“Well, you know.” The mage looked a little awkward suddenly. “The usual.”
“I think we’ve got a contender here, boys,” the brunet said.
“Smooth operator,” the second vamp agreed.
“Can you do something about them?” the mage asked me angrily, as the elevator dinged.
“They’re supposed to be here,” I pointed out.
“As am I! The Lord Protector sent me.”
The Lord Protector and his hair got off the elevator. “Ah, Dryden, my boy. There you are.” Jonas beamed at him, and then leaned over to dust a minute speck off his coat. “Have you met our new Pythia yet?”
“I’m trying!” the mage said, exasperated.
“Jonas, can I see you a minute?” I asked mildly.
“Of course, my dear, of course. It’s why I’m here.”
“Can you repeat that pickup line for me?” I heard one of the vamps ask. “I want to write it down. Something about the usual?”
“Go to hell,” the mage told him.
I preceded Jonas into the apartment, but stopped in the doorway to the lounge. Or what had been the lounge. It looked more like a greenhouse now, with what had to be four dozen vases of flowers, loose bouquets and potted plants sitting around.
“Jonas.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “What is this?”
“Options, my dear,” he said, surveying the sea of flora approvingly. “It’s always nice to have options.”
“It’s nice to have a place to sit, too. And we discussed this.”
“Did we?” he asked vaguely.
“Yes. We did. And you promised—”
“I didn’t, in fact.”
“Jonas!”
He held up placating hands. “But truly, very little of this is my doing.”
“Then what—”
“It was Niall. I believe he was . . . perturbed . . . about the desert incident. He returned in time to insert a piece in this morning’s Oracle about our eligible new Pythia and, well . . .”
“Well what?”
“The power of the press,” he said, patting my hand. “But don’t worry. I’m sure it will blow over in a week or two—”
“A week?” I stared around. I’d be able to open my own florist shop by then.
I sneezed.
“Smells like a New Orleans cathouse in here,” Marco agreed, coming back in and handing me a handkerchief.
I took it gratefully. “How would you know?”
He just raised an eyebrow at me and gathered up another load. “I’m heading to bed after this,” he told me, glancing at Jonas. “It’s about to get surreal up in here.”