“And, yes, she’s here tonight. That’s Jenny Austin over there near the terrace doors. The redhead. She’s talking to William Hughes.”
Isabella looked toward the doors and saw a strikingly attractive woman chatting to an older man. Jenny was dressed in a sleek black gown that, although elegantly cut, managed to convey a funereal air. Something in the atmosphere around her, Isabella thought, a faint, telltale disturbance.
She opened her talent very cautiously and immediately regretted it. Glacial mist filled the entire room. Everyone in Arcane had secrets, and a lot of them were the deep, dark kind. Hastily she shut down her other sight. From this distance she could not see the precise sort of energy that swirled around Jenny Austin, anyway.
“What kind of talent is she?” Isabella asked.
“Jenny’s a spectrum energy-talent. Quite brilliant. She’s a very respected researcher in the L.A. lab. Actually, I think that was part of her appeal for Fallon.”
Isabella could feel a small cloud of gloom gathering over her head. Of course Fallon would be intrigued by a woman who was not only beautiful but also a gifted researcher.
“I can see where he would have been attracted to her because she has a scientific mind,” Isabella said, trying not to let her glum mood show.
“That was no doubt part of it,” Raine said. “But according to Zack, there was an additional feature as far as Fallon was concerned.”
“Well, she is lovely.”
“It wasn’t just her looks,” Raine said. “It was the fact that one of Fallon’s several times great-grandmothers was also a scientist—a botanist, as a matter of fact. Lucinda Bromley Jones lived in the Victorian era and was married to Caleb Jones.”
“The other half of the original Jones & Jones?”
“Right. I’m afraid that Fallon went with the assumption that if the founder of J&J had good luck marrying a scientist, it made sense for his descendant to find himself a wife with scientific inclinations.”
“In other words, Fallon tried to apply logic to the problem of finding a wife.”
“Typical Fallon.”
Isabella stifled a small sigh and switched her attention to the other side of the room where Maryann Jones was chatting with a group of distinguished-looking people that included Fallon’s mother, Alexia Jones. Fallon had introduced his parents at the start of the reception. Alexia and Warner Jones had been very gracious but that was only to be expected, Isabella reminded herself. There was no way to be sure what they really thought of her. Fallon had made a point of presenting her as my new assistant.
“Fallon’s aunt was checking me out, wasn’t she?” Isabella asked.
Raine smiled. “She certainly was.”
“Think she knows that Fallon and I have a personal relationship as well as a business relationship?”
“I think everyone in the room is aware of that.”
“Good grief.” Isabella tried to squelch a tiny surge of panic. “How on earth could they possibly know? And don’t you dare tell me it’s because everyone in the room is psychic.”
“You don’t have to be clairvoyant to sense the energy in the atmosphere when the two of you are close together. The fact that you and Fallon are involved in a personal way was obvious the minute you walked into the room tonight.”
“Ack. I think I need another canapé and a second glass of champagne.”
“I’ll come with you to the buffet table. I need to fortify myself for another round of socializing.”
They made their way around the fringes of the crowd, pausing occasionally so that Raine could greet someone or introduce Isabella.
“I imagine being the wife of the Master of the Society can be somewhat demanding at times,” Isabella said as they neared the buffet table.
“You have no idea.”
Isabella fixed her attention on a platter of tasty-looking puff pastry canapés. “Those look good.”
“Go for it,” Raine said. “I’m off to check out the cheese tray.”
Isabella picked up a small dish and circled around the small group blocking the path to the puff pastries.
“From what I hear, Fallon Jones is getting worse,” a man said in low tones. “He’s become obsessed with that conspiracy he calls Nightshade.”
“Now, Hal, that’s just gossip,” a woman observed. “You have to agree that Nightshade represented a genuine threat.”
“Past tense,” Hal insisted. “That’s the point, Liz. Look, I give J&J credit for breaking the back of that organization, but with Craigmore gone, there’s no way Nightshade will ever recover. With its leader dead and five of the drug labs destroyed, the organization is finished. We should be directing our resources elsewhere.”