"If I'm lucky."

"Well!"Jim huffed, and sat down next to Cecile.

I turned back to Amelie, who stood with a puzzled frown watching Jim. "I'm sorry about that. Jim's a lit-tle… odd."

We both ignored the snort that came from Jim's direc-tion.

"Yes, I believe I understand what you're saying." She waved toward a small brass-fitted coffeepot. "May I offer you some coffee?"

'Thanks, I could use it."

"I should tell you that I'm not entirely surprised to see you," she said as she poured us both cups of coffee.

"Why? Oh"—I inclined my head toward Jim—"you mean because of my little friend in dog fur? You were right about skimping on supplies. You can see what the result ofthat was. Big-time screwup."

"Of that, I am not entirely sure," she answered, look-ing thoughtfully at Jim, who was licking Cecile's ears. I pretended not to notice. "I have always felt that Guardians summon the demon who is most deserved by them. But it was not because of the supplies that I ex-pected to see you. You have heard about the happenings at G & T?"

I dragged my mind away from the ghastly contempla-tion of what horrible deeds I had done to deserve Jim and shook my head.

"The police, they went to the club .and questioned everyone there."

"Questioned them? Why?"

She watched me over the rim of her cup. "It is said that the police were looking for you."

"Me?" I squawked, splashing coffee everywhere. "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you have a cloth—? Thanks. They were looking for me? Are you sure? I've already talked to the police, just this morning I talked … Oh. Inspector Proust mentioned he had been looking for me. "

She did the feminine version of the Gallic shrug as I mopped up the spilled liquid with a dish towel. "That is what I was told. The police who interviewed the Venediger reportedly questioned him most closely about you."

"Oh, no," I said, staring into the remainder of my cof-fee. It was strong and black, just the way I liked it, minute beads of oil dancing along the gently steaming surface. I knew that Inspector Proust had had me followed—he all but admitted that—but I had no idea he would go so far as to bother people at the G & T. My shoulders slumped as I wondered how angry the Venediger was.

"My informant said that the Venediger has put the word out that you are to be brought to him immediately," Amelie said, evidently reading my mind.

Yikes! "Brought to him? As in kidnapped? Is he that angry?"

Her black-eyed gaze didn't waver one tiny little bit. "The Venediger does not look kindly upon people

who bring the I'au-dela to the attention of the police. Every-one has been told to look for you. Everyone."

"L'au-dela?"I had a horrible, sick feeling in my stom-ach.

"It means …" Her hands fluttered-for a moment while she tried to find the words. " 'Otherworld.' It is the name of our society, those of us who practice magic, and those of you who manipulate the dark forces. The police do not tolerate us well. It is part of the Venediger's job to keep us far from the notice of the authorities, thus his anger with you for jeopardizing our safety."

I didn't quite know what to think of being lumped in with the dark-force-commanding group, but there were other things, more important things to worry about, things like just what the Venediger had planned for me. "You're saying that kidnapping isn't out of the question?"

She nodded.

"Lovely. Now I have the whole of the Paris Other-world after me. You know, I didn't think my day could get much worse, but somehow, it has.I almost hate to ask this, but are you going to turn me in to the Venediger?"

She looked down at the cup in her hands. "I am aguerisseur, a healer. I owe no allegiance to the Venediger, nor do I practice magic—not the type that could be in-fluenced by him. So no, I will not turn you in, although if you will accept a morsel of advice—"

I smiled. Advice I was getting great huge gobs of of late.

"—it would, I think, be better for you to see the Venediger on your own terms rather than be presented to him as a bounty … or worse."

I pushed my coffee aside, no longer able to swallow anything. I didn't want to think what would be worse than being dragged to the Venediger as bounty. "You think I should turn myself in to him?"

Her gaze flickered away from me. "He is not the po-lice, although he serves that function in I'au-dela of France."

My stomach, already wadded up into a tiny little ball, turned to lead and dropped to my feet. "Gotcha."

"Why is it, I wonder, that the police are so interested in you?"

I looked up from my slump against the counter. Amelie's face was one of bland innocence, no expression visible. "Well, it's no secret. If the police are going so far as to question the Venediger, you'll probably hear about it. I'm… um . .. kind of involved in a murder.'

"The death of Aurora Deauxville," Amelie nodded.

I sat up straighter. "You know about it?"

Amelie waved her hands in an expressive gesture. "Everyone inVaudela knew Aurora Deauxville. She was an amateur, one who had pretensions but no true ability. She frequented G & T, as well as my shop and shops of the Wiccans. She called herself a mage, but I do not be-lieve she even knew what a mage truly was."

"Hmm. Do I take it she was not well liked in I'au-deld?"

"I do not think it was so much a matter of her not being liked—she paid very well for consultations, for supplies and manuscripts. People tolerated her perhaps, but they respected the power of her money."

"Really? I thought… I assumed … I mean, if you've got the sort of power that can call up demons and cast spells and stuff, I'm surprised you'd be swayed by some-thing so mundane as money."

She laughed, her eyes crinkling in delight. "There are very few wealthy inhabitants ofI'au-delct. Only the very oldest immortals are what you would call rich, and that is because they have had time to accrue their wealth over the centuries, rather than because of their powers."

"Oh." That made for some interesting thinking. "Maybe I am going about the solving-the-mystery thing all wrong. Maybe rather than forcing Drake to tell me whodunit, I should investigate the murder like a detective would…. Naw. I'm no detective. Give me the easy way every time. Not that forcing Drake to tell anything is easy."