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with is Elizabet.
Enrique Ramirez glanced around the empty hallway outside the high school gym, before fishing in his
jeans pockets for some coins. He dialed the pay phone quickly.
 Hey, Carlos, mi amigo . . . yeah, yeah, I'm fine . . . listen, got some news for you . . . that little white
girl, the bruja. Well, she was here at the high school today. A kid was hit by a car, everyone's still talking
about it, and listen, you'll never guess what I saw her do. . . . 
* * *
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  Those idiots, Shari said, slamming down the phone receiver into its cradle.  They're useless, -totally
useless.
 Then you shouldn't use them, my dear, Perenor said from across the room, his feet propped up on the
end of the couch. He looked the picture of an indolent elflord, sipping from a glass of wine, his suit tie
undone and lying on the couch next to him.
 What are you suggesting, my lord? Shari asked tartly. He's ceasing to be amusing, she thought. He's
as cold in bed as he is outside of it. And it's -because he's toying with me; I know he is. He wants
something more from me, and he's only playing games until he gets it. . . .
 Just that this could be done much more easily by you and me than by some of those rejects of the
Unseelie Court.
Shari stiffened at that remark, and Perenor smiled.
 Does that bother you, my dear? he asked silkily.  I would have thought not. That you would care as
little about your exile from the Unseelie Court as I do about mine from the Seelie Court.
He gestured at the view of the ocean through the pane glass windows.  Isn't this much better than living
in the Unseelie Court, in that dark, desolate place? I've been to the Unseelie lands, so lifeless and lacking
in magic. Do you really want to go back there?
 I will return home, Shari said, a touch of steel in her voice.  My lord Nataniel will see to that.
 Ah, Nataniel, Perenor said.  An interesting fellow . . . ambitious, intelligent. I just wonder what he'll be
able to accomplish with it.
 I am loyal to  Shari began, but Perenor cut off her words with a gesture.
 I know you are, Sharanya. That is one of the things I admire the most about you. I just wonder whether
that loyalty might be misplaced. He rose from the couch, walking to the wet bar to pour himself another
glass of dark red wine.
 What do you mean, my lord? Shari asked.
Perenor turned, the glass of wine in his hand.  Just this. Imagine for a moment you, Nataniel, my
daughter Ria, and I are to meet and discuss various business ventures tonight. We have dinner
reservations for five o'clock, as I recall.
 Yes. What of it?
 Let's say that you and I were to leave now, to go to that high school where your inept associates
completely failed to capture the young human mage. There will be records of where this little mage lives
somewhere in their files. We search through the records, or use the -administrators to find the
information. . . . 
 Easily done, she said.  They are only -humans, after all.
 Agreed. Some simple magic to force them to tell us what we need to know. Then, at dinner tonight, we
convince Nataniel that we should go pick up this mage immediately. After all, that's a pet project of his,
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isn't it? And then, somehow, during the course of capturing it . . . something unfortunate happens to
Nataniel. He raised his glass to her in a toast.  And then you, my dear, would be free to return to the
Unseelie lands with your elven host, with the human mage at your side to defeat the Unseelie Queen for
you.
 But I wouldn't . . . 
 Think about it, Perenor said, smiling.  Nataniel cares too much about this human world. That's why
he's built an empire here. Do you really believe him when he says that he wants to go home?
 I don't know, Shari admitted.  Sometimes I -believe him, but . . .  She glanced up at him, eyes
narrowed.  And what do you get out of this, my lord Perenor?
He shrugged.  I could say I do it simply out of my regard for you, that I care about you and I want to
see you happy. But you would assume that was a lie, of course. Let's say this, instead: I help you gain the
Unseelie throne, and then you'll grant me your aid to use against the Seelie Court. I have no great desire
to return there, but I do owe them something for exiling me.
 Now that is a motivation I understand, Shari said. She moved past him, pouring wine into -another
glass.  You could lie to me, though, she said,  Just a little. Pretend that you're doing this because you
care for me. That you'd love me -infinitely, the way the humans do.
 Should I? Perenor said, an amused tilt to his lips.  Do you want me to lie to you, Shari? Should I tell
you about the beauty of your eyes, the way that your hair falls in such lovely flowing waves to your
waist? He moved closer to her, smiling that wicked smile, stray rays of sunlight from the window glinting
off his silvery hair.  What other lies would you have me tell you?
 All of those and more, she said, taking a sip from her wineglass, close enough that she could have
leaned forward to touch him.
 Let's drink to the one thing we both know is true, Perenor said, raising his glass.  To partnership.
 To partnership, she echoed, and drank slowly, her eyes never leaving him for an instant.
To partnership,she thought, and all the pleasures of it . . . until the moment when I don't need you
anymore, my lord Perenor.
Razz sat back in the back seat of the white Mercedes, his fingers drumming an idle pattern on the leather
upholstery. Something was wrong and he knew it, but he couldn't put a finger on it. Maybe everything
looked like it was fine, but he knew something was wrong. Here he was, in the back seat of his favorite
car, good blow drawn out on the -mirror in thin little lines on the seat next to him, and his best girl
promising to meet him later -tonight. But something was wrong.
His mother had said it when he was just a little kid, that he had something special. The eyes, she'd called [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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