The Vine Witch (Vine Witch #1)(52)

“You see, so much of what I do as a witch is reading the tea leaves of a person’s life after it’s been drained of pretense. Interpretation truly is the greater part of the art of magic.” She set her cup down and leaned forward. “So let me ask another way. Does Mademoiselle Boureanu feel the same about you, full of ‘hmms’ and ‘ahs’ and blushing denials?”

God, what was in that note? “What is this about? Has something happened?”

Gerda clicked her tongue behind pouted lips three times. “It seems your client has escaped.”

“What? Are you certain?” She held out the note long enough for him to get a glimpse of Inspector Nettles’s signature. His body tensed, ready to fly to Elena. “I must leave at once.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” She fanned the letter at the flower so that a cloud of pollen-like particles wafted toward Jean-Paul’s face. “Wouldn’t it be much more fun to see how long it takes for her to come to you?”

He’d had enough of this woman, despite her tragic circumstances. He reached for his hat and stood. Or at least he thought he’d risen out of his chair. Instead, his legs seemed to float beneath him, watery and weak. He fell back against the damask. His head swam as if caught in a whirlpool. The floor undulated, the light dimmed, and a final thought drifted through his brain.

That wasn’t blue vitriol in the bottle.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Elena woke to the smell of camphor. She opened her eyes to find her nose pressed against the side of a wooden trunk, the decorative type used to store blankets and clothing against the threat of hungry winter larvae. The medicinal scent of the wood worked like smelling salts to revive her, and she rolled onto her back. Above her hung a kaleidoscope of colorful fabrics embellished with feathers and sequins, confirming she’d spent the night on the floor of a carnival wagon.

“Good morning, free bird.” A smudgy-eyed Yvette grinned down from the sleeping berth above.

Something pointy dug into Elena’s backside. She reached down and removed a red lace-up boot, its toe slightly squashed. “What time is it?” she asked and tossed the boot aside.

Yvette had sworn in the middle of the night that she knew a safe place only a few miles away where they could hide. Where exactly, Elena hadn’t asked. All she knew was at the time she was cold and damp from tromping through the waist-high grass moist with dew and would take any bolt-hole, so long as it was dry. Yvette had led them straight to the carnival following an instinct a bloodhound would envy.

The young woman shoved her thumb between her teeth and began chewing madly against the nail. “We overslept. Place is already humming. God, I’m dying for a smoke.”

“Not in here, you won’t.”

The challenge came from the front of the wagon near the door, where a petite brunette sat on a cushioned built-in bench. She wrestled with a pair of white stockings as she secured them to a garter beneath a gold-fringed skirt that barely covered her thighs. “My bad luck, you catch whole place on fire.” Her words were lacquered in the strong dialect of her native language.

“Missed me, didn’t you, JuJu?”

“Like a snake misses shoes.”

While the women traded friendly barbs, Elena sat up to peek through the curtain of a small window. Half a dozen men in work clothes sat under a tent with its flaps rolled up, eating at a table consisting of a sheet of plywood placed atop a pair of sawhorses. The number of people who might have heard them arrive worried her. “You’re sure it’s safe here?”

“Don’t mind her. These are my people. We’re as snug as a bug in a rug.”

JuJu nodded, adjusting her breasts upward inside her red-and-gold corset. “We just having a laugh. Yvette is my best roommate. Only snores a little. I didn’t even throw her things out while she was gone. I not tell anyone you’re here.”

“Come on, Ju. I’m just dying for a smoke.”

“No smoking here. Too many pretty things.”

Elena glanced up again at the assortment of costumes lined neatly along one wall, each like a tropical bird, feathery and iridescent.

“Oh là là, from one jail to another.” Yvette threw off the blanket and swung her legs over the side of the raised bed. “So what’s the mood out there? Anyone new I need to know about?”

JuJu held up a mirror and dabbed a dot of rouge on each cheek. “New sister act does magic trick with small dogs. Not as good as me on the unicycle, but it’s okay show. A man joined the crew a few towns ago. Replaced old Antoine.” She reached for a kohl stick and filled in dark lines around her eyes. “Everyone else the same.”

Yvette jumped to her feet and arched her back in a catlike stretch. The cramped wagon seemed to shrink even more, once everyone was awake and moving. Elena shifted off the floor and took a seat on the edge of the bed. When they’d arrived in the quiet predawn hours, Yvette had knocked on the window in a pattern that roused the wagon’s owner. Without question they’d been allowed inside, each left to find their corner of space to sleep. Now that the sun was up, Elena could see it was a small but cozy nest of self-contained essentials: stove big enough for boiling water, single cupboard for storing dry goods, a fold-down table for two, a camphor trunk, and a rack custom built to hold a dozen colorful costumes.