Wickedly Magical (Baba Yaga, #0.5)(18)
“I have to go find a pay phone and call Ivan. Then I think I’ll see if I can wrangle an invitation to supper at the ranch. I suspect what I have in mind will be the most effective if everyone is gathered in the same room.” Barbara gave Chudo-Yudo a predatory smile. “Don’t wait up. I’m not sure how long this will take.”
The door shut behind her and Chudo-Yudo settled onto Barbara’s favorite chair with a smirk, and said to the little lizard in the rug, “Guess who’s coming to dinner?”
***
When Hugo ushered Barbara into the large dining room at the ranch, Jonathan Bellingwood stood up to greet her with a pleased smile on his face. There was an empty seat on his right, clearly saved for her, and the lovely Grace sat on his left. There were about twenty-five other adults around the table, mostly beautiful young women, but also a few couples, including an older pair seated together at the other end of the long rectangular farm-style wooden expanse. A smaller replica at the edge of the room held about ten children, including Elena and Katya.
An ornate chandelier hung over the table, clearly a new addition, since it didn’t match the simple rustic design of most of the rest of the room, and an expensive hand-woven Turkish rug covered the worn floorboards. Even on this warm summer evening a small fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, giving the scene a warm glow.
Barbara almost felt bad about the fact that she was about to ruin it all. Almost.
In her guise as the old lady again, she made her stately way down to where her host awaited her, holding out her chair politely.
“I am so pleased that you decided to join us for our evening meal, Miss Volkova,” he said. “There is no better time to see us all together, that big happy family I promised you.”
“Indeed,” Barbara said, pitching her voice thinner and higher than usual. “I was hoping to see everyone gathered together.” She sat up primly as Jonathan introduced her to his household. In the background, a couple of women carried in serving dishes heaped with food before taking their own seats.
Once they’d all started eating, Jonathan poured her a glass of red wine and gave her his best charming salesman’s smile. “Dare I hope that this return visit means you are considering joining us on a more permanent basis?” he asked. “I’m sure you would be very happy here.”
Barbara made a noncommittal noise and shifted so that the light from the chandelier hit the gems on the stickpin she wore and made them glitter even more brightly. As she’d expected, this caused an answering gleam in Jonathan’s eyes.
“My goodness,” he said, pupils widening. “What a lovely pin. Are those real diamonds?”
“Oh yes,” Barbara said in her quavery voice. “My father gave the piece to my mother on their twentieth anniversary. Would you like a closer look at it?” She pulled it out of the jacket and handed it to him, holding on to the little bunch of flowers.
“How pretty!” Grace said, leaning in to see. She gazed at it greedily, hanging on to Jonathan’s arm. “If you do come to live with us, Miss Volkova, maybe you’ll let me borrow it sometime.”
Barbara gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Perhaps. But you must be careful. It is quite sharp.”
With this, she plucked it out of Jonathan’s fingers and plunged it into the fleshy part of his thumb, thus proving her point and distracting him long enough that she could reach over and pull the medallion out from underneath his shirt. Holding the flowers in her other hand, she ground them firmly into the center of the necklace until they disintegrated into a shower of tattered petals and dusty pollen. Then she pulled the pin out again, leaving a bright bubble of crimson blood welling up to drip on the once-pristine tablecloth.
“Oops,” she said blithely. “Sorry about that.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jonathan yelled at her, clutching the medallion tightly in his wounded hand. “Are you crazy?” He’d clearly decided that no amount of money was worth being attacked by a crazy woman at his own table. “Hugo, get her out of here!”
Hugo started to rise, but Barbara just gazed at him. “Really, Hugo? What are you going to do? Hit an old lady?”
Looking confused, Hugo sat back down again.
Jonathan sputtered at him. “Hugo! Get up! Do what I tell you!” He tucked the medallion back inside his shirt, ignoring the blood dripping off his hand, and pressed it hard against his skin. “Hugo, you know you want this woman to leave. Make her leave!”
Barbara chuckled. “I’m afraid your little toy won’t work anymore, Mr. Bellingwood. Or should I call you Mr. Bell?” Around the room, people were exchanging bewildered glances, as if suddenly waking to find themselves in an unexpected place.
She raised her voice, so everyone could hear her. “I’m sorry to say that you have all been the victims of trickery.” With one deceptively frail-looking hand, she reached out and yanked the necklace out of Jonathan’s grip, breaking the chain in the process, and leaving a red welt to add to his other wound. She held the medallion up to show them. “This little trinket had the ability to influence your minds, making you do whatever this man wanted you to do, including giving him most of your money, apparently.”
A murmur of whispered discussion flowed around the table like a sea serpent, a mixture of confusion, anger, and sorrow.
“You are now free to make your own choices,” Barbara continued, ignoring the babble. “Stay if you want, or go. But this time it will be of your own free will.”