At the end of the hall, two solid wood doors opened to a room that was much more familiar to Jo. Gone were the detailing and lavish designs. In its place was a floor that looked like obsidian, but must have been some kind of black, polished cement. A round table made of the same material was framed by eight executive-style chairs. They were appropriately made of matching black leather. It was the sort of thing you’d expect to find in a mob boss’s hideaway or CEO’soffice.
“We only ever meet here when a wish comesin.”
A wish?The question sat heavy on her tongue. Despite her desire to ask it, however, she found herself frustratingly silent. Jofrowned.
“Snow—you met him before you got here—briefs us on the details of thewish.”
Jo wondered how often that happened, but again found herself unable toask.
“Back here, this is the Door. Capital ‘D’. It’s the only one here that really matters because it’s the only wayoutside.”
“The only way outside. . .” she repeated, focusing on the steel door and alphanumeric keypad attached to thelock.
“But we’ll get to all that later,” Wayne said off-handedly, as if it wasn’t the most important thing he’d said so far. “Let’s go back to the Four-Way.”
Jo wanted to ask what he meant by “Four-Way” but she couldn’t seem to formulate her question right. By the time she thought she’d figured it out, they were back in the atrium with the tall windows, and Jo had heranswer.
To her left was the stairway they’d come from initially. To her right was another equally opulent stair. Behind her was the “briefing room” and ahead, where Wayne seemed to be leading her now, was yetunknown.
“Up that way are the rec rooms. . . and not much else of importance.” He gestured to the stairs at their right with a nonchalant wave. “We’ll show you those later. You just woke up, after all. I bet you’rethirsty?”
“Yeah, actually, a little.” Jo was fairly certain she had not consumed any caffeine for at least ten hours and was close to death as aresult.
Where the last hallway had been shrouded in darkness, this stretch was light. It was wide enough that couches and bookshelves could line the spaces between wide bay windows, creating multiple, small sitting areas. Jo kept her eyes trained on the picturesque scenes beyond theglass.
She certainly wasn’t in Texasanymore.
“Something smells good.” The scent that was growing on the air shot right to her stomach and a growl followed promptly, eliciting a chuckle fromWayne.
“Seems like your stomach’s woken up too. We can find you some food in the kitchen and settle that once and forall.”
“Kitchen” was anunderstatement.
The room they entered, and presumably the final one on the tour for now, was positively massive. It was a giant rectangle supported by columns on the outside, and ornately carved buttresses that stretched to a steeply pitched roof. Stained glass windows streamed color into the room from between each of thepillars.
There was no wall beyond the columns opposite her; instead, the space opened to a massive patio complete with grills, tables, lounge chairs, and a pool that looked like it hung hundreds of feet above the valley. Fresh air—fresher than any she’d breathed her entire life—wafted in from outside, cool and crisp and painfully unlike the oppressive heat ofhome.
To her left stood a massive kitchen. A large island with eight stools supported two different sinks with more than enough room to work between them. Behind were two gas stove-tops and three ovens mounted in the wall. There was, however, only one microwave, an appliance Jo was ready to fight for, since her cooking skills had never much graduated beyond instantnoodles.
To the right was a sitting area with leather couches, most of which surrounded a television that took up nearly half the wall. Next to that was a large billiards table, its frame catty-cornered to a smaller table decorated in black and white squares. The two were positioned right below one of the stained-glass windows, and the light shining through painted each in delicate splotches ofcolor.
Everything around her was part new, part old—a mix of neoclassical cathedral and billionaireplayhouse.
“Billiards?” Wayne said with a note of approval to the other occupant of theroom.
“It appears so. Though no word yet on who put in the request. Not that it would matter, anyway. . .” Another all-too-pretty man spoke over his shoulder from where he was working two skillets filled—according to Jo’s nose—with bacon and eggs. He had brown hair as well, but it was a richer hue than Wayne’s and held more red notes. Messy waves straggled down over his ears, into his eyes, and ended at the nape of his neck. He stopped all movement and did a double-take when he saw her. “The new recruit is awoman?”
“I’m just as surprised to be here as you are to see me.” Jo shoved her palms into her jeans and shrugged. “Less surprised about the woman bit,however.”
“Please excuse my shock. . . You’re just the second one in fifty short years. I had begun to think that all those remaining in the lineages were men only. . . But here you are, proving me wrong, yet again.” His eyes drifted over to Wayne. “And I do hope this foul creature hasn’t been harassing you.” The man turned off the burners and hastily crossed over to her, wiping his hands on a grease- and paint-stained apron before extending one to her. “My name is Niccolo, but everyone just calls meNico.”
“Josephina, but everyone calls me Jo.” If sunshine were a person, it would be this man. His voice sounded like something she could only describe as melted chocolate and his eyes were much the same color. Jo took his hand and found it to be just as warm, albeit calloused, and his grip a little too strong on her narrow fingers. It was hard to feel uneasy, even despite her situation, in the presence of someone like him. “Where are youfrom?”
“From?” He paused, going still. A shadow quickly crossed over his face, gone by the time she noticed it. “Oh, the accent. Do I really still have a touch ofit?”
“You do,” Jo affirmed. She was used to accents, worked with all sorts. But his was just a little too faint for her to pindown.
“Florence, Italy, originally.” He motioned to one of the stools. “Sit. Are youhungry?”
