salutation and did not respond
immediately. I set her mug of tea on the coffee table and waited
patiently. There was no rushing a time-walker. Finally she came out
of her pose and looked at me, grabbing the tea I’d made for
her.

“I would like to get a good look at the demon
if he comes around again,” she said.

I nodded. “You’re welcome to come with me
wherever I go,” I said, pausing. I was about to say, “Except when
I’m with William,” but I decided we were having too cordial a
conversation to muddy the waters. “I mean, you can come with me
whenever it interests you.”

“You were going to mention him,” she said,
not bothering to use his name.

I smirked.

“Look, I wouldn’t ask to come on a date with
you either,” I said, trying to make light of the situation.

Elsa made a quick sound of exasperation. “As
if that is ever going to happen,” she said. “Besides, I often think
I prefer the company of women to men,” she said.

“Are you saying that you’re a lesbian?” I
asked, not really caring one way or another about her answer.

Elsa shook her head. “No, I bed men, but I am
saying that after I’m finished, I prefer the company of women.”

I laughed. “Elsa, that is a very common
sentiment among women, regardless of the century.”

We both finished getting ready and left the
house together for the day. Elsa stayed with me for the majority of
the briefings, but then left after receiving a call from Aidan. The
two of them were spending an ever-increasing amount of time with
each other. I began to wonder whether he was interested in Elsa for
more than her experience with weapons. Given her lack of ability to
read the bigger picture, I was certain she would never have a date
in this century without some serious intervention on my part. I
resolved to ask her more about it when I saw her next.

As I had predicted, the day flew by and I was
able to make it back to my house to shower and change before the
doorbell rang. I stood upstairs listening to the chimes. There was
a vampire ringing my doorbell, something I could not have imagined
a few short months ago. I quickly ran downstairs to open the door,
delighted by the sight waiting for me. William was wearing faded
Levi’s, a navy t-shirt and a brown cord jacket with a lamb’s wool
lining. He wore a brown wool ski hat sat on top of his head,
pulling his red hair close to his face. I didn’t imagine for a
moment he was cold. I assumed he did it to fit in, since the night
air was growing increasingly chilled as we approached winter.