“Am I the first one here?” I asked, admiring the pale pink drink topped with an epaulet of mint.
“The family is gathering and should arrive shortly,” he said. “Malvyn is retrieving his parents.”
I left off perusing the books and artifacts and mounted three wide steps to the raised area. Beyond the glass, the edge of the deck and the overhanging roof framed a view of the Salish Sea. To one side, a stand of Arbutus trees with their twisting trunks and branches, waxy green leaves, and smooth reddish skin reached toward the waves lapping at the rocky coastline. I sipped at the agua fresca, savoring the blend of subtle, refreshing flavors and the scent of salt water. As I lifted my gaze, I caught the arrival of a slender woman in a short dress reflected in the window.
Maritza Brodeur.
Swallowing a sip of fruit water along with my fear, I turned, placed my glass on the coaster provided, and went to meet my mentor for the first time. She dropped something, and as it rolled along the floor the object headed straight toward me.
I went to one knee. A diamond-encrusted earring slowed to a stop. I reached for its sparkling surface, sat back on my heel, and offered the orb to Maritza. She measured her steps until she was within arms’ reach, then touched the side of my jaw with a fingernail painted cerulean blue.
Time stilled as I was plunged into a sense of wanting, unlike anything I had ever experienced before.
My hands shook with the desire to explore her figure. My gaze became entangled in the intricate web of black-on-black embroidery covering the surface of her dress. Blocky figures with elaborate headdresses, long tongues, and wild eyes danced across her belly.
I pressed my fingertips to the floor and looked up to where a sliver of metal toyed with the light of the setting sun. Maritza worried at her flawless lower lip, her front teeth bone white against matte aubergine, then raised one eyebrow and smiled.
I never wanted to take my eyes off of her.
Chapter 3
When Malvyn’s majordomo greeted me outside the doors to the dining room and informed me that my guest was here, I almost asked the name of this guest. And then I remembered, and in my remembering touched one earlobe and fussed with the catch on my mother’s heirloom earring. As I crossed the threshold from the muted hallway into the formal dining room, I beheld a sight I didn’t see every day.
Every object in the room was suffused in the cool gold rays of summer’s prolonged sunset. Framed within that ethereal light was the towering figure of a man.
The figure, exquisitely proportioned and exceptionally bald, turned. I dropped the diamond-encrusted ball with its tiny tail of broken chain and watched as a trail of sparkles followed the earring rolling in the man’s direction. He took the steps down from the raised area and went to his knee.
The center of my chest tore audibly along reinforced seams when he lifted his face to me. Spirits, nebulous busy-bodies who always hovered about, murmured their approval and brushed up my bare legs and arms, across my cheeks and over my throat. The man was offering me something and when his fingertips met my open palm, his eyes—storm gray and solemn—lightened.
I saw an angel not unlike the marble figures guarding the entrance to a burial tomb.
I saw an acolyte, poised to tend the altar at which he worshipped.
I saw adoration, the kind shared between lovers.
That possibility sent a shudder up my spine. I slowed my approach.
This was my apprentice, and it appeared entities beyond this realm had decreed that ours was going to be no ordinary, clinical, affiliation. “Alabastair Nekrosine, I think you and I are going to get along rather well,” I said. “Please, stand.”
He straightened his legs and waited, not breathing. I was quite used to being around bodies that were not breathing. I assumed Alabastair was here to dine, not die. I whispered, “You can exhale,” tilted my head, and removed the other earring. Malvyn could repair the broken one and check the integrity of its mate.
“I am delighted to meet you in person, Professor Brodeur.” Alabastair drew the curtain closed on whatever it was he might have just experienced and executed a perfect, modest bow. “May I get you something to drink? The watermelon agua fresca is delicious.”
“Please, call me Maritza. My mother will be very happy to hear you like her food. Be certain to let her know when you are introduced. As for me, I will have a glass of wine. Diego knows what I like,” I added, nodding my head toward the majordomo where he kept wait by the inner doors. “Have him bring our drinks to the seating area near the fireplace. I must go find another pair of earrings.”
And shake off whatever had just transpired, collect myself, and possibly rethink the wisdom of having a man such as Alabastair Nekrosine but two sets of doors away.
I passed the God of Death on the way back to my rooms. His stand rattled. Maybe he was a jealous god, one who would prefer I not dance with a younger man, especially one purportedly as talented as my apprentice. By the time my jewelry box opened to my command, I knew which set of earrings I would choose.
My mother would scold me for adorning myself as though I was going into battle. After meeting Alabastair—and feeling the spirit world’s continued enthusiasm at his presence—I desired to be armed, even if in miniature. I affixed the platinum backings, turned my head side to side and admired my brother’s handiwork.
Passing Mictlantecuhtli’s statue once again, I trailed my fingers across the cool stone of his squarish biceps and promised the god another dance, on another night.
Alabastair waited, enfolded within the overstuffed arms of a club chair, his white shirt luminous against the aged burgundy leather. His posture was neither overly
