“And what will the lucky dust bunny have?” she asked, smiling.
Aware that he was being adored, Sebastian preened.
“Something nonalcoholic, and absolutely no caffeine,” Alice said firmly. She scanned the menu. “How about the Harmonic Sunrise? It’s made of various fruit-flavored sodas. That should be safe.”
“Excellent choice,” the waitress said. “I’ll be right back.”
When she departed, Alice sank back against the cushions. “One thing’s for sure—we achieved our objective. You said we needed publicity, and we’re getting plenty of it. By tomorrow morning everyone in the four city-states will know that the Deranged Bride has remarried.”
“You’re right.” He gave himself a moment to consider the angles. “I doubt that we’ll have to wait more than a day or two.”
Her brows snapped together. “For what?”
“For the call from Kelbrook’s fixer, Twitchell. I told you, he’ll try to buy me off.”
“Right.”
He smiled. “Relax. He can’t afford me.”
She turned pink again. “I never thought you would actually sell me.”
“It crossed your mind. I don’t blame you. It was a perfectly reasonable concern.”
Still, it hurt. Once again, he reminded himself that she had known him for only about a day.
Alice tapped one finger on the table, her mouth tightening. “I’ve been thinking about the possibility of Kelbrook and Twitchell making you an offer they assume you won’t refuse. I’m not so sure we can count on it. We’re dealing with a ruthless bunch, a crime family that just happens to run a legitimate business. I know you think that going public with our marriage and holing up here in a casino will keep us safe, but what if Kelbrook or his fixer decides to murder you and make it look like I did it? That would really give them ammunition for declaring me criminally insane.”
“An interesting twist. But if anything happens to me now, there will be a lot more truly terrible publicity for the Kelbrook family and the business. Twitchell’s job is to clean up the mess, not make it worse. Meanwhile, I need time for more research. I did as much as I could on you while I was looking for you, but it has become clear that I didn’t do nearly enough on the Kelbrook clan.”
“What good will checking out their ancestry records do?”
“You never know. The answers are always in the bloodline.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You do realize how fatalistic that sounds, right? You’re saying we are all more or less doomed by our talents.”
“No,” he said, irritated because he had failed to make himself clear. “That’s not what I meant. Power—normal or paranormal—isn’t inherently good or bad. It’s neutral. What matters is how it is deployed. That’s where bloodline comes in. Family is the X factor in the equation. To solve the crime, you have to first solve for the unknown.”
She considered that briefly. “You’re trying to predict the actions and reactions of human beings using a mathematical model. You are not allowing for the unpredictable elements of emotion, personality, mental health issues, and environment.”
He leaned forward and folded his arms on the table, aware that he was starting to enjoy the argument. “The majority of which are determined by the bloodline.”
“Hah. You want to take on the old nature versus nurture debate? Be careful what you wish for. The Ballantine Method holds that everyone knows the difference between good and evil. Everyone chooses their own ethical path.”
“In that case, how do you explain sociopathy?”
“Sociopaths know the difference. They just don’t get the kickback of guilt and shame the rest of us get if they choose evil.”
“Here’s what you’re forgetting,” he said. “One’s concept of right and wrong is established by the family. Take the Kelbrooks. For them, ‘right’ is anything that benefits the family and the business. ‘Wrong’ is anything that hurts the family and the business.”
“They know the ethics of the situation. They just choose loyalty to family above all else, even if it means hurting other people, because they value money and power more than ethical action.”
“On that,” he said, “we agree. The question is, who or what endowed them with those values?”
“According to the Ballantine Method—”
She broke off because the server materialized at the table.
“Look what I have for the cute little dust bunny,” she said.
