“Actually, now that I think about it, the more interesting question is what are you doing here?” I asked. “Your name wasn’t on the guest list.”
“How did you get access to the guest list . . .” Gabriel sighed. “Charlotte. She really is too smart for everyone, including me.”
I grinned. “Yes, she is.”
Gabriel took another swig of champagne. “If you must know, I was finishing up a consulting job in Frankfurt when Elsa Eisen reached out to me.”
Gabriel might have left Section 47, but he still had his feet firmly planted in the spy world. He ran Chase Industries, a private contracting firm that did everything from kidnapping rescues to witness protection to returning stolen art to its rightful owners. Gabriel had a sterling reputation for being either silent and invisible or loud and deadly, depending on the situation and his clients’ demands.
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Elsa Eisen wants you to work for her? Doing what, exactly?”
Gabriel shrugged. “To be determined. I just got here a few minutes ago. I was on my way to speak to her when I saw you lurking over here and decided to come say hello.”
By this point, most of the guests had taken their seats, while the waitstaff was in the back of the ballroom, clearing away dirty plates and glasses. The curtains had been drawn across the stage, and music had begun playing, indicating that the performance would start soon.
I glanced over at Elsa, who was whispering to one of her security guards. The man nodded, then moved off. Elsa’s face remained smooth and expressionless, but her red aura pulsed with worry. Lina wandered over to her, and Elsa plastered a smile on her face and started talking to her niece.
“Do you think Elsa is in trouble?” I asked.
“Folks don’t hire me just for my good looks and witty conversation, Slick.”
Gabriel smirked at me, then smoothed a hand down the front of his tuxedo jacket, strutted over to Elsa, and introduced himself. Once again, her expression gave nothing away, but her aura pulsed even more strongly than before, this time with interest. Elsa ushered Lina over to a chair, then drew Gabriel off to the side and started speaking to him. I couldn’t hear what she said, but in an instant, Gabriel’s entire persona shifted from warm, charming, and relaxed to cold, quiet, and alert.
So Elsa Eisen was in trouble, and she had hired Gabriel Chase to help her deal with it. I couldn’t help but wonder what, if anything, that trouble might have to do with Henrika Hyde—and if tonight’s holiday party would turn out to be far more dangerous than Charlotte and I had anticipated.
Elsa finished speaking to Gabriel, and the rest of the guests took their seats. I snagged a chair in the final row, so that most of the other guests were in front of me and my back was to one wall.
Gabriel remained standing along the wall, close to where Elsa and Lina were sitting in the front row. His gaze roamed over everyone in the ballroom, and he started speaking to one of the guards. Whatever trouble Elsa was in, Gabriel was already trying to get a handle on it.
The lights dimmed, the curtains drew back, and the performance began. I was familiar with the music, although I had never seen The Nutcracker before. Normally, I would have enjoyed the ballet, as I appreciated anything with an artistic bent, but, like Gabriel, I kept a close watch on everyone, from the dancers flitting about the stage, to the guests lounging in the cushioned chairs, to the waiters setting out more food and drinks.
According to Charlotte’s research, The Nutcracker usually ran for about two hours, including an intermission, but since tonight’s show only featured a few scenes, it was only supposed to take about thirty minutes. Then the guests would have another chance to mingle with the dancers, admire the Nutcracker Ruby, and guzzle even more champagne.
Henrika Hyde wasn’t here, and it didn’t look like she was going to make a last-minute appearance. Disappointing but not surprising. Henrika had been smart enough to stay ahead of us this long, and I hadn’t really expected to catch her here tonight.
While the music soared and the dancers twirled onstage, I checked my pocket watch. Charlotte should be in position by now. Time to do my part.
I slid my watch back into its pocket, got to my feet, and headed toward the back of the ballroom, as though I was bored.
Maria, the waitress Charlotte had been chatting with earlier, offered me a plum strudel, which I politely declined. Instead, I tucked my hands into my pockets and drifted toward one of the side doors.
According to the schematics Charlotte had accessed, a junction box was located about thirty feet down the corridor outside the ballroom, something I had verified on my way into the party earlier. As a galvanist, I could easily reach out and channel the electricity running through the walls of whatever room I was in, but disrupting power to a larger area, like the entire castle, often required access to a junction box or something similar. Leaving the ballroom and channeling the current through the box would also lessen the chance of someone accidentally brushing up against me and literally getting the shock of their life while I was manipulating the castle’s electrical grid.
“Charlotte?” I asked in a low voice. “Are you in position?”
Silence. Then a couple of raspy huffs sounded in my ears, as though Charlotte was out of breath for some reason. “I’m working on it. Give me ninety seconds, then kill the lights.”
“Roger that.”
I glanced around the ballroom. None of the security guards was paying any attention to me, since I wasn’t close to the Nutcracker Ruby, although Gabriel was watching me with a shrewd, knowing expression. No doubt, he too had slipped out of many a party during his time as a Section cleaner so he could complete his mission—
The lights flickered.
I stopped and looked at the closest wall sconce, then the chandelier above my head.
The lights flickered again, and an odd high-pitched whine filled my ears, as though all the old-fashioned bulbs were on the verge of blowing. I reached out with my magic. Despite the layers of paint, wood, and plaster, I could still feel the energy zipping through the electrical lines in the walls. But instead of a smooth, steady flow, the current kept skipping, like a scratchy record on a turntable.
“Charlotte!” I hissed. “Something’s wrong—”
The lights flickered a third time, then snuffed out completely, plunging the ballroom into darkness.
Someone else had cut the power.
CHAPTER THREE
CHARLOTTE
I loaded some champagne flutes onto my tray, then left the ballroom. I offered the drinks to the folks standing in the hallway, but they were too busy chatting and laughing to pay any attention. Fine by me. I moved past them all, my gaze locked on the far end of the hallway.
“Where do you think you’re going?” a sharp voice called out.
I bit back a groan and turned around. Chef Jacques was striding toward me, once again clutching a large knife. This blade burned an even brighter, bloodier red in my eyes than the one he’d brandished at Maria earlier in the ballroom, but it still paled in comparison to the pinched, angry scowl on his face.
Jacques stopped and stabbed his knife at my chest like it was an extension of his index finger, although he stopped short of actually slicing me with the blade. “You’re supposed to be in the ballroom with the others. Not wandering around out here like an aimless fool.”