“Same for me,” she murmured.
“I’m sorry, Beatrix.”
She wasn’t ready to give up. She convinced him to drive them to Baltimore, drop her off at one law office and go to another, where they separately sat in hopes of catching an attorney on the way out. Maybe Peter’s status as a famous (or at least infamous) wizard would help? But he circled back at a few minutes to five, shaking his head.
“The receptionist took pity on me and said she’d work me in as soon as his last call of the day was done,” he said. “Then the man got word that his mother was ill, and he ran out.”
She sighed. “The receptionist here didn’t do me any such favors. ‘Mr. Zhu is far too busy,’ etc. etc. And when she left at four-thirty, she told me not to bother trying to get back to his office because the door to the hallway is locked.”
The sparest shadow of a grin passed over his face. “And was it?”
“Yes,” she admitted.
They sat in silence as the loud clock on the wall ticked away the seconds. Then the door opened and a man strode out, eyes on his pocket as he fished out his keys.
Beatrix jumped to her feet. “Mr. Zhu?”
“I’m afraid I’m in a rush—” The man looked up and halted, goggling at them. “Omnimancer and Mrs. Blackwell?”
“Yes,” Peter said. “Could we have just a few minutes of your time? We’d be incredibly grateful.”
Zhu looked at his watch. “Uh—yes. Ten minutes. I can make ten minutes work. What’s the problem?”
Heart leaping, Beatrix pulled out their bills and quickly covered the key details.
As the lawyer scrutinized the documents, Peter said, “Do you think there’s a reasonable chance of saving the house and negotiating the debt to something we could pay off over time? I have a decision I must make tomorrow morning, and it’s entirely dependent on the answer to that question.”
Zhu gave a thoughtful frown. “These are odd bills. They didn’t itemize them—you see? Nothing to specify how the costs added up. I’ve handled cases from this hospital, and those bills were itemized from the start.”
Beatrix bit her lip, trying not to be hopeful yet, and failing.
Zhu looked up from the paperwork. “Listen, I can’t promise anything. I think these bills are peculiar, and they may well be inflated, but I’ve got no way of knowing without digging into it. Bottom line, though: I think we can make the hospital see that a reasonable payment plan is in everyone’sinterest. And I’m pretty confident we can get them to agree not to take your house, Mrs. Blackwell, seeing as Omnimancer Blackwell is willing to sell his.”
She steadied herself on Peter’s shoulder, the rush of relief leaving her wobbly.
“Thank you, sir.” Peter put an arm around her. “That’s very good to hear. You’ll take our case?”
“Yes, call tomorrow for an appointment—I’ll have my secretary fit you in later this week.”
Zhu put out his hand. Peter shook it. They walked out of the office and let the lawyer take the elevator to the front exit while they headed to the stairs in the back. Just in case.
“I don’t think I was followed here,” he murmured in her ear. “I didn’t park near the other law office and I ducked into Lexington Market on the way. You can’t effectively tail anyone there. Too many people. I took a roundabout way here, too.”
He’d dropped her off hours earlier at a restaurant—one with a back door to an alley that connected to the building Zhu’s office was in—so she felt reasonably confident she too had not been followed.
Her euphoric relief was tempered on the car ride home by the recollection that “I can probably save your house” and “more likely than not, the hospital will pull up short of ruining you” was not the same as actually saving her house and avoiding ruination. And even the best-case scenario wasn’t good—just less awful. But she would take less awful at this point. And she would absolutely, gladly roll the diceon Mr. Zhu when the alternative was sending Peter back to the hell he’d come here to escape.
She smiled at him when he stopped at a light. He leaned in and kissed her.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much for not giving up.”
Awareness crept upon him by degrees. He felt—oh,God.He groaned, pulled back and thrust again, every nerve ending alive, Beatrix’s hip warm against his hand, her bottom pressed against him, a softmmmmon her lips, darkness enveloping them—harder fasteryes?—
“Oh!” she cried not in ecstasy but in alarm, and that was the exact moment he realized this was not a dream, this was certainly not dreamside, this was really happening and he was past the moment of no return.
With a shout of alarm, he pulled out, ejaculate bursting onto the bed.
“How …how…” He couldn’t get another word out. He thought he might be sick.
