"Ooo - ooo -ooh. Eliseo, she calls him. Eliseo, like-"

"Cole."

"-he’s a pal, not the richest guy on the East Coast. Eli-"

"Cole!"

"- seo, boss with benefi -"

"Cole!"

He grinned at her so widely it looked as though his cheeks must ache. "Dinner’s at six-thirty. Have a nice run."

And that, Margrit reminded herself on the way out the door, was the normal life she wanted to get back to.

"Ooh, the ice rink! We’ll go with you!" Cameron’s enthusiasm left Margrit spluttering, her protest that she was meeting Daisani proving no deterrent. Cam only demanded, "How many chances are we going to have to meet Eliseo Daisani?" and went charging off to find the ice skates with a child’s enthusiasm.

"Probably quite a few, now that I’m working for him." Margrit’s grumble fell on deaf ears.

Cole took in her wrinkled forehead and lowered his voice to ask, "Is this a bad idea, Grit?"

"Eliseo’s not the only one I’m meeting."

"You’ve got a date?"

"Not the way you’re thinking. No, come along. Just don’t be mad if I kind of disappear some, okay? There’s going to be a lot going on." The answer seemed weak, but telling her housemates they couldn’t join her because it might be dangerous bordered on absurd. That it was true only made it more difficult to say.

"I can talk Cam out of it. Romantic evening home alone, all that," Cole offered just before Cameron bounded out of their bedroom, two pairs of skates brandished triumphantly.

"We haven’t been skating in ages. Last time we went was when you proposed, Cole. You can buy me another big mug of hot chocolate."

Margrit cracked a smile. "I don’t think an evening in is going to compare to a reenactment of your engagement night. It’ll be okay. Just don’t get too attached to hanging out with me." Cam, rooting through the coat closet, kept up a cheerful litany of things Cole could buy for her, and Margrit’s smile turned to a laugh. "Somehow that doesn’t seem like it’s going to be a problem."

Cole murmured, "All right," and squeezed Margrit’s shoulder, then lifted his voice to repeat, "All right," to Cameron. "But I’m not buying you another diamond ring, okay? I just want to make that clear right now."

"How about earrings? Or a tennis bracelet?"

"You don’t play tennis."

"I could take it up!"

The trio took a taxi to the Center, Margrit watching the sky fade from gold to black as Cameron and Cole continued their banter. Cam eventually leaned over to nudge her, curiosity making her eyes bright even in the fading light. "You forgot your skates."

Margrit pulled a smile into place. "You two get to have fun for me. I’m working. Can you imagine Eliseo Daisani ice skating?" He would be impossibly graceful, though she had no idea if his tremendous speed would be achievable on skates.

"I can hardly imagine him at all. I can’t believe you’re going to work for him, Grit." Cameron sat back again, eyes wide with good humor. "You happy about the new job?"

"I’ll let you know," Margrit promised. "Tell you what," she added as the cab neared their destination. "You two go ahead and hit the rink. I’ve got to find Eliseo. I’ll make sure to introduce you before he leaves, okay?"

"You’d better. My clients will all be very excited that you’re working for the rich and famous now. I’ll have to give them full reports."

"Cameron, how do you get any weight lifting done if you’re so busy gossiping?"

"I talk," Cam said. "They grunt and listen while they work." Cole broke into a whistling tune that dissolved into laughter as Cam’s elbow caught him in the ribs. "Listen! Listen !"

"Listen to what? Help! Help! I’m being abused!" He opened the door and stumbled out of the cab, with Cameron batting ineffectually at him. Margrit paid the driver and climbed out, then pulled them both into hugs.

"Thanks for coming, guys, even if I’m leaving you to entertain yourselves most of the evening. I needed some nice ordinary human interaction."

"As opposed to inhuman interaction." Cole lurched into a zombie walk, arms out and eyes rolled back. "Grr, argh."

"I’d have brought my other boyfriend if I’d known you wanted ordinary human interaction," Cameron said in an aside, then hugged Margrit a second time and chased after Cole, both leaving dignity far behind.

"I love you guys!" Margrit shouted after them, then swallowed a yelp when a deep voice behind her said, "I can see why."

She spun around, raising a hand defensively, and relaxed again to see Alban standing a few feet away. "What are you doing here?" She glanced toward the horizon, where scraps of color still lingered.

"Watching Malik." Alban looked around with a sigh. "Or not, as it may be." He returned his gaze to her, his voice and manner growing more formal. "I’m to tell you hello."

"From Malik?"

"From Grace. I believe she’s here tonight, as well. She said she wanted to witness Eliseo and Janx’s first public meeting in a century."

An image of Alban’s tall alabaster form beside Grace’s earthier milk-and-bleach colors flashed so strongly through Margrit’s mind that she blushed with the memory of it. It was a few long seconds before she trusted herself to say, ungraciously, "Oh. That’s nice."

Alban ghosted a smile. "That was the least convincing thing I’ve ever heard you say. Would you like to try again?"

"No." Margrit frowned at her hands, then spoke quietly. "I’m envious of her, Alban. She’s beautiful, and she’s had you in her clutches for weeks while I’ve been up here trying not to watch the sky. How am I supposed to compete with that?"

Alban drew a breath to answer, then stilled, looking beyond Margrit. Cold drained down her insides, leaving her heartbeat slow and painful in her chest. She turned, every muscle stiff and protesting the movement, to find Tony standing a few feet behind her, his expression betrayed.

"At least you knew you had competition."

CHAPTER 17

"Tony." Margrit stared at him, numbness radiating out from the trickle of cold at her core. "Tony, what are you doing here?" She cringed as she spoke, recognizing the question as the worst thing she could have said.

"Kaaiai sent me." His answer came from miles away, cool and hard. "He knew you were uncomfortable with whatever’s going on tonight and he thought it might make you feel better to have me around. What are you doing with him, Margrit?"

"I’m not with him. I didn’t even know he’d be here." She threw a frustrated look at Alban, who stood still and silent as the stone he could wrap himself in. There was no help in his expression, no offer of explanation, only a neutrality as terrible as Tony’s own.

"Has this been going on since January? Anthony Pulcella," Tony said, directing the introduction beyond Margrit, his voice tight with anger and hurt. "We haven’t met formally."

"Nothing’s been going on, Tony. I just re-met Alban a few days ago."

"Alban Korund." The gargoyle nodded a greeting, never breaking his gaze from Tony’s. "We haven’t, and I regret the circumstances by which you know me informally. Had there been a way to come forward and clear my name, I promise you I would have taken it. Margrit spoke highly of you as a good man."

"Just not good enough." Tony transferred the weight of his hurt to Margrit. "Not good enough to tell when I’m being cheated on."

"Tony, there’s been nothing to tell!" Margrit felt Alban shift minutely beside her, as if he detected the scent of her half-truth, and shame heated her face. She clenched her hands, tears of frustration stinging her eyes, though she wouldn’t let them fall. "I’m sorry. I should’ve told you I was-that I’d-shit! Goddammit, I’m not seeing him!"

"He’s why you’ve been running so cold. Not just the last few days, but since January. What’s he got that I don’t, Margrit? Money? Good WASP breeding? Your mom’s going to love it when you bring him home. Can I sit in on that one?"