Baka suspected Heaven was having fun at Song's expense, but it would have been impossible not to appreciate the essence of life and liveliness in that sort of youthful mischief.
Turning back to Simon, with one hand in his pants pocket, the other holding a heavy crystal tumbler of Scotch etched with the monarchy's coat of arms, Baka did look as if he could pass for James Bond.
"One thing is clear. It isn't going to be as easy as we had hoped. So far it's been Myrtle's Law regarding getting the Inversion kick-started. Everything that could go wrong has gone wrong."
"And you couldn't be more wrong about that," Simon replied.
"How so?"
"The worst thing that could have happened would be for the head of the task force to be reinfected with the virus, thereby becoming part of the problem instead of part of the solution."
Baka opened his mouth to respond, but his attention was redirected by a small fanfare.
The prince was being introduced and making a grand entrance.
Heaven leaned toward Song. "Do not tell my husband I said this, but oh, my, my."
Duff's eyes found Song like heat-seeking missiles. It was uncanny. Only a lifetime of pressure cooker discipline enabled him to tear his gaze away. But not before Heaven caught it. "Uh oh."
Song looked at Heaven and shook her head with such a tiny movement that it would have been missed by anyone not staring at her. That, coupled with the pleading look in Song's eyes, told Heaven all she needed to know.
"Let me take back that 'uh oh'." She glanced at the prince. "Bloody buggin' bags full of shite is what I should have said."
A guest standing nearby turned and gave Heaven a look of censure to indicate her severe disapproval of the word choice. Heaven just smiled and bowed her head gracefully like she was a courtier in a Renaissance play. The polite vocabulary enforcer seemed to accept that and moved on.
Heaven turned back to ask Song what the plaintive look was about, but she was gone. While Heaven had been posturing for a stranger who needed some business of her own to mind, Song had noticed a little fae with glasses motioning her toward an alcove. Excited by the intrigue and the idea of possibly speaking to the prince, she ducked off to the side. He placed a handwritten note in her hand surreptitiously.
Her heart was beating a little faster as she opened it and read the words, Meet me. -D. She experienced one of those rare, surreal moments when her intuition worked on herself. And she knew her life was going to be permanently divided into everything that had come before that moment and everything that happened after she'd read the note she was crushing in her gloved hand.
Concealing the note in the palm of her hand, she slipped it into her little bag then looked squarely into the face of the messenger.
"Come with me?" The verbal question mark at the end of that phrase left no doubt that it was not a command, but her choice. She nodded her assent. The time for considering was over. Her course had been set before she'd accepted the invitation to attend the prince's party.
Looking back over her shoulder to be sure no one was paying attention, she slipped away doing her best to look nonchalant and no one saw her leave. No one except a double ex vampire who had been asked to take her to the party and see to her safety while out and about in "fairyland". He had no intention of explaining to the Lady Laiken after the fact of whatever was afoot that he'd been too busy to pay attention to Song's comings and goings.
Baka set his glass on a sterling silver tray as it was carried past, excused himself from his conversation with Simon and followed Song with enough stealth to make a shadow envious.
Grieve led her down several deserted and dimly lit hallways, up a half tower of stairs then turned down a tiny curving hall that seemed to branch off and double back. He stopped next to another set of stairs leading higher.
"Down there." He pointed to the ground.
She stared at the stone steps beneath their feet. "Down where?"
"Fae Gods! You be elf!" he practically hissed.
She narrowed her eyes thinking it amazing that he had discerned that as the result of the utterance of two words. "Aye."
He stared for a moment, pressed his lips together, then shook his head. "Down. There!"
She looked closer at where he seemed to be pointing at the ground. At shin level there was an opening in the wall behind the steps. Her eyes jerked up at him. "'Tis a joke?" she hissed. "You can no' be serious! 'Tis your idea or his?"
"Have no fear, elf. You will fit. I assure you. I'm very good at spatial relationships."
"Spatial relationships," she repeated in a dry tone. "By that you would be meanin' the relationship between the flare of my hips and the width of that openin'."
He blushed a little and looked down, not meeting her eye. "Oh, aye."
"You're thinkin' I will be agreein' to acrobatics on a dusty stair? In this dress?" He continued to look at the ground, but said nothing more.