The Spellbound State of the Universe

Chapter 11

Sheera hid out in the kitchen as minutes passed by like hours, grateful that the chef had no interest in serving dessert; instead he'd abandoned the staff in a thankless huff, and the atmosphere was all the better for it.

Unfortunately the lack of yelling wasn't enough to calm Sheera's nerves.

Every time Clément or one of the other servers came into the kitchen, she thought it was Gabriel Asher, there to kill her with a zap of a finger for invading their party like a no-good spy. Or worse yet, kidnap her until she led them to the other 'Kindreds' so he could kill them all. In other words she had killing-related scenarios on the mind.

The next person to come through to the kitchen was Luke, his hair now tousled and face stamped with lipstick marks.

"Don't judge me," he said, already sounding defensive. "I was just keeping up my role so as to not get us killed."

It was comforting to know that one of them had kept up the charade, she thought guiltily.

"What's wrong?" he said, when he noticed her staring off into nothing.

She glanced behind him through the kitchen door's window.

"Are they still out there? Is there more?"

"It's done," he confirmed, using a wet cloth to rub the lipstick off his face, the reflection from a stainless steel pot lid as his guide.

Clément approached them and handed Luke a neatly folded stack of euros. "The ladies insisted I tip you directly," he said rolling his eyes.

Luke took the wad of cash and stared at it blankly, the money seeming almost meaningless after witnessing the glee for destruction in the Shadowers' blackened hearts. He sighed and stuffed the money into his pocket. "Thanks," he said, nodding to Clément. "Some money for the fund, I guess." He was referring to the safe in Madam Quillfern's study where all the money for things like 'Kindred' recruitment and food and electricity was stored. Everyone knew that the fund was almost solely supplied by the generous heart of Madam Quillfern and some family money she'd inherited, so it was always nice when a fellow Kindred could make a contribution here or there.

He finished wiping his face and gestured to Sheera. "Let's go," he said. "We can leave out the front this time."

He turned back to shake Clément's hand. "Thanks for everything, mate."

"Did you get the information you required?" he asked, though he was clearly indifferent to whatever the response might be.

Luke's features strained into a frown. "Unfortunately...yes."

Clément approached Sheera for the French goodbye kisses on either cheek. "Give Orisa my regards, will you?'

Sheera nodded but she barely heard him.

"And tell her to call me!" he added as they disappeared into the corridor.

Besides the receiving door, the only other way to exit the hotel was through the ballroom and out the front entrance. It was safe now with all of the Shadowers gone, but the empty ballroom in serious need of a cleaning left Sheera with a feeling of unease.

She didn't dare say anything Kindred-related to Luke, lest they were somehow being watched, but she found it difficult to keep a cool head so she sped walk past him to avoid saying a word.

"Slow down!" called out Luke.

Sheera ignored him and rushed outside to breathe in the cool night air. The Shadowers who had been guarding the hotel entrance had left along with everyone else, and aside from a few cars whizzing past and the random drunken cries that were typical of a night in Paris, all was still.