Immortal in Death (In Death #3)(105)

He heard the door open and angled his chin. They were going to have this out once and for all, he determined. Here and now. He took two more steps, then was down the rest of them in a dead run.

“What the hell happened to her? She’s bleeding.” There was blood in his own eye as he snatched a limp Eve from the arms of a seven-foot black in a silver loincloth.

As everybody began talking at once, Mira clapped her hands like a schoolteacher in a room of rowdy students. “She needs a quiet room. The MTs treated her for the drug, but she’ll have some residual effects. And she wouldn’t let them deal with the cuts and bruises.”

Roarke’s face went stony. “What drug?” His gaze latched on Mavis. “Where the hell did you take her?”

“Not her fault.” Still glassy-eyed, Eve wrapped her arms around Roarke’s neck. “Casto. It was Casto, Roarke. Know that?”

“As a matter of fact — “

“Stupid — stupid to miss it. Sloppy. Can I go to bed now?”

“Take her upstairs, Roarke,” Mira said calmly. “I can tend to her. Believe me, she’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be fine,” Eve agreed as she floated up the stairs. “I’ll tell you everything. I can always tell you, can’t I? ‘Cause you love me, you sap.”

There was only one piece of information Roarke wanted at the moment. He laid Eve on the bed, took a good look at her bruised cheek and swollen mouth. “Is he dead?”

“Nope. I just beat the hell out of him.” She smiled, caught the look in his eye, and shook her head slowly. “Nuh-uh, no way. Don’t even think about it. We’re getting married in a couple hours.”

He smoothed the hair back from her face. “Are we?”

“I figured it out.” It was hard to concentrate, but it was important. She lifted her hands, cupped his face to keep it in focus. “It’s not a formality. And it’s not a contract.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a promise. It’s not so hard to promise to do something you really want, anyway. And if I’m lousy at being a wife, you’ll just have to live with it. I don’t break my promises. And there’s this one other thing.”

He could see her slipping, and shifted slightly so that Mira could tend the cut on her cheek. “What other thing, Eve?”

“I love you. Sometimes it makes my stomach hurt, but I kind of like it. Tired now, come to bed. Love you.”

He eased back to let Mira get on with her tending. “It’s all right for her to sleep?”

“Best thing for her. She’ll be fine when she wakes up. Maybe a little hung-over, which seems unfair since she didn’t drink anything. She said she wanted a clear head for tomorrow.”

“Did she?” She didn’t look calm when she slept, he noted. She never did. “Will she remember any of that? What she was telling me?”

“She may not,” Mira said cheerfully. “But you will, and that should do the job.”

He nodded and stepped back. She was safe again. One more time safe. He glanced over at Peabody. “Officer, can I count on you to fill me in on the details?”

Eve did have a hangover, and wasn’t pleased about it. Her stomach was tied in greasy knots, and her jaw was sore. Between Mira and Trina’s wizardry with cosmetics, the bruises didn’t show. As brides went, she supposed, studying herself, she was passable.

“You look mag, Dallas.” Mavis sighed and took a slow turn around Leonardo’s finest hour. The dress sleeked down, as it was meant to, the bronze tone adding warmth to Eve’s skin, the lines highlighting her long, lean form. Its very simplicity made the statement that it was the woman within who counted.

“The garden’s packed with people,” Mavis went on cheerily as Eve’s stomach roiled. “Did you look out the window?”

“I’ve seen people before.”

“There was media doing flybys earlier. I don’t know whose button Roarke pushed, but they’ve stopped.”

“Goodie.”

“You’re all right, aren’t you? Dr. Mira said you shouldn’t have any dangerous aftereffects, but — “

“I’m fine.” It was only partly a lie. “Having it closed, knowing all the facts, the truth makes it easier.” She thought of Jerry and suffered. She looked at Mavis, the glowing face, the silver-tipped hair, and smiled. “You and Leonardo still planning to cohabitate?”

“At my place, temporarily. We’re looking for bigger digs, one where he’ll have room to work. And I’m going to start making the club rounds again.” She took a box from the bureau, handed it over. “Roarke sent this up for you.”

“Yeah?” Opening it, Eve felt twin tugs of pleasure and alarm. The necklace was perfect, of course. Two drapes of twisted copper studded with colored stones.

“I happened to mention it.”

“I bet you did.” With a sigh, Eve draped it on, then fastened the long matching drops to her ears. And looked, she thought, like a stranger. A pagan warrior.

“There’s one more thing.”

“Oh, Mavis, I can’t stand one more thing. He’s got to understand that I — ” She broke off as Mavis turned from the long white box on the table, took out a sweeping spray of white flowers — petunias. Simple, backyard-variety petunias.