Ruby Fever (Hidden Legacy, #6)(72)

I dumped the chopped tomatoes into a bowl. Yellow tomatoes were next, followed by minced onion, cilantro, salt, and a bit of lime juice.

Arabella walked into the kitchen and plopped into a chair. “I came to tell you that the payment to the Office of Records has been issued.”

“That was fast.”

“It was only fourteen separate cases. I contacted everyone, wired the money, and had them sign off on it absolving us of all responsibility. The parking lot repairs will be handled by the Office of Records directly, so I issued them a lump payment.”

When the occasion called for it, my sister could be so efficient, it was scary.

“Also, imagine my surprise when I went to check on Linus and found our evil grandma passed out in the next bedroom. Trapped in an arcane circle. It was very considerate of you to give her access to the suite’s bathroom.”

It was a very elaborate arcane circle. It had taken forever to develop it, and I had tested it on both Nevada and Alessandro along the way. Everything in that suite had been designed to contain my grandmother. I even had a dumbwaiter installed two months ago during the latest round of renovations so we could feed her.

“I’m sorry. There wasn’t time to tell you about it.”

“You asked me to defend the Compound. You can’t put a dragon in the spare bedroom and not tell me about it.”

“Again, I’m sorry.”

“Are we going to be having soft tacos?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Will there be steak?”

I opened the fridge, took out the giant marinade container, opened it, and showed her several pounds of skirt steak soaking in my patented fajita marinade. It involved onion, pear, spices for a bit of heat, garlic, Worcestershire sauce, lime juice, and a dash of soy sauce, all put through a blender.

Arabella’s eyes lit up. “You’re forgiven.”

“How badly did that bill hurt our budget?”

“It’s a significant unplanned expense, Catalina. Our emergency fund is wiped out. We don’t have to go on a ramen diet just yet. Maybe a baked potato diet.”

“Potatoes are cheaper than ramen.”

“Not if you factor butter, salt, cheese, and preparation time into it.”

I split my pico de gallo into two bowls and started on peeling mangos. The family was evenly split on mango pico. Half of them loved it, the other half claimed it was an abomination, and both halves would be upset if their needs were not met.

A distant explosion of barks floated to the kitchen.

Arabella groaned.

The barks got closer, then died. Konstantin strode into the kitchen and landed in the chair next to Arabella, his expression tortured. Rooster padded close to him and lay down at his feet. The prince put his hand on his face. Even exasperated, he remained shockingly handsome. If Grandma Frida was around, she would be snapping pictures left and right. For “posterity.”

“Welcome, Your Highness and Faithful Hound,” Arabella declared.

Konstantin gave her a dark look.

Rooster wiggled on her belly, scooting a little closer, her gaze fixed on Konstantin’s face.

“This infernal dog,” the prince growled.

“If you don’t change shape, she’ll stay quiet,” my sister told him. “In your place, I would be grateful. She’s the only one here who likes you.”

“I didn’t try to change shape. I brushed my hair out of my face.”

“Uh-huh.” Arabella rolled her eyes.

Konstantin turned toward her. “Why is it you don’t like me?”

“Aside from my mother getting hurt, and my sister being hurt, and my grandmother being hurt, I have four hundred and seventy-two thousand reasons. Also, you think you’re better than everybody. Maybe at home you are, but here you don’t hold a candle to Augustine.”

Of all of us, Arabella ended up interacting with MII most often. Occasionally we passed cases to them, and they reciprocated. She was the one who handled the administrative and financial arrangements, and she had developed a certain respect for Augustine and his deep-water shark ways. They shared an instinctual understanding of money and power and the best ways of using one to get the other. Augustine treated Arabella as a promising younger sister.

“This Augustine, is he an illusion mage?” Konstantin asked.

If he had done any homework at all on us, he knew exactly who Augustine Montgomery was.

“Yes, and he is better than you,” Arabella said.

Konstantin shook his head. “No illusion mage alive today, anywhere, is better than me. That’s not arrogance, that’s a fact.”

“Augustine can turn invisible,” Arabella said.

“Impossible,” Konstantin said.

“No, I’ve seen it,” I told him. “So to speak.”

Konstantin frowned.

“Let’s see it.” Arabella planted her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. “Do it. Turn invisible.”

The prince narrowed his eyes.

Leon floated into the kitchen and smiled, his face happy and dreamy. “What smells so good?”

“Sweet chili chicken.”

The smile on Leon’s face grew wider. “Soft tacos?”

“Soft tacos with sweet chili chicken and skirt steak, regular tacos with marinated shrimp and beef chuck, queso, hot and mild salsa, pico, both kinds, sautéed bell peppers, grilled corn, salad, rice, beans, and chips.”