lights in the crepe myrtle trees on either side of the walkway and in its walled garden. There wasn’t a parking place for blocks, so I was glad we had walked from Teag and Anthony’s house. Before we even reached the door, I could hear the strains of a string quartet playing in the garden, the hum of conversation and the clinking of champagne glasses.
“I’m so glad they brought the Drayton House back to life by making it the Archive headquarters,” Anthony said. He’s on a couple of historical preservation boards, and his appreciation of old houses remains unspoiled by memories of nearly being killed by murderous ghosts. “I like what they’ve done with it.”
On one hand, I felt bad that we weren’t out hunting for Sariel. But Sorren had felt we needed a day to regroup. He had given Teag a list of items to research on the Darke Web, and said he needed to check with some of his supernatural sources before we took the next step. Sorren seemed concerned about a showdown with Sariel, and that made me downright worried. So going to a swanky event and rubbing shoulders with Charleston society was as good a distraction as any.
Every downstairs room was comfortably full of upper-crust Charlestonians dressed to impress. “Anthony! Good to see you,” a man said as we entered, and Anthony grinned, shaking his hand and chatting. Anthony’s law practice serves a well-heeled clientele, so he worked his way around the room for a few moments, shaking hands and trading small talk.
“Cassidy and Teag! It’s been a while – nice of you to make it,” someone else said from the crowded foyer. Most people knew us from Trifles and Folly. My family had been in Charleston since the city’s founding, so I recognized a number of the older guests as people my parents knew before they moved to Charlotte.
Most of the city’s Who’s Who milled about in the foyer or out in the garden. I scored a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, along with a bacon-wrapped scallop from a tray of passed hors d’oeuvres, and Teag did the same. Finally, the crowd shifted and I spotted Mrs. Morrissey at about the same instant she saw us.
“Cassidy! Teag! I’m so glad you’re here.” Mrs. Morrissey waved to us where she was ensconced in a wing chair in the middle of the old house’s parlor, surrounded by some of the city’s blue-bloods and the Archive’s most enthusiastic donors. We made our way over, and I was glad to see that other than a barely-noticeable bruise on her forehead, Mrs. Morrissey looked fully recovered. She noticed the antique walking stick I wielded with a bit of over-the-top glam. “Love that cane,” she said. “Quite an antique – I can’t believe you’re actually using it!”
“What’s the use of having something if you never take it out of the case?” I said with a smile. She had no idea just how much ‘use’ Alard’s walking stick got, or how lethal an ‘accessory’ it actually was. While I didn’t intend to use the walking stick indoors, I figured I should have it with me for the walk there and back.
“You won’t believe the news!” Mrs. Morrissey bubbled. “We received a phone call yesterday from a man in Belgium of all places, who wanted to purchase ‘Nephilim Rising’ for his collection! And he didn’t hesitate when I named the price – isn’t that marvelous?”
I managed to keep a straight face, although I was certain that Sorren was her mysterious Belgian. “That’s fantastic,” I said. Although the painting was downright dangerous, the money raised would go to support the Historical Archive, which was a worthy cause. “Do you have to ship it to Belgium?”
Mrs. Morrissey shook her head. “No. But he was most insistent that he be able to have the painting picked up this morning. Said he had one of his people in Charleston who would be leaving soon, and he gave instructions to bring around a cashier’s check and have the painting sent with his agent. So we started this year’s fundraiser off with a bang!”
Bless Sorren, he managed to get the painting out of the Archive before it could cause havoc with the gala and more people got hurt. I owed my patron a great big ‘thank-you’ for that.
By the time Mrs. Morrissey was ready to lead the guests up to the ballroom, Anthony had rejoined us, standing just behind Teag. Anthony’s suit was an updated Michael Kors