“This does not feel like a social call.”
“It’s not.”
He directed me toward the short hall, then spoke to the man who’d resumed his post behind the desk. “Raul, no interruptions, please.”
Odilon’s office overlooked the parking lot behind the building, not the more enticing harbor view. I eyed the room’s setup and chose one of the chairs in the seating area near the windows for its vantage point.
“Sit. Please,” he said, closing the door. His hands brushed my upper arms as he stepped around me and seated himself with practiced ease. “To what do I owe the honor of your company, Ms. du Sang?”
Dresses were tricky, especially when seated almost knee to knee with someone I had adversarial feelings toward. I shifted slightly and affected a legs-closed, spine-straight, do-not-mess-with-me posture. “I heard you were in town and, as an employee of the Agricultural Commission and steward of the island’s orchards, it behooves me to know the faces behind those who appear to be actively purchasing—or trying to purchase—large plots of arable land.”
I left out the part for now about actively harassing landowners in order to get their hands on that land.
Odilon eyed me with cool assessment, stopping his gaze at my feet and the footwear that wouldn’t last five minutes on muddy, manure-soaked ground. “Although you are not currently active on the GIAC’s payroll, you are able to act as their representative?”
My spine froze and my brain went blank. Why would he have that information on the tip of his tongue? “I’m on a leave of absence,” I said finally, and left my answer at that. “I’m here to ask you about properties the Flechette Group owns here on the island, as well as properties the Flechettes are rumored to be interested in.”
“Fair enough. This is, after all, a realty and land development business.”
I tilted my head to the side and feigned confusion. “Why are you doing business with the Flechettes in the first place?” I asked, gesturing around the room. “Isn’t your home in Europe?”
“Who said I’m doing business with Meribah and her associates?” he asked, settling his back into the chair and crossing his legs.
“I assumed you must be involved with them in some capacity, seeing as how this is their office.”
Placing his elbow on the curved arm of the chair, he rested his chin on his thumb and tapped at his temple with one finger. “I have been involved with Meribah and Adelaide Flechette on a personal level for some time. The three of us are no longer a…” He hesitated. “We are no longer an ongoing concern. There is something about majority stakeholders being placed under house arrest, with no relief in sight, that can have an immediate and rather deleterious effect on the health and reputation of a business.”
“And on personal relationships?” I added.
“I purchased this company from them last week,” he said, ignoring my poking. “At their request, I would add. Raul ordered new signs for the building. As soon as they’re installed, we shall announce the change in ownership.”
My feet sweated in my shoes. My palms were next. I had no snappy comeback. And there was no way I was going to let Odilon know what it cost me to sit still in his presence and remain polite.
“Would you like me to tell you more of this story, Calliope? I have a feeling you will find it interesting.”
I mimicked his relaxed posture—or tried to by shifting my hips slightly and repositioning my knees to face him. “Please, continue.”
“When my father decided he wanted to increase our family’s real estate holdings, he—like many other forward-looking business people—looked to the West, to the United States. At my urging, he then looked to the north. And what he—what we—saw were lands ripe for our methods.”
“Your methods of what?”
“Acquisition. We acquire land in order to ensure that our expanding interests are maintained and to continue to secure the future for our offspring.”
“You have children?”
He trailed a gaze over my body, cataloguing every square inch of my external real estate, performing an organ count on the inside, and assessing my usefulness. The sweep might have burned my clothes off if I felt any kind of a sexual attraction to this man. I didn’t. My dress stayed on, but I gave up all pretense of not sweating.
“I plan to have children when the time is right and when the suitable partner is found.”
“Why farmland?” I asked, steering us back to the topic I had come to put on the table. “Why orchards?”
Odilon kept his lips together and offered me the smile of the long-suffering. “Calliope. You disappoint me. You know the answers to your own questions.”
“I want to hear it from you, Odilon,” I said.
“There is a wellspring of magic on this island, a liquid heartbeat, if you will indulge my poetic side. There are similar storehouses of magical energy throughout all of North America, from Mexico to the northernmost territories of Canada. Clan Vigne wants access to those raw materials.”
“Why?”
“Still with the sophomoric questions?”
“Why, Odilon, when you and the rest of Clan Vigne already control villages and towns and entire mountains in France?”
“Because we are running out of magic.” He pressed his elbows onto the arms of his chair and brought his fingertips together at his chin. His irises began to flicker and change color. “Century after century of inbreeding among the Fae and a focus on the accumulation of material wealth has depleted our resources. We need new blood.”
“And soil.” I bit my tongue so as not to add portals, tunnels, and the underland, all of which granted access to other places—and other realms.
He nodded. “Yes. And land. And the riches within those lands.” A silence grew between us. “I can see why Meribah wanted you for one of her sons. You are smart, Calliope. Magically uneducated and completely underdeveloped, but you have fire.”
Cue my exit strategy.
Odilon noted
