can, she can’t.”
Bite me. Like I want to talk to you. I stuck out my tongue behind her back. Okay, second grade stuff, but I was limited. And tired.
“That would be great.” Meg smiled prettily. Such a diplomat, and with few words too.
“Meg.” Persephone glared meaningfully. “Don’t bother me with little things.” She jerked her head in my direction.
That’s it!
“If you’re done yapping, can you poof us into Arkady’s penthouse? Or is that beyond your mighty all-powerful goddessness?” I jeered.
I landed with a hard thump.
But it didn’t hurt near as much as it did when Meg landed on top of me.
Out of the Closet
“Get off!” Shar shoved me off her shoulder.
Slowly, I got up on my hands and knees, then stood. Wherever we were, it was quiet, save for the muffled hum of some electrical appliances that I couldn’t see.
“Where are we?” I looked around; it all seemed very familiar. There was a wall of glass looking out over the city, and the shapes of modern furniture, all soft in the dim light of evening. Shar rose and wandered over to a sleek black table that sat under a huge mirror. She picked up a small statue of a woman in a draped, Grecian-style gown. The place reminded me of our apartment, but I knew that wasn’t where we were.
By the door was an assemblage of large leather suitcases, all black, standing like soldiers. I went and flipped over a luggage tag and suddenly felt sick.
“Well, what do you know …” I said.
“What?” said Shar, coming over. “I don’t know where she plopped us, but—”
“I’ll give you three guesses.” I pointed to the tag.
Printed in overlarge letters was the name Arkady Romanov.
“We’re in his house?” Shar murmured.
I held my forehead in my claw-like hand, carefully so I wouldn’t scratch my own eyes out. “Well, it’s where you told her to send us. Everything was going so well until you opened that big beak of yours—”
“Shut up!” Shar cried, patting her beak. “A little empathy—you’re usually the one who can’t stop talking!”
I shook my head. “What are we going to do here? If we’re found in his house, we’ll get arrested, or shipped to the zoo! And we can’t keep enchanting other people. Demeter might come before we get a chance to siren Arkady. If she whisks him off again before we get to him, I don’t see us having any more chances to try. We have to get out of here. Now.”
“Are you kidding me? We can’t leave!”
I threw up my wings in exasperation. “Why not?”
“We’re in his house!” Shar eyeballed me with impatience.
“I know. And I want to go.”
“Come on, Meg. Persephone just handed this to us. When are we ever going to get a chance like this? We’ll corner him here—with no Reynaldo, no Jeremy, no Dem—” She stopped herself. It was probably a good idea; better not to accidentally invoke anything, or anyone.
“It looks like no one’s here,” I said grudgingly, walking over to the window. “Hey, we’re in the same building as the office, look!” There were the familiar shops across the street.
Shar rushed over and peered out. “You mapped out the portals. Where’s the nearest one?”
I dug the iPhone out of my purse and navigated to the portal map app. It only took a second or two for the grid to pop up. There was one portal close to the House of Romanov, a mere four blocks away.
I looked at Shar, appalled. “We’re going to the morgue.”
“Maybe it’s in the lobby,” she offered hopefully.
“I doubt it.”
“Whatever happened to positive thinking?” Then, tapping a talon on her chin, she resumed her inspection of the apartment. “No wonder he stays at the office so late; he only has to come up here at the end of the night. Think he’ll be coming back soon?”
“I don’t know. What time is it?”
Shar looked at her watch. “About 11:30. Let’s have a look around.”
Nearby, on a small credenza, lay a long, thick, leather-like envelope. Shar grabbed it, turned it over, and dumped it out. The soft swishes and plops the contents made as they landed sounded like thunder in the quiet apartment. Shar sifted through the pile: tickets, passports, and other travel documents. She pulled one out and held it close to her face so she could read it. “Get a load of this. His passport says he’s seventy-five.” She laughed. “Guess they forgot the three in front.”
“What time is his flight?”
“Noon.” She stuffed everything back into the envelope and