The Dark Glamour (666 Park Avenue 2)

please,’ she added to the cousin and the trophy wife, backing out of their little circle and heading for the fresher air outside of the canopy.
    She reached the wrought-iron railing, and leaned out slightly over the busy street below.
It’s a business event thrown by two magical families,
she mused, the thoughts snapping into place like interlocking blocks.
Anyone whose mind could be read is a weak link.
It would only make sense that the active witches present would protect their own family members’ minds from being read.
No wonder Lynne was annoyed that the Dalcaşcus sent only two people. Her side is stuck blocking the minds of half of Manhattan, while André is the only one his sister has to worry about.
Most of the attendees probably had at least a little magical heritage, Jane guessed, which would make them harder to read than most people to begin with. But it still must have taken a huge amount of power and concentration to render their minds completely unreadable.
    It seemed like an awful lot of effort, actually, for people as rich and powerful as the Dorans. No matter how alluring the prospect of a good deal was, couldn’t they do as well, or nearly as well, without dealing with other witches? That way they would have a major advantage, which was how Lynne preferred to conduct all her business.
    Unless,
Jane’s brain continued on briskly,
it’s not really about that kind of ‘business’ at all.
It would undoubtedly be better to treat with nonmagical companies when the stakes were purely financial. And Lynne didn’t need more money; she needed more witches. Young, female witches who could be brought into her family so that she could continue her magical legacy the way she had once tried to do through Jane.
Except this time, instead of murder and seduction, she’s inviting their relatives to swank parties,
Jane thought bitterly, kicking at a scuff mark in the flagstone. But her feelings aside, she knew she had hit upon something.
‘Cash-poor,’ Laura called them, but they’ve got plenty of money. She meant magic.
Lynne had magic, so the Dalcaşcus must have witches. It wasn’t a merger at all: it was an alliance.
    And I’m stuck right in the middle of it,
she realized suddenly, feeling more than one pair of eyes on her. She looked up and saw Laura look quickly away and move off into the crowd. From one dark corner, Belinda Helding was staring at her thoughtfully, but unlike her daughter-in-law, she didn’t bother to hide what she was doing when Jane met her cold, pewter gaze. Jane’s eyes located Laura’s asymmetrical taupe cocktail dress again, this time next to Lynne’s sleek garnet one. The two women were whispering, their shining coiffed heads so close they were nearly touching.
    Laura is suspicious,
Jane decided in a panic.
She met me, and now I’m here, and she knows something’s up.
There were at least three witches between Jane and the elevator. She gripped the railing so hard that her knuckles went white, but the interested tilt of Lynne’s head was telling her something important, and she concentrated hard.
Dee got me and André onto Page Six,
she reminded herself, feeling a sudden space of calm in her mind.
They can’t read my mind, so they’ll think André’s posse is protecting me, too, which would mean I’m important. They’ll be curious, and I can use that.
    Lynne stepped back from her tête-à-tête with Laura and turned her dark eyes to rake Jane over from head to toe. Jane pushed away from the railing before she could talk herself out of it, and sauntered across the roof towards Lynne. She was amazed at how steady she felt; even her champagne stayed level in its flute as she closed the space between them.
    ‘Lady Baroness,’ Lynne greeted her with an arched eyebrow that briefly took Jane back three months.
    ‘Mrs Doran,’ she replied politely, inclining her head a fraction of a degree.
    ‘You’ve made quite the entrance in New York,’ Lynne observed, her voice smooth as a polished diamond. ‘I’m told that André normally goes for women who are more . . . interchangeable.’
    ‘Perhaps he’s trying to impress you,’ Jane shot back coolly, enjoying the fleeting twitch of surprise on Lynne’s face. Being a mystery was much more fun than being the prey, she decided.
    ‘That could be it,’ Lynne agreed impassively, brushing back an imaginary stray lock of hair into her flawless twist. ‘Although at the moment I’m rather more interested in