Shattered Mirror (Eve Duncan #23)(34)

“Eve never makes her reconstructions look anything,” Cara said. “She just sculpts what’s there.”

“Michael said she fixes them.”

“But never changes them.” She took a step closer and slid her arm around Darcy’s waist. “I’ve always thought some people have a shining inside. Maybe Sylvie was one of those people, and it’s only now that we’re allowed to see it.”

“Maybe.” She smiled with an effort. “As I said, I’m only trying to understand what’s happening to me. I’m not up to going very deep into philosophy or theology right now. Not that I ever am. I really like accepting the role of the dumb blonde on occasion. It’s much more comfortable for me.”

“And totally deceptive.” But Darcy had gone through enough trauma and soul-searching for one day, Cara thought. She was still in the healing process, and Cara could see her changing with every passing hour. “But by all means, let’s go down and join the family and see if you can fool them.” She nudged her toward the porch steps. “Though you’ll have to be very sharp to get that past Michael…”

A few minutes later, Cara was sitting on the bench by the barbecue pit and watching as Darcy was being drawn into the magic circle of laughter and warmth that Michael, Eve, and Joe were generating. She could see any hint of artifice and stiffness melting away from her as she threw back her head and laughed at something Joe had said. This was what she had wanted for Darcy. Cara had been given this gift all those years ago, and she knew the value. She had come to Eve almost as broken and hurting as Darcy and she had—

Her cell rang, and she pulled it out of her jacket pocket.

Jock? He’d promised he’d call her when he—

Not Jock.

She stiffened as she read the ID.

Sergai Kaskov.

She hesitated, then pressed the access. “Hello, Kaskov. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. I’m not supposed to be in New Orleans for another week.”

“And you’re clearly so shocked that you forgot to call me grandfather again,” he said dryly. “Though it’s not surprising since I only see you for one month a year. It does tend to distance us, doesn’t it?”

“I’m sorry. I did forget. But that one month is more than we were ever together from the time I was three. My mother didn’t even see fit to bring me to see you until I was eleven.” She paused. “So the distance was already there and established.”

Silence. “I can always count on you to be entirely frank with me. Perhaps that’s why I look forward to these visits so much. No one else is that brave.”

“Because you’d shoot them?”

He chuckled. “I haven’t shot anyone in a long time.”

But he didn’t mention if he’d given that order to one of his men. She wasn’t going to ask him. Their periods together were too difficult without further conflict. “Why are you calling me?”

“I just wanted to tell you that I had your last concert in Connecticut recorded, and it was exquisite. You’re getting better all the time. I thought you were superb when I first heard you when you were only eleven, but now you’re reaching your full potential. I wanted to let you know I’m pleased.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His voice was mocking. “I know how little that means to you. But it does mean something to me, so I thought it would be amusing to express it. And, as it happens, I had a few other items on my agenda to discuss, so I decided I’d indulge myself.”

“What other items?”

“First, I wished to tell you that I’m already in New Orleans. I got here a few days ago, and I’ve leased a lovely antebellum house north of the city. Very southern and old-world and very reminiscent of that film Interview with the Vampire. That concept always amused me. All that power and total ruthlessness.”

“And dripping blood and no one really happy.”

“One has to accept that vampires are seldom particularly happy. It’s never written into the script. Hollywood prefers drama, not happy endings.”

“And I prefer a happy solution whenever possible.”

“I’ve noticed.” He chuckled. “But that can be at great cost to you. Anyway, I believe you’ll enjoy this house. It has a certain atmosphere that you’ll appreciate. It may stir the creative muse. In fact, I’m thinking you should come a little early.”

She stiffened. “What? Why?”

“Why not? I’m ready for your visit, and you’re no longer at school.”

“I’ve made plans to be with you for next week.”

“But you may change your mind before that time,” he said softly. “And that would make me unhappy. It’s a volatile, ever-shifting world we live in. I think you should come now.”

“Do you?” But Kaskov had never been this insistent in any of his contacts with her. He was always smooth, reasonable, almost conciliatory. This sounded almost like a threat. Yet she had an idea that wasn’t the case. “Are you going to tell me the real reason?”

He was silent. “It appears that I am. Regrettable. I know you like the idea of my being apart from the life you lead when you’re not with me, and I’ve tried to foster that impression. But it’s really not advisable in this situation.”