Page 93 of Demon Apathy: Sunderverse
When a black limousine arrived and parked in front of us, a knot formed in my throat. Was I ready for this? I shook my head. This wasn’t time to doubt myself.
The driver, who turned out to be Giuseppe, got out, greeted us, and opened the back door. Drevan stepped out, and my breath knotted itself inside my throat. Would he ever stop leaving me breathless? I doubted it, and from the looks of Jenna’s pinched expression, it seemed her lungs had also forgotten how to function.
“Ladies,” he inclined his head with the charm of an old-world dandy. “Gentlemen,” he added, sparing a raised eyebrow for Sage and Benjamin.
Jenna’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she managed to say something I was sure she’d been planning since she read that note over my shoulder. “Why can’t Benjamin and I come? Aren’t we also part of the team?”
Drevan smiled crookedly. “Who said you weren’t coming?”
All the fight went out of Jenna and was replaced by giddy delight. “Do you have a job for us?”
“Maybe.”
Jenna beamed.
“Maybe not,” Drevan added, bursting her bubble.
Giuseppe popped the trunk and stashed our packages as we climbed in. The limousine’s interior was so fancy and high-tech that I felt completely out of place. This wassonot me. Across from me, Sage crossed his leg, looking quite at home. Jenna and Benjamin only looked mildly impressed.
“Where are we going?” I asked, noticing we were leaving Manhattan.
“To a very exclusive residential area in Mill Neck,” Drevan answered, his golden eyes looking at a far-away spot as we drove over the Williamsburg Bridge.
“Why?” Jenna asked.
“I’ll explain everything when we get there.”
Twenty minutes later, thanks to demon traffic magic, Giuseppe drove past a private gate and up a cobbled path, and parked in front of an enormous mansion. We stepped out of the limousine, and this time, everyone looked properly impressed. Open-mouthed, we stood in a courtyard flanked by perfectly manicured bushes on three sides, and a magnificent house on the other. Seven peaked roofs, dozens of narrow arched windows, five chimneys, cedar shingles, the whole nine yards.
Still gawking, we followed Drevan in and marveled at the elaborately decorated interior.
“Who built this place?” Jenna asked. “It’s amazing.”
Drevan guided us through several arched entryways, passing through an antechamber, reading room, and playroom to arrive at a wood-paneled study, decked with Persian rugs, comfortable sitting, a glowing fireplace, and a breathtaking view of a large body of water.
“Is that Oyster Bay?” Jenna asked, pointing out the window.
“It is,” Drevan said. “Make yourselves comfortable.” He removed his jacket and draped it over an armchair.
Before any of us could take a seat, a twenty-something blonde dressed in a sharp pantsuit walked in. She looked ready to lead an executive meeting, and I couldn’t imagine what she was doing here. When Drevan asked her to bring drinks and snacks, and she said, “Right away, sir,” I started to wonder if I’d entered a different dimension. Was that howthe helpdressed on this side of the world?
The food and drinks consisted of gourmet appetizers as fancy as the house. Sage wasted no time pouring himself a glass of wine and popping bacon-wrapped shrimp into his mouth. For my part, I went for the cheese-filled puff pastries, and considered taking the entire platter for myself, except Jenna seemed to like them too. Benjamin seemed too nervous to eat anything, and he just sat on an armchair, bouncing his knee, probably fearing what task, if any, Drevan had planned for him.
When we were all settled around a marble coffee table, Drevan stood in front of the massive fireplace and considered us. I did my best to stare at his face and not his wide shoulders and powerful thighs, which were impossible to ignore no matter what he wore.
“Tonight, it’s crucial,” he said, “and will require Lucia and Sage to test their acting abilities.”
“Acting abilities?” I echoed. Not again!
Drevan nodded and went on. “Let’s first talk about the guy you know as Richie. His real name is Richard Bamford III. He is a wealthy man of many generations and the curator for the Metropolitan Museum of Art.”
“What the…?!” Sage exclaimed. “My dad knows that guy. Are you serious?!”
“Very. The family fortune was built on illegal contraband of rare art pieces, and he continues his family tradition of selling such items to the highest bidder.”
Jenna pushed to the edge of the sofa. “How do you put pressure on a guy like that?”
Drevan smiled as if he’d eaten all the cookies from the cookie jar. “I have just the scheme,” he turned to me, “but it will depend on you to make it succeed.” As if on second thought, he glanced at Sage. “And you.”
