He looked skeptical as hell, but he didn’t try to stop me. He just prowled along fiercely beside me, backing me up.
My heart swelled, and if I’d had a spare moment to drop to my knees and hug him, I would have.
Instead, I hurried to the front steps, stomped the snow off my boots, and rang the doorbell.
Ding-dong. Those cement walls had to be a foot thick, but my keen ears heard the sound echo inside.
Every hair on Roux’s long, striped back stood.Are you crazy?
The good kind of crazy, I prayed.
I rang again, stepped back, and did my best to gather my wits about me.
Watch it. This man is a powerful warlock,Roux warned.
So is Gordon,I said, nervously watching the door.
I have the feeling Grepper could kick Gordon’s ass,Roux muttered.
The door opened, and a beautiful young woman looked at me. Her judgmental gaze skidded over my body, taking in my hair, my clothes, my boots.
Yeah, well. She should try creeping up to a mountain hideaway sometime.
An older man appeared behind her — an aged, groomed Keanu Reeves, I couldn’t help thinking — and I forced a smile.
“Mr. Grepper?”
He nodded. “To whom do I owe the pleasure?”
“Geneviève Durand.”
In for a penny, in for a pound, I’d figured.
His graying, collar-length hair swayed when he tilted his head, as if my name struck a chord. When his dark eyes strayed to Roux, they showed no alarm whatsoever.
And why should he be alarmed? I could feel magic pulsing all around him — much, much more than I’d ever observed withGordon. Maybe that was how he’d slipped back to his house without us spotting him.
He looked away from Roux and spent a long time studying me. In a weird, twisted way, I found that refreshing. Finally, someone took me seriously.
“Let me guess,” he finally said. “You’re here to rob me of my painting.”
My nerves wobbled, but I upped the brilliance of my smile. “I was, but I have a new plan.”
He looked amused. “Talkingme out of my painting, perhaps?”
A burst of wind came howling around the corner of the building, making me shiver.
“May I?” I gestured over the threshold, where an invisible wall of magic crackled, waiting for some fool to try to break through — a barrier many, many times more powerful than the magic at our pavilions at home.
Grepper grinned at me with renewed interest, then flicked his fingers, lowering the barrier.
“Please come in. Explain.” His eyes gleamed.
The hot young woman — his plaything, I figured — grimaced like I wasn’t worthy, but he dismissed her with another firm flick of his fingers.
“This,” he murmured dangerously, “I very much want to hear.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
