“Give him a tip,” I tell Damon. Damon opens his wallet and pulls out some euros. I wonder if he just always carries euros with him or if they just magically appeared there. I then remember that he has a shop in Milan, so he probably always carries euros with him.
“Come on,” Damon says, tugging me to follow him. “There is something else we have to do.”
We walk along the canal until we find a little staircase leading down to the water. We don’t have to wait long before I see a gondola gliding toward us.
“Oh, Damon,” I say as he helps me into the boat. We sit behind a little table that is set with wine glasses, wine, and candles. The gondolier serenades us as we take in the stars, the architecture, and each other. It is a magical evening that I never want to end.
CHAPTER 20
DAMON
“Come along, Bella,” I call up the stairs as I find Bella’s shoes and have them waiting for her. Tamzin is in the kitchen, feeding the pets. “Did you remember your violin?” I ask, even though I can see it in her hand as she comes down the stairs.
“Obviously,” she says as she squats and puts her shoes on.
“Good habits and all that,” I tell her.
Tamzin comes into the entry room, coffee in one hand and cookie jar in the other. “Everyone ready?" she asks.
“Yes,” Bella says, opening the door. I give Dash and Mr. Darcy a finger wave as I close the door behind us. They are trapped behind a mesh screen I bought online that lets them see us come and go but keeps them from running out the door when we are trying to leave in a hurry.
I drive us to the school while Tamzin taps away at emails to clients.
“Bye, honey!” Tamzin calls to Bella as she gets out of the car. I wave to the little sprite as well, and we are out of the drop-off line long before anyone can honk at us.
“Workout day?” I ask Tamzin.
“Yes, please,” she says, so I drive us to the gym. I have no desire—or need—to work out. Besides, I think it is really just an excuse for Tamzin and Cora to gossip and chat. While I do wish I had enough freedom to go and do what I want while waiting for them to finish, I’m still trapped by the blasted cookie jar, and there is nowhere within walking distance of the gym, so I just roll the windows down and tap around on my own phone while I wait. I look up recipes to cook for dinner. I also don’t need to eat, but I do enjoy it. And me cooking takes one more thing off Tamzin’s never-ending to-do list, which makes her less stressed and all of us happier. I lament for a moment how, if I wasn’t trapped by the cookie jar, I could just pop over to Il Piatto del Demone and then pop back with some of the best Italian food the Old World has to offer. But, alas, there is not much I can do about that. So I guess Damon’s spaghetti and meatballs will have to do.
I lay my head back and look out the window, wondering if Beverly has made any progress on undoing the spell that has me trapped. But of course she hasn’t. If she had, she would have called. Plus, she’s a witch. She can’t have much experience with demonic magic. Not that I want to leave Tamzin and Bella—I just want my freedom back. My phone buzzes with a message.
Someone was here looking for you. I see that the message is from Bianca. I decide to give her a call.
“Hey, are you safe?” I ask her in Italian. Bianca speaks English, but her native tongue is Italian, so that is what we usually speak.
“I’m fine,” she says. “But the shop has seen better days.”
“They didn’t—”
“They did,” she says. “We lost some vases, a painting, that French chaise lounge you loved so much. And I’ll have to replace the front door before I can leave tonight. We also lost a couple of customers who were in the shop at the time. They thought it was a terrorist attack or something and won’t return my calls. It’s a shame. The man was oozing money out of his pores.”
“I am surprised they don’t know where I am,” I say. “The Dark Lord knows. Eisheth knows.”
“I don’t think the Dark Lord sent them,” Bianca says, and I can hear glass crunching under her feet as she walks. She shouts something to someone, and I guess she has workers in the shop already, cleaning up the mess the goons left behind. “If he had sent them, he would have told them where you were.”
“Right. It’s probably some of the younger demons wanting to make a name for themselves with the Dark Lord. They must know he’s angry with me. They think that if they can force me to finish this job or bring me back to him in chains, they will curry favor with him.”
“That was the impression I got,” she says. “That the Dark Lord would be pleased with them if they tortured your special friend themselves.”
My ears burn at her words. “What do you mean, special friend?”
“Come now, I have my spies too.”
I chuckle. “Bianca, you naughty minx. Just who at Il Piatto del Demone are you sleeping with now?”
“Does it have to be only one person?” she asks coyly. “You have your spies and I have mine. I thought you were supposed to be torturing the American, not seducing her.”
“Things have…changed,” I say.