In Too Deep

it.”
    Isabella touched the liquid fabric. “It is nice, isn’t it? Cost a fortune, but Fallon told me to bill it to the agency.”
    “Of course,” Marge said. “He’s the one who told you this was a business trip.”
    “The shoes,” Patty said impatiently.
    Marge used the scissors to open the second package. There was a shoe box inside. Isabella opened it and took out the pair of black evening sandals. Jet crystals gleamed discreetly on the gleaming patent leather straps.
    “Oooh, they’re so sexy,” Patty said.
    “Very nice,” Marge agreed. “Not exactly glass slippers, though.”
    Violet smiled and touched one of the delicate black crystals. “Close enough. You can always count on Zappos.”
    Marge looked at Isabella. “Just think—you’re going to the ball, Cinderella.”

22
    T he glittering hotel ballroom was awash in power, both the kind that came with money and status and the psychic sort.
    “Feels like the whole room is ever so slightly electrified,” Isabella said.
    Raine smiled. “When you gather this many people of talent together in one space, the atmosphere does tend to get a little hot.”
    “Yes, it does.”
    Isabella looked across the room at Fallon, who stood with Zack and two other men. As she watched, a distinguished-looking woman with silver-gray hair joined the men.
    “The man on Zack’s right is Hector Guerrero,” Raine said in low tones. “The other one is Paul Akashida. The woman is Marilyn Houston. All three are on the Council. Zack considers them to be allies. They understand the true danger of Nightshade and they will support measures to make sure J&J remains vigilant.”
    “Fallon tells me some of the other Council members are wobbling because of some vicious rumors about him.”
    “Which is why Zack insisted that Fallon come tonight.” Raine smiled. “I’ve got to tell you, though, I wasn’t sure he would show up.”
    “Why not?”
    “Fallon isn’t the kind of man who responds to social pressure. But I suppose a threat to cut off funding for his precious anti-Nightshade project did the trick.” Raine wrinkled her nose. “I’m afraid Zack is very good at figuring out exactly what it will take to get someone to do what he wants that person to do. It’s part of his talent. One of the two reasons they put him in charge of Arcane.”
    “What’s the other reason?”
    Raine raised one shoulder in an elegant little shrug. “He’s a Jones. There has always been a Jones in the Master’s Chair. Technically speaking, since the changes made by Gabriel Jones back in the Victorian era, the Council has the power to elect anyone it pleases to the Chair.”
    “But somehow the result of every election has been a Jones?”
    Raine raised her brows. “Yes. Coincidence?”
    “I think not.” Isabella smiled. “Sounds like the Society operates more like a hereditary monarchy than a democracy.”
    “Power rules in this organization, just as it does in any group,” Raine said simply. “Within Arcane that means, among other things, a lot of raw talent. There happens to be a great deal of that in the Jones bloodline. In addition, the Joneses have been running Arcane a long time. They know where all the bodies are buried. In fact, they buried a few of them.”
    “Hmm.”
    Raine’s brows went up. “What?”
    “I’m not so sure that Fallon is here just because he’s worried about the J&J budget. At least I don’t think that’s the only reason he agreed to show up tonight.”
    “Really? What other reason might there be?”
    “I don’t know,” Isabella admitted. “Fallon is not always entirely forthcoming.”
    “You mean he’s devious.”
    “No, he’s just a very private person, and he’s not accustomed to sharing his thoughts with others because most people don’t understand how he thinks.”
    “That’s certainly one way of putting it,” Raine said. She gave Isabella a searching look. “I think you may understand him better than anyone ever has.”
    Isabella took a sip of champagne and lowered the glass. “I expect that somewhere along the line he got tired of trying to explain himself and his talent.”
    Raine switched her attention back to Fallon. “You may be right. I hadn’t thought about it quite like that.”
    An attractive, expensively dressed woman in her late fifties approached the alcove.
    “Good evening, Raine,” she said warmly. “You look lovely tonight, as always.”
    Raine smiled. “So do you. Nice to see you, Maryann. Have