Having her popping up everywhere in Manhattan and Long Island had been one thing. She had connections and ties there. She’d been entrenching herself. Carving out a space of her own amidst the elite. For the most part, she seemed to be on our side.
For the most part.
Her appearance here? This hot on the heels of her showing up at the funerals? Not something we could just overlook. There was so much more to Margareta Waldemar than we’d already uncovered.
Maybe too much more.
“Andrea?” Lainey’s soft exhalation of our sister’s name had me shifting closer, ready to intercede between her and Waldemar. Bodhi put himself a half-step in front of her and Ezra locked his free hand to Lainey’s.
I’d never fault his protective instincts, even when he was committed to winding me up. Like me, Milo moved a little closer too. We weren’t just closing in around Lainey, but erecting the barrier to Waldemar.
“What do you know about Andrea?” Lainey’s question snapped me back into the room.
“Not as much as I would have liked,” Margareta admitted. Her snowy white hair was styled in a to her shoulder bob, with a part on the side that gave it a razor-sharp effect.
The dichotomy of edginess blended almost too neatly with her aura of power and authority. The charm and charisma this woman possessed made her infinitely more dangerous than even I originally suspected.
It was so easy to overlook her as the major threat in the room. But that was exactly what she was…
“Be more explicit,” Bodhi said abruptly. “If you don’t mind, Mrs. Waldemar. I think Lainey would appreciate the directness and I know I would.”
Agreed. Though I said nothing. I watched for the trap. There had to be one. Why else was she here? Leopold had put her on notice back in New York. We hadn’t informed anyone other than a select few of our destination.
Now, here she was.
“I didn’t know that her father had made arrangements to sell her,” Margareta said, this time she took a sip of her own wine and then crossed the room to take a seat in a wing-backed Queen Anne chair. The eclectic mixture of old world and new suddenly made more sense.
It had shades of her home in Queens. A place where she seemed as comfortable baking in the kitchen as she was ordering an assassination. Since I’d seen her do both at the same time, it didn’t surprise me like it once had.
“Harper Reed was a detestable man,” Margareta continued with nary a flicker of apology to me. Not that I needed one. I wholeheartedly agreed with her. My father had been a complete bastard. “I did not suspect that even he would have done this. The girl is a child…”
“We were all children once,” Bodhi commented. While I was aware he was just drawing her out, his cavalier tone irked me.
“Yes, some of us are still children,” Margareta said, meeting Bodhi’s gaze with a kind of equanimity that I could envy. Bodhi wore murder face, whether she was aware of it or not.
A perfectly pleasant mask that promised he could turn on a dime. I’d seen what he’d done to my father. I didn’t envy Margareta’s chances should she truly aggravate him.
Ezra was right about one thing. Cavendish might be insane, but he was on our side and I’d take that every damn day of the week.
“Mrs. Waldemar,” Lainey said abruptly, moving toward her. I didn’t like it and neither did anyone else but she crossed over to where the woman sat and took a seat of her own.
“Margareta, dear,” the older woman said. She focused on Lainey with utter kindness. That made me even more uneasy than her velvet glove of steel that she delivered her threats in.
“Mrs. Waldemar, I am perfectly capable of all the verbal jousting you might want to play. I am, however, not in the mood for any of it at the moment. It might not be politic or even especially kind, but if you know something about my sister—please tell me and don’t waste my time with more games.” It was the most direct, and gentle, no bullshit ultimatum I’d ever heard.
“There are a dozen different avenues in and out of Prague. Trafficking is a dirty business, but it’s also a lucrative one. Western girls are not usually found here as often. The custom is to prefer girls from disenfranchised areas of the world. Or girls from an ethnic background.” Distaste filled her expression. “They want women who can disappear and no one will look for them.”
“Yet, this is a place that Harper, King, and others used to remove ‘problems.’” The counterargument was solid. “Harper told me himself that he sold her. I spoke to a woman who participated in getting Andrea from Germany to Prague. She indicated there was an auction coming up.” Lainey laid it out for her, clear facts. As much as she tried to keep her emotions in check, she couldn’t quite mask the anger and sadness twining together in her voice.
“There are many organizations, some fledgling, and others, that do business in and around Prague. At one time, it wasn’t about what you were willing to do but what you were allowed to do.” She shook her head. “But power—power that is spread out amongst so many becomes dilute. There is no central figure who wields enough influence of Prague to close off some of those avenues. Like rats, they always come back and bring more detritus with them.”
“So you know who has her?” It was as direct a question as you were likely to get.
“We have a few likely suspects, yes.” She went from being open about everything to seemingly guarded. Lainey shifted to glance at us then back to Margareta.
“Do any of those suspects have dance academies?”
For a moment, I forgot to even breathe. A flicker of recognition in her eyes gave Margareta away. She knew.
She could tell us right now.
Like a rubber band being stretched too tight, I worried I might snap. As it was, I forced myself to be still and not drag the woman out of her chair and shake her until all the answers spilled out of her.
Footsteps in the hallway had Milo shifting. I moved closer to Lainey while Bodhi and Milo arranged themselves to put whoever joined us next right in their crosshairs.
Margareta glanced toward the doorway as a dark haired man with a brutally blunt square jaw entered. Like the rest of us, he was also dressed in a tux. Formal dining all the way around.
“Dimitri darling,” Margareta said, holding out a hand to him. The man in question swept the whole room with one cool look. There was no mistaking the assessment in them or the very real threat in the way he moved.
Fine suit aside, this man was a pure predator. What fascinated me was how he fixed on Milo first, almost bypassing Bodhi but then their gazes clashed.
Yes, please note you are not the only psychopath here, sir.
The random thought bordered on slightly hysterical. Still, as fierce as Dimitri Solohub appeared with the scar bisecting his left eye and digging deeper into his cheek, I’d put my money on Bodhi.
Every.
Single.
