The Dark Glamour (666 Park Avenue 2)

creepiness.’
    Jane took a hearty swig of the champagne the realtor had messengered over. ‘The doves were just a warm-up. But I got out, of course, before . . . My magic came back in time, and I knocked him out and got away.’ Although she knew that Dee was a trustworthy friend who was deeply interested in all things magical, Jane found herself reluctant to talk about the thought-moving power she had discovered during her desperate minutes of captivity in the attic. Even more than her ability to read thoughts, the ability to shift them around in someone else’s head made Jane feel freakish, and she didn’t think she could deal with Dee getting nervous around her.
I’ll tell her, of course,
Jane promised herself.
Just not tonight.
    She told Dee the real story of the ‘accident’ on Park Avenue: how Lynne had held their taxi in place while stalking down the middle of the street in a protective bubble of her own magic, and how Jane had pulled a tree out of the median to cause a five-car pile-up so that Lynne would have to focus more on her shield and less on the taxi. She glossed over the sad scene in Grand Central Station, where Malcolm had tried to convince her to go with him, obviously hoping they could somehow carry on with their relationship even after everything Jane had learned. But no matter how frightened she was or how dangerous her enemies were, Jane had no intention of hiding behind anyone . . . and especially not anyone who had already betrayed her so completely.
    When she got to the part about Mystery Woman in the coffee shop, Dee sat straighter on the couch, her amber eyes fixed intently on Jane’s. Jane understood her worry, but the contrast between her sudden vigilance and cozy flannel made it hard not to laugh. ‘I totally freaked out,’ Jane admitted, ‘and I was too scared to even read her mind in case she could tell somehow, which pretty much sums up how depressingly pathetic I’ve been these last few weeks.’
    ‘So you don’t even know for sure if she was really there for you?’ Dee gasped.
    Jane refilled her glass, hoping the action would hide her sudden blush. ‘No. I just . . . um . . . blew up the espresso machine and left.’
    Dee choked on a piece of lettuce. ‘Subtle,’ she declared when she was able to talk again. ‘This life of stealth is clearly for you.’
    Jane stuck her tongue out, then popped a cucumber slice onto it for good measure. It was certainly true that she wasn’t shaping up to be spy material: after three weeks of zero progress on her mission, it had taken a never-ending bank account to pull her out of a total nervous breakdown.
But I happen to have a never-ending bank account, so there’s no use beating myself up about that.
‘You’re one to talk,’ she retorted. ‘I knew exactly where to call to find you.’
    Dee sighed and slumped cozily against the back of the couch. ‘Book and Bell seemed like the thing to do at the time, but then Misty was so nice I was ready to sink into the ground. She had me working shifts when the store wasn’t even supposed to be open. No one would come in for six hours, and she’d swear I was earning room and board. It was really sweet, but there came a point where I was, like, desperate for a fairy godmother. Speaking of which . . .’ She glanced around the apartment curiously before fixing her questioning amber stare on Jane.
    ‘Malcolm hid money for me,’ Jane explained succinctly, and then remembered the mystery that he had hidden along with it. ‘And this,’ she added, hopping off of the couch and padding over to the closet that contained her purse.
    She fished out the little blue box and tossed it to Dee, who opened it curiously. After a long moment, she tapped at it with a cautious fingernail, then shrugged at Jane. ‘I’ve honestly got nothing.’
    ‘Malcolm never struck me as the collector type,’ Jane mused, ‘and even if he were, I don’t think glass figurines would be his thing. Or unicorns.’
    ‘Plus, he’d probably have more than one,’ Dee pointed out, and Jane nodded seriously.
    ‘One of anything is a pretty crappy collection. But it obviously was important to him, so now I have it and I have no idea what to do with it. I don’t even know when I’ll see him again.’ Jane frowned and twisted a paper napkin around her fingers. ‘I couldn’t even worry about him, really, when I was so worried about everyone here. At least I know you’re okay, but I’m still worried about Harris,