Chapter 7

A Misplaced Painting Returns

 

One of the head matrons in New Orleans society was throwing a gala to raise money for the only public school in the Quarter, and as the owners of a lucrative business in the French Quarter, Devlyn and Katerina had managed to score an invite to the fancy party. Antebellum costumes were required. Devlyn and Katerina had grinned at each other over the invitation, and had immediately had their period-marked trunks fetched from the attic. If they were to dress in costume, it was damn well going to be authentic.

Katerina’s dress was a deep red chiffon, too deep to be called merely crimson, with rich black lace and silk, with long black gloves stretching to her elbows. Her hair was blonde, a light platinum blonde that should have been fine to the touch, but was soft and thick piled atop her head in an elegantly twisted coiffure. Her lips were dark enough to match the perfect shade of her dress, her eyes were dark and smoky enough to be alluring. She looked lethal, but as though such a death was filled with enough pleasure to be worth every moment of pain.

Devlyn was decked out in teal, the perfect shade to match the hue of her eyes when she was happy. The dresses were similar in style, though cut different to accommodate and fit perfectly with each woman’s body type. Like Katerina’s, Devlyn’s dress had bronze threaded lattice work hand-stitched into the bodice and along the hem of her skirt to match. They had swept her hair up into a high queue of curls to drape down her neck and back. 

Devlyn’s lace was a bronze that had cost them an absolute fortune to have made, with gloves to match. Her eye make-up was exaggerated to have her tilted eyes look more exotic. Her lips were a glossy, pearlescent plum-magenta mix. She looked beautiful and radiant, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like a princess.

However, going through the doors of the townhome proved to be more cumbersome than she remembered. “However did we do this every day for so many bloody years?” she huffed.

“Because we did it every day for so many bloody years,” Katerina replied dryly back with a smug little grin while watching Devlyn try to flounce about.

“Then how come I can’t seem to do it now?” she asked, exasperated.

“Because since then you’ve discovered pants. And neither I, nor Bane for that matter, seem to be able to get you out of them.”

Katerina received a dark glare for her effort at being funny, though she knew she was right.

This gala was a bad idea. She knew it. She felt it. Owning a popular bar was one thing. Signing her name on donation checks was one thing. Attending a public function dressed like an extra from Gone with the Wind was quite another.

“You really think this is a good idea?” she asked Katerina again as they rode in a horse-drawn carriage from their apartment, around Jackson Square, and all through the Vieux Carré so the tourists could see the parade of Southern ladies and gentlemen decked out in their best hooped skirts and cravats, to finally draw to a stop before a large Antebellum mansion in the Garden District. One thing was certain: when these Cajuns threw a party, they knew how to do it with all the trimmings and flairs!

“Of course. How better to get your mind off that dratted handsome man of yours than a party? Besides, it’s not as though it’s Mardi Gras.”

Her friend had a point. The crowd was not so fanatical on this humid October evening. But still. It was a little muggy. She itched. Her breasts were exposed more than she preferred, and she did not feel like doing the bloody Virginia Reel tonight.

“Please, Dev,” Katerina implored softly. Devlyn saw the pleading look in her best friend’s eyes. Katerina needed this, she realized. The fun, the gaiety, all the chances for seduction were in line tonight, in a different setting than the bar.

“Of course,” she said with a slight but genuine smile. “I will quit whining and liven my mood! I promise we will have a sensational night!” she assured her brightly. This was an opportunity for fun and the frivolous. They both looked amazing, their dresses were fabulous, and Devlyn was now determined not to be a stick in the mud.

The smile remained on her face as the carriage stopped in front of the white columned house. Lights were set up to illuminate and give the impression the house was literally glowing. The women were photographed making their way onto the porch. The very least this was good promotion for the club, Devlyn reminded herself.

“Oh, you two look sensational!” Vivienne LeClaire exclaimed as they met her by the door. Vivienne had been one of New Orleans’ most charming beauties in her day, had been Miss Louisiana during her brief time in college, but in the fifteen years since then, she had endeavored to be a first lady of the city, and since her husband was now a high political official, she had succeeded. He had his trophy wife, and oh how she shined.

“Thank you, Vivi,” Devlyn said graciously as she gave the woman a quick peck on the cheek. She’d liked Vivi from the start when the woman had shown up to help her begin renovations on the old, dilapidated building that would become the club. Vivi was also the reason she and Katia had been included on the guest list.

“Vivi, I’ve got to say you do look breathtaking yourself,” Katia purred. Vivienne was going to be a project, Katerina decided. Either through that pigheaded husband of hers, or a real gentleman who was actually worthy of her. Vivienne was the kind of person who deserved to be happy, and Katerina was determined to see that it happened. Through whatever means necessary.

“Thank you so much, Kat. Go on inside now, Mrs. Toussaint is showing off her latest purchase. This really divine painting. It’s the centerpiece of the evening,” she finished with a giggle. It was a long-standing New Orleans joke that Mrs. Toussaint had an obsession with portraits of the era. The question was usually the validity of the painting.

Vivienne walked off in a flounce of lace and taffeta, while the girls continued their way into the house. Katerina loosely grabbed Devlyn’s shoulder at the doors,

As they walked in all the way, they were greeted by lights from the chandelier, and a violinist in the corner playing Dixie tunes, with the rest of his sextet sitting behind him. Katerina watched as Devlyn’s eyes lit to sparkling. She really did love this southern bit. Not like her, who would much rather be in the rolling greens of Ireland. But everyone had that place that appealed deep in their heart. America just happened to be Devlyn’s, though Russia held something else for her as well. But that was just entertaining her libido.

 “Mrs. Toussaint,” Katerina greeted first to the older woman, all decked out in her Southern best, baring a remarkable resemblance to Aunt Pitty Pat. “How are you doing this evening, madam?”

The heavyset woman wriggled her fan towards each lady. “Fah, shame on you! You two will cause a larger sensation than my new painting!” Mr. Toussaint’s family were old school Creole who believed no man was a good man, except a Frenchman, and had married their eldest son to a fine, rich bride from the old country. Though she had lived in America more than half a century, Marie refused to lose her accent. In fact, at events like this, she emphasized it.

“What new painting, madam?” Devlyn asked in French, knowing the old woman’s preference.

“I have just come across an unknown Renaldi,” she answered excitedly.

Devlyn and Katia exchanged worried glances. Renaldi had been Kris’s real surname, centuries ago, prior to turning demon. He’d painted after his natural death as well, but the ladies tried to keep those well contained. Renaldi had been a brilliant artist, even more so during his mad affair with Ana, amongst their entourage. If Mrs. Toussaint had a previously undiscovered Renaldi, then this was so not good.

“Do we get to see it?” Katerina asked with false excitement.

“Absolutely. Follow me, dears.” Following the hostess of a party meant greetings and introductions, and a journey of a hundred feet lasting nearly half an hour. Fortunately, guests were still arriving, and only half of those present demanded their attention. Watching the older woman move around in her hooped dress, Devlyn decided Mrs. Toussaint could easily have been transplanted two hundred years prior, and have fit right in.

“Ah, finally,” she sighed with a flourish. “My latest acquisition.”

. Devlyn’s eyes bulged in her head, but she remained silent, since the shocked sound escaping from Katia was loud enough for the both of them. “Famiglia di Tre,” Devlyn said breathlessly before Katerina jabbed her in the ribs with an elbow.

Mrs. Toussaint blanched. “How on earth did you know that?” she demanded.

“I’m a fan,” she replied absently, still staring aghast. That picture was supposed to be hanging above a mantle in a forgotten castle in Moldova. It had gone missing about three hundred years before, in one of their numerous trips through the 1800s. Back then the group tended to time-jump and explore different countries through the ages.

It was a portrait of Katerina, Aren, and Devlyn, done by Kris as a Christmas gift to the three of them since they had no portraits of Aren and Katerina together, obviously. Both ladies were dressed in opulent gowns and adorned with jewels. They looked like royalty.

What marked a Renaldi was not always the details he put into his portraits, but the minute details that went into the background. This group was all elegance as a war was transpiring behind them, a dark, sinister knight on horseback charging towards them, the trio seemingly completely oblivious to the events around them.

 “Wh-where did you get that?” Devlyn barely got out, her shock was paramount.

“From the most charming art collector I found a few weeks ago in New York City. He had a wonderful little gallery that I just happened to wander into when I went on my annual trip there. And I saw this, and I just fell in love with it. Or rather, with him,” she said with emphasis as she pointed to Aren’s likeness.

Devlyn let out a short, brittle laugh that was clearly uncomfortable. Katerina was still silent, relearning how to breathe after the whoosh of her previous shock.

“I can hardly believe it’s a genuine Renaldi, but I’ve had it verified. And I must say, girls, the collector himself is quite hot. Oh, I just have to fan myself thinking about him.”

“That good, Mrs. Toussaint? And what did Mr. Toussaint say to that?”

“Nothing, dears. What he doesn’t know, doesn’t hurt him,” she said with a young girl’s smile. “And, Devlyn, I’d love to introduce you to the collector. He’s young. He’d be perfect for you. No doubt, he’s quite well-endowed,” she said with a wink. At Devlyn’s staggered look, she corrected herself. “Money-wise, of course.”

“Is he here?” Katerina asked.

“Yes, darling. Somewhere around here. He had mentioned that he was going to be in town during this event, so naturally, I invited him. He’s one of the guests of honor this evening. Like I said, his collection was superb. And his knowledge even more vast.

“Well, my charming dears, more people are streaming in the door, and I must be the gracious host I’m reputed to be. I’d hate for the gossip to think that I’d traded in my manners just to dander around with the two of you,” she said with a laugh as she flounced her skirts off towards the door. The social scene of society still had quite an effect, even in modern times.

Both women looked back at the painting. The painting of them. “How?” was all Katerina could muster out of her lips. This wasn’t possible. The last time they had seen this painting, it had been ages ago, in eastern Europe. It didn’t make a damn bit of sense that it should show up here, now, three centuries later. 

Devlyn glared at Katerina. “What the bloody hell are we supposed to do? I don’t think anyone has put together that it’s us, though. And as long as your brother doesn’t make an appearance tonight or socialize with these people for a few weeks, I think we shall be alright. But, we’ve got to get the damn thing back.”

Katerina nodded. “I agree. And we’ve got to go confront this art dealer and find out who is source is, and whoever that is needs to be put to a stop. Permanently. We cannot risk your hide this far along in the game.”

It was rare for Katerina to take on her ruthless persona, but it was always there underneath the surface. When need arose, her best friend could be merciless, and that need could be found in the form of protecting Devlyn and their anonymity. Devlyn wasn’t sure she personally possessed enough gumption to kill a human, but she was grateful that Katerina had no such qualms. Killing humans, even ones who deserved it, went against something integral inside of her.

“Absolutely. Thank you. But how are we going to steal this dratted thing from Mrs. Toussaint and erase everyone’s minds that she has bragged about it to?”

Katerina shrugged. Changing a human’s memory was not a difficult task, even altering this entire party would not be a challenge, but tracking down everyone else involved would be a daunting feat. “I’m sure if we asked, Kris could give us some other obscure painting of his that he has kept. Slightly alter things to make the memory of the painting vague, and then replace it quickly, and oh my gods!” Katerina’s eyes grew round.

“What is it, Katia?” Devlyn asked, discreetly turning around to see what had her friend in such a state of astonishment.

Katerina grabbed Devlyn by the elbow and moved her into the shadows to both hide and get a better, more discreet view. “Look!”

Devlyn continued to search the crowd, but nothing really looked out of the ordinary. “What? I don’t see what has you so upset, Kat, what’s�"”

“Shut up! D****t, look! It’s him.”

Devlyn looked in the direction of Katerina's extended pointer finger, but she really couldn’t see much through the swarm of people. That, and there was that gentleman with his back to her, arm around some tiny figure in a purple hooped dress, who was standing in the way of her seeing anything beyond him in that direction.

“What? I don’t see anything. That guy’s blocking my view.”

Katerina stared at her. “That is who you’re supposed to be looking at, you idiot!”

Devlyn glared, but surveyed the gentleman. Clean, crisp attire, dark hair clubbed back, long enough she could run her fingers through it passed his ears. She appraised him with her eyes, but the more she saw, the more she knew that that body was permanently stamped in her mind anyway. That backside, she’d never forget. And that arm was around some other floozy’s waist!

“Umm… umm… Katia… I…uh, I don’t have to say anything right now, do I? Because seriously, nothing’s coming to mind.” She looked at him and wasn’t sure which emotion to feel just then, they were all coming at her so damn fast. There was anger, jealousy, a slight case of possession, and a bit of loss. There were so many swimming there, and she wasn’t sure which wave to ride. Then she watched as the redhead slid her hand up his arm, played with his hair, and whispered something in his ear that caused a sly smile to appear on his face. Then that damn hand snaked down to rest on his buttocks.

“Oh, that tramp!” Devlyn huffed before starting off toward him, ready to rip every hair one by one out of that s**t’s head then choke her with it.

Katia quickly grabbed a hold of her and swung her back. “What the hell do ya think you’re doing, Dev?” she asked harshly. “Don’t you dare go up to him and make an a*s out of yourself in public like this! You damn twit.”

“So I just have to stand here and watch her hit on him?”

“If either one of us does anything, all it will accomplish is letting him know that this is getting to you. Do you really want that, luv? Do you want him to know you’re jealous?”

Devlyn’s eyes rounded. “I am not jealous!” she whispered harshly. “It’s just…. Katia, he’s supposed to be mine.”

“So he is supposed to pine over you for all eternity, is that it?”

She shook her head. “No. But if he’s going to demand that I forsake everything to be his wife, then he better damn well not show up in public with a bimbo draped across his arm.”

Katerina looked Devlyn up and down, then stared her right in the eyes. “You cannot claim possession of him, Devlyn, if you do not allow him to do the same for you. If you make a public claim on him right now, you’re admitting the very thing you’re fighting.”

Katerina walked away, over toward a group of lawyers and judicial workers. She loved politics in all shapes and forms, and had already befriended quite a number in the group. Devlyn, meanwhile, decided to go over and stand with Vivienne and keep her company as she greeted those remaining stragglers who were just walking through the door. She didn’t want to have to see Bane with the redhead. D****t, she needed a date!

“So, what did you think of Mrs. Toussaint’s painting?” Vivienne giggled.

Devlyn sighed. How the hell was she supposed to answer that? She wondered. “It is quite beautiful. I’ve always been a fan of Renaldi.” An understatement. Since the first time she had seen his work, met him at a social engagement,  the painter had raised her curiosity. Shortly after inviting him into her world-traveling entourage, Ana had seen fit to make him a permanent resident. “I wonder what else of his work is hidden in the bowels of art dealing.”

Vivienne smiled, no doubt thrown off by Devlyn’s snide tone. “I confess that I am not much of an art enthusiast, and my knowledge of Renaldi is limited to my one class in art appreciation fifteen years ago that I didn’t pay much attention to in the first place. But it is neat to be standing so close to something so valuable. Like standing next to a Monet, you know?”

There was nothing wrong not caring about classic art, but Devlyn’s nerves were already on edge because of the odious man on the other side of the room, so Vivienne’s confession was unappreciated. Kris deserved more respect than that, she felt. “I’m surprised she did come across it. And that she could afford to do so. Most pieces of art like that sell for a absolute fortune on the black market.”

Vivienne looked across the space in Bane’s direction. “You think he’s really some nefarious black market dealer?”

Devlyn smirked at the thought. “Maybe, but don’t you dare mention the theory to Mrs. Toussaint. The woman would have a fit to be accused of something so disreputable.”

“Oh, she has a fit about everything,” Vivienne dismissed with a wave of her polished hand. “She hasn’t spoken more’n ten words to me since I ordered lilies instead of orchids for this. It’s been hell ever since. All the more reason to do it, I think.”

Devlyn merely nodded. Vivienne had too much spunk to be married to that chauvinistic pig, she really did. He appreciated her only in the most base capacity. She was fit to keep his house, bare his children, and manage his and her social life, but anything beyond that she apparently lacked the mental capacity to facilitate it. She had limited say in the raising of their children, any sort of financial decisions, and heaven forbid she inquire about his work.

A hand appeared on her arm. Devlyn turned around to see Mrs. Toussaint with a devious expression on her face. “Vivienne, Devlyn, won’t you come meet the art dealer? I want to introduce Devlyn to him. Don’t you think they would make a marvelous pair, Vivienne?”

Vivienne smiled and gave Devlyn a playful wink. It was no secret that Mrs. Toussaint fancied herself an excellent matchmaker, and it seemed no one was impervious to her machinations. Together the three ladies walked over to the circle that Bane in which Bane was the center. “Excuse me, gentlemen, and…lady,” Mrs. Toussaint began quite brazenly with a slight sneer for the woman on Bane’s arm. It appeared that it wasn’t only Devlyn’s dislike she had attained. “I would like to introduce one of New Orleans’ most popular new entrepreneurs Ms. Devlyn Aria. Devlyn, this is the art collector I was raving about earlier, Mr. Nikolas Maksim.”

“Mr. Maksim, what a pleasurable experience it is to meet you,” she lied breathlessly. Devlyn extended her hand, as was courtesy, and he took it, palm down, and laid a soft kiss on the top of her gloved hand. Thank the gods it was gloved, just so he wouldn’t feel the quickening of her pulse as she stared in his eyes. Her throat tightened in that choking way it did when she was nervous. Oh bloody hell. She was not Katerina, so adept at subterfuge that occasions like running into an ex didn’t even register on her radar. How she wished she could be that strong.

“No, Ms. Aria, I must say, the pleasure this evening is all mine, believe me.”

By the wicked gleam in his eyes, Devlyn had no doubt that that was, indeed, just the case this evening. He was having a damn good time, she was sure of it. She smiled sweetly at him, though, because there were more than one or two pairs of eyes on them at that moment. And Devlyn wasn’t about to let him ruin her fabulous night. She looked beautiful. If he wanted to act like an a*****e, he could. It would have no effect on her. Whatsoever. At least, that was the plan.

“And I must say, Ms. Aria, you do look most beautiful tonight,” he said, his charm laid on as heavy as the heated gaze he swept over her, from her face down to her cleavage, then back again to meet her eyes. He pronounced her “last” name as it would be said at the ending of her full name, instead of how it was said standing alone. Doing that, it became more personal, not like he was speaking to this façade, this visage, but rather, to her, the real Devlynaria. And it did all the wrong things to her.

Bane watched her reactions, judged them by the look in her eyes, and he knew he was doing the right thing tonight. She could not have him tonight. He would be charming, arrogant, and utterly unattainable. He saw that he had made a wise decision by having Teena on his arm tonight. She was calm on the exterior, but he’d seen through the corner of his eyes how Katerina had had to grab her before she unleashed her venom on the two of them. He smiled inwardly. Yes, a grand decision that had been.

Katerina watched them from her group afar, under her half-mast eyelashes. Things were progressing well, it seemed. He was kissing out of her palm, almost. That was good. She had felt from the first night in the club that he loved Devlyn�"that emotion had been emanating from him all along, but as the days passed, those initial feelings only intensified. Oddly enough, him chasing her down here was only making him fall in love with her more. She could also feel that Devlyn's affections were really not that far behind his. She didn’t feel quite as strongly as he did, but that would come in time, she supposed. She didn’t know him very well. But there was chemistry, heat there. A strong, deep, powerful heat that Devlyn really couldn’t hide, no matter how hard she tried. She cared for this man, and that knowledge made all the difference in the world in Katia’s decision to help and interfere.

“Ever feel like you were cast as the sidekick, my sister?”

“Yes, brathair.  Sometimes, I really do. Though I know she doesn’t mean to do it.”

“What? You mean steal the limelight? Yes, I know. She doesn’t want all of the attention. Just his.”

“She’s doing well enough of that, it seems.”

“So, Katerina, are you having a fine time tonight?” asked a voice from her right. She turned to see Christian Harris, plastic surgeon, and potential candidate. He was reasonably tall, dark, with clear green eyes laced with dark lashes. He was every bit scrumptious, his only drawback being that he seemed to genuinely like her company, not just her body. She only pulled one-nighters with other men who also sought one-night stands. She didn’t dabble with the rare men who were legitimately worthy of sentiment and affection. That was how the good ones became tarnished and rotted off the tree.

“Christian Harris, how lovely to see you. You look quite handsome tonight.”

He, too, grabbed her wrist and pressed his lips upon the top of her hand, letting it linger a second or two longer than necessary. “If I look handsome, then you, my dear, look absolutely breathtaking. You look as though you were born to wear that dress.”

She smiled despite herself. “You are a charmer, aren’t you?”

“Only when I think it will reward me,” he countered, eyes dancing and smiling. Katerina was enjoying herself until she saw such an innocent look in the eyes of a very delicious man. It nearly killed her to have to do it. She couldn’t continue their verbal dance. She could not bring herself to break his heart. To break his, would be to break hers as well, and d****t, her heart wasn’t solid by any means as it was.

“Christian, dear, what do you think of Vivienne Mason?”

“Vivi? I went to high school with her brother. She’s really sweet, very pretty, married to that a*****e Thomas LeClaire.”

“No, what do you think of Vivienne?”

He looked at her, slightly taken aback.

Katerina looked at the couple on the other side of the room out of the corner of her eye. Her role in this escapade mattered almost as much as theirs did. If she had known all along what was going on, she would have encouraged Devlyn to make the right decisions, and she damn well would not have let herself deplete like she had. But now she knew what was at stake. She needed to start hoarding and reserving her powers now, so that she could pull off the con of the millennia.

 “Yes, Christian. She’s a beautiful woman, still in her prime. Haven’t you ever thought of her in that way?” she stressed.

He shook his head. “Not since high school, I don’t think. She married that a*****e, and I never looked at her the same.”

No, you couldn’t, now could you? She thought in her head. Clearly, this was going to be easier and harder at the same time. Her instincts were as apt as ever, she knew, because there already was groundwork of feelings established there. A high school romance that had never had the fortune to blossom. That made the task ahead of her easier. However, both of them were proper, mannered, down-to-earth good Christian people. It would take a great deal of work just to get them to consider an affair, much less act upon it. But oh, how she loved a good challenge!

“Well, I think she is-just-lovely,” she purred. “Her husband is lousy. She deserves a man who will treat her well. One she can give to and get in return.”

“She made her bed. Let her lie in it,” he said bitterly as he took a sip of the cognac in his glass.

“Alright,” she replied dismissively, thinking in her head that she was only going to lie in his bed. “Well, I must circulate. If seen spending too much time talking to you, rumors neither of us would appreciate might begin,” she said with a smile. Leave him only with his thoughts and his alcohol. Let him stew over it. Let the words, meanings, feelings, set it.

She made her way around the room, slowly, cautiously, until she was at Vivienne’s side without seeming like she had left Christian for her. “Vivienne, my dear! Did you see who showed up here?”

“Well, I think I’ve seen everyone who’s walked through that door. Who are you talking about?”

“Christian Harris! Didn’t you see him? That is one handsome man right there!”

“Yes, he is,” replied Vivienne, with almost the sound of dejection in his voice. “And he’s sweet as can be too. He was friends with my brother James Allen. They played football together. He went off to college, and I got married. I haven’t seen him around too often, though, since he’s been back into town. He left for quite awhile. He’s only been back perhaps six months. And I don’t really have a reason to seek him out, so I’ve only come across him at events like this, and that’s when he does come.”

“Really?” was all Katerina could say. Damn but that was a lot of information to process! “So, did the two of you ever date back then?”

“Christian and me? Heavens no! He was the Smart Guy, the Popular Guy, and I was a couple of years behind him in school. All I ever was to him would have been James Allen’s little sister,” she brushed off.

“Somehow, I really doubt that, Vivienne. I really doubt that,” she stressed. As a muse, she really was not allowed to interfere with freewill. She could not just make two people who were strongly opposed to one another love or lust after one another. She could only play on a thread that was already present. Or else implant such a thread. However, she was strictly forbidden from creating and then manipulating feelings and emotions. To do so would be to bring down the wrath of her Transformer, as she liked to call him, much to his chagrin.

She walked away from Vivi in search of Devlyn. Maybe she was doing something entertaining.

 

“Are you done with the etiquette yet?” Devlyn asked him through clenched teeth, yanking her hand back and laying it at her side. She resisted the strong urge to wipe her hand on her dress, as much as she really wanted to do so. But that would only give him more ammunition, and he already had quite the arsenal. He mocked her plenty enough as it was.

“My dear Aria, are you losing your patience with me?” he asked in that infuriatingly mocking tone of his.

“That, Nick, would require me giving you more than a passing thought,” she snapped back at him.

“Oh, how I wish that worked both ways. It certainly would make my current existence a hell of a lot easier. If I had no more than a passing thought for you, I certainly would be getting much more play than I have been receiving lately.” He paused for a moment, smiled wickedly, and added, “But then, I do have the ability to suppress those more-than-fleeting thoughts. Have a lovely evening, Devlyn.”

He gave her a slight bow, meeting her eyes the entire time, but she was unable to read them. She didn’t know him well enough to distinguish those looks of his. She knew the obvious ones, but even with those, she didn’t know the thought process behind them, and she never knew what he was going to do next. It made things so bloody unfair. The cheerful and sexy man she had fallen for all those years ago had been too carefree to be the calculating creature she was staring at now.

Devlyn watched him walked away. It was all she could do, really, merely watch him. Watch him as he walked over to that woman in the purple, as he placed his hand in the small of her back and whispered something in her ear that made her throw her head back and laugh. A tight knot formed in Devlyn’s stomach.

Katerina walked up to stand beside her. “Everything alright, luv?” she asked, head tilted in inquiry. She looked at her best friend, and couldn’t tell what she was really feeling. The look on her face, in her eyes, said something akin to sadness, but her posture, with her muscles rigid, her fists clenched tightly, said anger, absolute anger.

Devlyn looked back at her, eyes teary, trying to fight off the inevitable rivers threatening to flood her cheeks. “He, he looked at me. And I couldn’t read it. I’m going to have to spend eternity married to a man I know absolutely nothing about. Other than that he….” She looked around trying to find the right words. “He just gets under my skin in the worst ways!” She unclenched her hands. “Oh Gods, I’m bleeding.”

Katerina looked down at Devlyn’s hands and saw the small pools of blood that were forming from half-moon shapes in the middle of her palms. This wasn’t a good sign, for any of them. Devlyn was not supposed to bleed, at least not from damage such as this.

“Ex-excuse me, Kat. I’ve got to go take care of this before I ruin my dress with blood,” she said somewhat breathlessly, completely distracted in her own thoughts.

Katerina watched as she walked out of the room, then swung back around to find the b*****d that was responsible for her friend. And there he was, hands playing at the ends of her hair. Oh, he wanted to duel tonight, did he? Well, Devlyn’s sword might not be sharp enough for tonight’s fight, but Katerina knew that both of hers could cut with but a look.

Katerina whispered in the woman’s head. Being a muse had so many perks sometimes, even with all the fine print, and she set her lips in a small, triumphant smile as she watched Bane’s date follow her every carefully-implanted suggestion. The woman’s hips swayed a bit too provocatively as she made her way over to the punch bowl, suddenly parched beyond belief.

Slyly, deftly, Katerina followed. “A lovely party isn’t it?” she asked as she poured her own glass.

“Oh, yes. I’ve never been a guest at one of these events myself, but I was so thrilled when Alek asked me.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Alek Maksim. I’m Katia, by the way.”

“Oh, my, that’s exotic! I’m Teena Connor. Do you know Alek?”

“By association, yes.”

“From that woman in teal? Who is she?” Teena asked boldly, meeting Katerina’s eyes squarely. The woman had backbone, she’d give her that.

“That is his Aria. Devlyn Aria.”

“His? He’s not old enough to be her father, is he?”

Well, he was, technically, by a couple thousand years, but that was neither here nor there. “No, hon, she’s not his daughter. She’s his wife.”

“His…wife?” she asked.

Bingo. “In a matter of speaking, yes. Neither wants it at the moment. It was a shotgun wedding, I believe is what you call it down here.”

Teena glared at his back from across the room. “He didn’t tell me. Why don’t they just divorce if neither wants it?”

“Because he still loves her, very, very much. And eventually, she will realize that she does too. I mean, look at her! She’s absolutely breathtaking, so beautiful. She is his match in spirit, in temperament, in all things. They just don’t realize it.”

The emotions flickered over Teena’s face, and Katerina knew she had gone perhaps too far. They didn’t need a scene from this woman tonight. “There’s no need to be angry with him. He has delivered on everything he promised you. I just thought you should know where you stand.”

“So did he bring me here tonight just to make her jealous?”

Katerina gave a graceful shrug of her shoulder, eyes incredibly innocuous for someone so devious. “I doubt it. I don’t think they were expecting to run into the other tonight,” she half-lied. She knew damn well that Bane had known they would be here; she had no doubt of that. Devlyn, on the other hand, was as surprised as hell.

The girl seemed to accept that well enough. Katerina could almost visibly feel her relax and her emotions stabilize. Oh, thank the gods, she thought. Having a hysterical woman on her hands was not her idea of a good time. Her excuse for talking to the woman was gone, but the matter just did not seem finished yet. After all, this woman was encroaching on Devlyn’s property, whether she wished to claim that property or not. Katerina found that reason enough to mess with her head.

“You are such a lovely thing. Why are you wasting your time with someone like Alek in the first place?”

“What do you mean ‘waste’?” she asked with a tinge of something like sarcasm in her voice. “Have you seen the man?”

“Have you?” she countered. “I mean, you just look so young to be dating a man with hair plugs. If you look real close to his scalp, you can tell.” Katerina did her damnedest not to actually laugh or so much as crack a smile as the woman squinted to see said hair plugs from across the room. It was an amusing site to say the least.

“Are you sure?” Teena asked skeptically.

“He’s several feet away. You can’t tell from here, but trust me. And seriously, Viagra can only do so much, and one can’t depend on it every single night, you know?” she said breezily. Oh, this was too damn funny. If she didn’t stop soon, she was not going to be able to keep from laughing.

The lady opened her mouth, started to say something, then closed it again. Her brows furrowed more. Finally, after several moments of indecisive pause, she said, “You know, I think I should just go home. Either you’re telling me the truth, and I don’t want to mess with that, or you’re lying to me for some reason. Either way, it’s just not worth it. I have enough drama in my life without adding someone else’s. He may be good, but I’m not sure he’s worth it.”

A genuinely sly smile spread across Katerina’s lips. “A divine thought, my dear. One day she will wake up and realize what he means to her, and she will take stock of every indiscretion he was stupid enough to partake of, and you really don’t want to be on that list.”

Teena nodded her head. “Yeah. Thanks. Have a great night.”

Katerina watched as Teena walked over to Bane, hands around her stomach, obviously feigning a stomach problem. Good job, honey, Katerina thought inwardly. The girl was smarter than she had given her credit for being. She saw through Katerina’s bullshit, but was also smart enough to realize that the bullshitting was for a reason. She liked it when people could make the right decision on their own. It was so much less work that way.

Bane smiled tightly, kissed Teena on the cheek, and slipped her money for a cab. Then he turned and his eyes met Katerina’s from across the room with a deeply heated glare. If looks could kill…well, she would have been burned to a crisp just then. He knew where the blame went for Teena’s “illness.”

Katerina smiled at him demurely. She had faced the wrath of crueler things than a War god, including his brother, and it would take a lot more than a dirty look to intimidate her. However, she wasn’t totally stupid, and she knew that to push him too far, and he wouldn’t care about the amnesty that being friends with Devlyn granted her. He was still superior, and he would enjoy reminding her of that superiority if given the chance. She went off to find Devlyn.

It was quite easy to find her. She had gone back to stare at the painting. Quite oblivious to those around her, including the ones giving her peculiar looks for staring at one damn picture for twenty minutes, Devlyn’s eyes devoured every facet of an artwork that had been given to her as a gift long ago. Surely it couldn’t be that riveting, Katerina thought.

“What’s the problem, Devlyn? You’re looking at that painting as though it has sprouted horns and claimed itself your progeny.”

Devlyn stared harder as those details formed into shapes she had not bothered to notice in the past. Remarkable, how that pitiful beggar looked like Bysis, goddess of time, and the man laying dead in the lane looked like Enchi, the child cowering behind a bush had Jinx’s remarkable green eyes, the woman standing in horror had the face of her mother. One of the scavengers grinning maniacally held the same features as her sister Corsail. Devlyn’s eyes consumed the painting in horror. That knight. That knight had midnight blue eyes.

Devlyn squeezed Katerina’s arm. “Oh, Kat,” she said in a dismal whisper. “We’ve got to talk.” She drug Katia over to the far side of the ballroom, away from prying eyes and wondering ears. “That picture was never meant as a gift.”

Katia looked puzzled. “What are you talking about, Dev? That’s the same picture Kris did of us years ago, it’s just weathered a bit. What’s wrong?”

“Did you never notice the background?”

“That war? Hideous scene I know, but the French Revolution was going on at the time, and we were all weary of the suffering. It affected us all, even from Moldova.”

Devlyn still shook her head. “That’s not what he painted. That was a warning of what’s to come. Gods,  how did I not see it?”

“See what? What are you babbling about?”

“Those villagers are gods. My family, Time, Fertility, the Sun. Every extra in that painting is a deity. Or a faust. Or a demon. The Divine, the Souled, and the Unsouled. That background is the massacre that is to come.”

 

Author's Note

We're not going to end the chapter here, I promise. There is more to come on this... It's just not written yet.