In the Company of Vampires(38)

I sighed and collected the crumbs off my shirt to lay on the plate. “And what’s a necromancer?”

“Someone who raises liches.”

I started laughing. “I feel like I’m in the middle of an Abbot and Costello movie.”

She looked startled by my laughter, pinning me back with a long look that left me with the uncomfortable feeling she was seeing straight down to my soul. “You are not distraught.”

“On the contrary, I’m worried about where my mother has got to, and who her Lothario is.”

“Yes, that is true, but you are not in pain as you were yesterday. Then your aura was a dark, muddy gray. Now it is . . .” She considered me again. “Now it is indigo. What has happened to bring insight to you, Fran?”

I made a little pyramid of the crumbs, kept my gaze on them for a few seconds, then gave her a quick rundown of my talk with her brother.

A slow smile spread across her face as I finished. “You must love him very much to forgive his actions with the evil one.”

I shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know exactly what I feel, other than I’m willing to give us another chance.”

“This is good. You will not give up on him. You will destroy that she-devil Naomi.”

“Maybe not outright destroy, although I have to admit the temptation is pretty strong.” I laughed again. “And no, I’m not giving up on Ben. Not unless we find out that things . . . Well, we’ll let that go for now. For some bizarre reason that he feels he can’t explain, he’s pretending to be in love with Naomi. I don’t like it. I don’t like him keeping things from me. And I really don’t like her. But he asked me to trust him, and I’m trying to do that.”

“Ah, my dear friend, I cannot tell you how happy that has made me,” she said, tears shining in her eyes as she leaned across the table to hug me. “Benedikt has suffered so much these last few years waiting for you. I am happy to know that it was not in vain.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said, wondering if it was any use trying to explain to her my emotions concerning Ben, eventually deciding that where he was concerned, she really only heard what she wanted to hear. I hurried on at the distraught look on her face. “No, don’t apologize. I’m just teasing you. I’m well aware that Ben suffered a lot more than I could have imagined he would. I’m sorry for it, but there’s nothing I can do to change the past. I need to focus on the present. Which brings me to the inevitable: Can I have the Vikingahärta? I don’t want to use it, but I don’t see any other way to find my mother.”

She nodded and got to her feet, heading toward the bedroom. “I expected you would want it. I had Peter take it out of the safe for you yesterday. I’ll fetch it.”

“How long have you and Günter been together?” I called after her, successfully resisting the temptation of an orange ginger scone. “He seemed nice, the little bit I talked to him.”

Imogen appeared in the open doorway to her bedroom, her eyes wide. “Fran.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s gone.”

“What is?” A horrible thought struck me, sending goose bumps down my arm as I leaped to my feet. “Not the Vikingahärta?”

“Yes. I put it on the nightstand, but it is not there.”

I hurried after her as she returned to the room. “Maybe it fell under the bed?”

We searched there, in the closet, the dresser, and finally tore the sheets and blankets off the bed, just on the chance the small scarlet velvet case had gotten caught in a blanket. There was nothing, not so much as a scrap of velvet.

“Bullfrogs!” I swore as I sank onto the edge of the bed, my stomach an icy leaden weight at the thought of the lost Vikingahärta. “Holy cow, Imogen. What am I going to do?”

“I don’t know where it could be,” she answered, shaking a pillow in hopes of feeling the small hard box. “It was right here, I swear that to you, Fran. I put it right there, right next to the lamp.”

“Was it there this morning?” I asked, swallowing back a sudden rise of bile. If I didn’t have the Vikingahärta, how was I going to force Loki to tell me if he seduced my mother, let alone banish him?

“I don’t know,” she repeated, clearly miserable. “Günter didn’t come back yesterday, and I . . . Well, I’m afraid I was in town most of the night, looking for him in the clubs.”

The thread of pain in her voice penetrated my own sense of desolation. I gave her hand a little squeeze. “You can’t possibly believe he left you for another woman? Imogen, you’re gorgeous and funny and sweet, and a man would have to be stark raving mad to want someone else over you.”