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the thought, he shook his head. “Silvia? Her? Leave the coven? She’s like one of their chosen favorites. A golden child. Why would she leave the coven?”

Audry shrugged, dizzier hearing about her being a ‘chosen favorite’. “Maybe she’s disillusioned. She seemed scared.”

Staring, Rick replied, “I don’t doubt that she is a good actress.”

But Audry shook her head, her mind going over it all. “No. She was trying to warn me to stay away from what she described as ‘the darkness’. She said she doesn’t want her and me to be friends. And she was actually first warning me away from you. The whole witch thing came out later.”

More silence came between them. Vincent seemed winded by such talk, still not quite believing it.

Rick raised his eyebrows, considering Audry’s words. With a peek to Vincent, he asked, “What did she say about me?”

“That you’re being hunted,” Audry replied matter-of-factly, “Which I already knew. I mean, I did a web search, and you cannot believe the—”

“Funky stuff about me and my family on the net,” Rick finished for her, nodding with a roll of his eyes. “I know.”

“But there are actually real hunters after you,” Audry said, her head leveling now onto reality.

Meeting her solid gaze, Rick frankly nodded. “Yes.”

Vincent stared, finally finding his voice. “No way.”

Rick looked to him with a shrug, regarding him equally. “It is just a part of my life.” Then he said to Audry, “You really believe that she might actually want out of the coven?”

Audry shrugged, the idea just a vague eerie thing anyway. “I don’t know. She believes in a lot of unrepeatable, weird stuff. But she didn’t care if I believed her. She just warned me that dangerous people might hurt me because I know you.”

Rick nodded. Then his eyes set on her necklace. He gestured to it, “In that case, you had better hide that thing.”

A shudder went through her. It was uncanny. Was he really thinking the same as Silvia?

Vincent looked at the necklace. Squinting at it, he stared. “A bullet?” he then looked to his cousin, a thousand questions behind his eyes.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Audry said to him. To Rick, she replied, “Silvia told me the same thing you just did.”

Lifting his head a mite higher, perhaps respect growing for Silvia, Rick thought on that with a nod. “I see. I guess that means she likes you.”

A shudder went through Audry. Of course she knew that already, and yet it made Audry uncomfortably nervous. She had no desired for a woman like Silvia to be fond of her.

Rick gazed on her seriously, nodding. “It is a dangerous think to be liked by a witch. And yet…” He sighed, thinking more. Shaking his head, Rick reached up and tugged out some hair from his scalp. He held it out to Audry. “I know I am going to regret this, but you tell her that if she really wants to escape the coven, she should talk to her brother because I really doubt this hair will save her any.”

It was so weird. But he put the hair into Audry’s hand so she had no other choice but to take it. She had nowhere to put it but her shirt pocket, though.

With a nod to the both of them, Rick turned to go.

When he was just a few steps down the road, Vincent called to him, “You won’t join us for lunch?”

Peeking first to Audry, reading the look in her eye, Rick said, “No thanks. I already ate. Besides… I think Silvia is right about the danger of being seen with a guy like me.”

“You’re just a guy,” Audry blurted out, quoting him from the past.

And he knew she was quoting him. Nodding appreciatively with a laugh, Rick said, “Yeah. But not everybody knows that. I’ll see you around.”

And he walked off.

It felt so abrupt. And sad.

Audry could feel he was sad about how that had ended. Sad that he had to leave her as if it was best to sever ties for her safety. It was like she could feel a grim weariness sweep over him when she had mentioned how people being aware that she knew him might get her hurt. And he had agreed with all his soul. For a second, she felt like she was staring at that wounded wolf in the den, the one she had rescued last winter.

When he was out of sight, they continued on their way toward lunch.

Yet when halfway to the bus stop, Audry lurched to a halt.

“Holy cow, Vincent. I have a car,” Audry said. “Why are we taking the bus?”

Wryly, Vincent gestured over his shoulder. “Because of him.”

Audry peeked back.

And there he was. Harlin—standing on the sidewalk, torn between going after Rick or them. He had finally realized that Vincent existed and he didn’t know whom he hated more.

Shindig

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

“Just keep walking,” Vincent said.

“Do you have the court order on you?” Audry asked, trying not to look back.

He groaned. “No. I left it in my briefcase. I tried to bring it to his apartment this morning, but he wasn’t there when I arrived. I’ll bring it tonight. I am beginning to believe that he will follow you wherever you go, so I’ll just stay close by you today and tomorrow until he shows up.”

“So why don’t we just take my car?” Audry asked.

“Does he know what your car looks like?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why.”

They quietly rushed on, passing foot traffic. They even passed their bus stop.

Vincent sighed, taking Audry’s hand. “We need to lose him.”

Immediately they broke into a run.

And so did Harlin.

“Hey!” Harlin called after them.

They ran faster, hurrying into the Shops at Columbus Circle where they ducked inside. Vincent quickly dragged Audry to the left wing, running into the nearest shop and at a hasty long-striding walk through the clothing racks. As they ducked behind a rack, Audry saw Harlin rush frantically past the glass doors, his eyes wildly searching the mall for them.

When he completely passed by, Vincent whispered, “I’ve got an idea. I have this shindig I have to attend at the Plaza Hotel tonight and I need a date. You come with me. The Plaza has decent security. And I can bring the papers. If he shows up, I will just give it to him there. It will be ultra-public. Media moguls will be there along with the well-to-do, besides CCT cameras. And the best part is, you will have a thousand witnesses if he attempts anything. What do you say?”

Audry stared. Then she smirked wryly at her cousin. “Did Grandpa Bruchenhaus put you up to this?”

Vincent shrugged. “If you mean me going to this thing, yes. He can’t make it, and he wants a representative who won’t go to get plastered like our cousin Tom did the last time he sent one of us.  But he never hinted for me to bring you, if that’s what you mean.”

Audry remembered when Thomas Taylor, their Aunt Lillian’s eldest son and an alcoholic lawyer (who was now in the twelve-step program), had gotten wasted and nearly exposed himself in public while looking for a restroom. It was a family scandal which she had happily ignored, while her cousins and grandparents basically had a nervous breakdown over it.

“We can shop for a dress someplace nearby. My treat,” he said. “I think we can find a salon as well.”

“A salon…” Audry shook her head, thinking this was way over the top for a ‘shindig’. But then Vincent often understated things. “What exactly are you bringing me to? A presidential dinner?”

Vincent laughed, shaking his head. “No. One of those society meet and greets connected to Junior League. It is for hobnobbing debutantes and the like.”

Audry stared. “What?”

He smirked. “You know, one those places your pal Rick Deacon used to go to with that girl he dated—what’s-her-face, Selena.”

He meant Selena Davenport, one of the uppercrust, or had been before she was disowned by her grandparents for dating that manic blonde guy with the white hair whom Audry had heard had become a CIA agent. She was being dragged into the snob society that she had wanted so much to avoid. If it were not Vincent who was asking her, she would have outright said ‘no’. But since he was Vincent, Audry sighed, knowing he really did not want to attend either but he had been dragged into it and he needed moral support. She relented. “Fine…”

“Awesome!” Vincent clapped his hands then cheerfully went with her to the clothing racks. Grabbing the nearest hoodie that fit her, he rushed to the cash register and bought it. Once he peeked out the glass doors for signs of Harlin, he stepped out and ripped off the store tags and security chips, insisting Audry put it on. “He’ll recognize you. Not me.”

Relenting again, Audry pulled the hoodie on, tugging up the hood to cover her hair. It was a good thing it was braided back and tucked for work. Otherwise managing her Lorde-level bushiness to fit into the hood would have been a trial and might have given her away.

Vincent led the way, keeping one eye out for Harlin. They snuck out the 58th Street Entrance where Vincent rushed to the road and immediately hailed a cab. It took a few minutes to actually get one. Audry kept an eye out for Harlin. She barely saw him pacing the distant floor of the Shops, though he did not see her. When they got into the cab, Vincent said to the driver, “Bloomingdales, 59th Street.”

“Bloomingdales?” Audry stared at him.

“You need a dress,” he said.

Audry shrugged and sat back in her seat.

It wasn’t that far. And the best part, Harlin would not be able to find her.

When they arrived at Bloomingdales, they hurried to the department where they could find the evening gowns.

“Ok,” Vincent said once they stepped into the shop and he waved down a saleslady. “I am going out to get us some food. Remember, you need a gown fit for the Plaza Hotel, preferably something that would knock the socks off of everybody.”

“Very funny,” Audry said, knowing she’d rather not dress up at all.

To the sales assistant, Vincent said, “Please find something suitable for my cousin, as she is more inclined to be out on the Serengeti with cheetahs, or rescuing artic wolves in the Russian Tundra. I am paying for it, so don’t let her argue about the price.”

The sales assistants chuckled, nodding.

He trounced off, hands in suit pockets, looking intensely pleased with himself.

One of the assistants came up to her. “Come this way.”

Audry moaned, shoulders hanging. She really hated this sort of thing. It wasn’t that she didn’t like to look beautiful, but that she thought spending money on materialistic extravagances was ridiculous when children were starving and cures for diseases needed to be found. Whenever she spent time watching people indulge in such frivolous excesses, she got angry. So it was downright unsettling that she had to partake of this inanely stupid human societal ritual of dressing up in expensive yet revealing clothes for one night of meeting wealthy jerks.

“Look,” Audry said to the ladies in a preemptive move, “I am a vegan, so I don’t want anything silk or leather or fur. Ok? I don’t even want faux.”

“Ah,

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