and tossed it at him.
He ducked as the heavy paper fluttered to the ground like a dead, black thing. “Ah, so serious.” Seeing that she really was mad at him, Robert sobered. “Sorry, Donna. I was just kidding. Trying to take the edge off all this bloody tension.”
Her shoulders were still tight with anger. Or perhaps with fear. “Well, then, you’re doing a shitty job of it.”
He ran his tongue over the silver lip ring that caught the candlelight, a nervous habit. “Right. I got that. Once again, my apologies.”
Donna forced herself to relax. “Demian only cares about power. If he fancies anything, that’s what this is all about.”
“He wants something from you,” Robert said. “That’s certainly true.”
“Yeah,” she snapped. “Maybe he does, but it sure as hell isn’t a date.”
Donna stomped out of the library and ran upstairs to her bedroom. She wanted privacy for the phone call she was about to make.
When her mother picked up on the second ring, Donna’s face broke into a grin of pure relief.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Donna.” The smile was evident in her mother’s voice, although Donna could also detect a note of strain. “It’s good to hear from you.”
The strange bird with its invitation from Demian was the first thing on Donna’s mind, but she tried to wait. At least for a moment. “I miss you.”
“You didn’t call just to catch up.” Rachel Underwood’s tone was suddenly all business. “This is about that so-called ball the Demon King has dreamed up. Any excuse to get us all in one place, I’m sure.”
“So, everybody got invitations?”
“Yes. The Order of the Rose in Prague—they aren’t too happy about it, let me tell you! It takes something special to dig them out of that mausoleum they call a home. Even an alchemist from the Order of the Lion was found by Demian’s messengers. We don’t know how he managed it, but I would imagine that a demon has his ways.”
The Order of the Lion was the most clandestine branch of alchemy; the members were more like spies or super-secret agents. Half the time, nobody was even sure where their latest base of operations was—whether or not they were on covert missions or just sitting around somewhere sipping martinis (shaken, not stirred). Locating one of their members out in the middle of nowhere and deep undercover—to personally deliver an invitation to something as ordinary as a party—was pretty impressive. Demian clearly hadn’t had any trouble finding them, which was just another demonstration of his effortless power.
“At least we’ll find out what he wants—he may be about to offer terms,” Rachel added.
Donna immediately felt shards of ice smash any pleasure she felt at speaking with her mom. “Terms? Maybe he’s just feeling destructive. The British Museum is pretty much gone.”
“It’s terrible, of course, but this is exactly the kind of behavior we expect from a creature like that. Why do you think the alchemists worked so hard to lock him away for two centuries?”
Which made Donna feel guilty all over again for letting such a potentially powerful being loose on the world. She guessed it was a feeling that wasn’t going to disappear any time soon.
“So, Mom, how are you feeling?” If the change of subject was unsubtle, her mother didn’t call her on it.
“Better. Much better.”
“Are you sure?” Donna couldn’t help her constant anxiety about her mom’s illness and recovery. She wished she could have stayed with her in Ironbridge, just to keep an eye on her, but here she was stuck in England serving out her “sentence” for all the mistakes she’d made. It didn’t help any that her mom had a tendency to brush her sickness aside as though it had been a minor thing, rather than a ten-year trip around the bend to Crazy. Half the time, Donna wondered whether her mother’s recovery was yet another of the Wood Queen’s tricks, but so far things seemed to be moving in the right direction.
“You worry too much,” Rachel said. “I’m feeling almost back to my old self. I’ve been spending a lot of time with Quentin.”
“That’s great,” Donna replied. “I bet he’s happy to see you back.”
Her mother laughed. “He’s the only one.”
Donna couldn’t help her own snort of laughter. Aunt Paige and Simon Gaunt had been shocked to witness Rachel’s magical recovery. They’d tried to look and sound pleased, but neither of them did a very good job of it. Even Aunt Paige, who was experienced at putting a positive spin on things in her