The Dark Glamour (666 Park Avenue 2)

there’s my fee. I took this job on commission, so to speak. I will need you to turn over your magic to me right now in exchange for Annette’s current name and address.’
    Jane held her breath; she had no idea what kind of reaction to expect, but fireworks didn’t seem unlikely. Rendering Lynne powerless was the only safe way to reunite her with Annette. For one thing, it made it that much less likely that she could ever change her mind and come after Jane. For another, it made it much less likely that she would make Annette miserable. Lynne could be a good mother, Jane had eventually decided, if she had to give up being the perfect witch.
Besides, if she picks Anne over her power, I won’t feel so guilty about turning Anne over to her,
she thought anxiously.
    Lynne reached into her handbag.
    ‘What are you doing?’ Jane demanded anxiously, rallying her own magic into something like a shield, but Lynne just smiled dismissively.
    When the older woman removed her hand from her purse, Jane recognized the object she was holding as a silver athame. ‘Tell . . . Malcolm . . . that those terms are more than acceptable,’ Lynne announced placidly, and held the slim dagger up to her lips. She closed her eyes, and the earth spun sickeningly under Jane’s feet. Lynne inhaled and Jane felt as though she were being smothered, and then Lynne exhaled onto the athame. Even in the relatively warm air, Jane could see her breath fog up the mirrored surface briefly, and then it disappeared as if the blade had absorbed it. And then there was nothing at all in the small clearing except for Jane, Lynne, and the small silver object Lynne was tossing gently back across the grass to her.
    She didn’t even hesitate,
Jane marvelled, fumbling to catch the athame. There was no question of a trick; she could feel Lynne’s magic in the object. It coiled against her fingers below the surface of the silver, and Jane shuddered involuntarily as she shoved it into her own purse. She had believed that Lynne would trade anything for Annette – had been counting on it, in fact. But somehow the speed and ease of Lynne’s capitulation had caught her completely off guard.
She truly does love her daughter,
Jane decided, feeling almost awed. For the first time since she had come up with the whole idea, she actually felt good about bringing the mother and daughter back together. Against all the odds, she suddenly felt sure she was doing the right thing, rather than just the right thing for
her.
    ‘Her name is Anne Locksley now,’ she told Lynne softly, and then went on to tell her every detail about her daughter’s second life that she could think of. The only thing she left out was the involvement of the Dalcas, cus in Annette’s disappearance. There was a decent chance Lynne would eventually figure out that part of the story on her own, but the woman’s easy sacrifice had given Jane a happy glow she didn’t want to risk having tarnished just yet. She liked this side of Lynne . . . and would be just as happy to be far away if the old, vengeful side ever came back out again.
    ‘I assume that this concludes our business,’ Lynne said finally. Jane scanned Lynne’s face for any hint that this was all an unfathomably elaborate hoax, but Lynne’s peach-lipsticked mouth remained soft and vulnerable.
    ‘Please give your employers my best,’ Lynne told her briskly, tossing Jane’s gold Vertu back as an afterthought. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes boring into Jane’s, and Jane was unaccountably surprised to see that her onetime nemesis’s eyes still had the strange, contact-lens-like layer of darkness over their irises.
Somehow I always assumed that that was a result of her magic,
Jane realized.
I guess it’s just the way she looks.
It made sense, of course: both Malcolm and Anne had quite dark eyes. But something about Lynne’s had always looked unnatural to Jane, tacked on somehow over her real eyes.
    ‘I will,’ she replied hesitantly, and then forced her voice to steady. ‘I’m sure they would want me to wish you the same.’
    Lynne smiled an absolutely unfathomable smile, and for a second Jane didn’t know if she wanted to hug the woman or run for her life. She did neither, though, because Lynne followed the strange expression up with even stranger words. ‘I always did see some of myself in you . . . Ella.’
    By the time Jane had fully processed that parting shot, Lynne was halfway down the path.
But she said that to