Gift of Fire (Gift #2)

Oliver Crump, who had been staring into the fire, looked over at her with sudden interest. "We'll have to compare recipes," he said with a slight smile.

"Verity runs a gourmet vegetarian cafe in Sequence Springs," Elyssa said helpfully. "Positively wonderful food, so wholesome. I've tried to explain to Maggie that we would all prefer vegetarian food while we're here at the villa, but I'm afraid she's a little set in her ways. I'm not sure what we'll get for dinner."

"I believe that cooking," Slade Spencer intoned as he fixed Verity with a deep, meaningful gaze, "is the most sensual of all the creative arts. Its appeal is fundamental and basic, isn't it? It provides stimulation to the senses, and satisfies us in ways that are almost sexual. Don't you agree, Verity?"

"I hadn't thought of cooking as sexy," Verity began slowly. Before she could finish the comment there was a loud crack of glass against wood. Verity turned to see Jonas release his glass and give Spencer a cold look.

"If you want to screw a rutabaga, that's your choice, Spencer. But don't try anything kinky with Verity's vegetable stew or oatmeal muffins. Understood?"

There was a titter of nervous laughter from around the room. The warning had certainly not been subtle.

Spencer just shrugged, sinking deeper into his chair and concentrating on his drink and his pipe.

Doug Warwick frowned and took control of the conversation. Ice tinkled in his glass as he looked at Jonas. "How do you plan to approach this job, Quarrel?"

Jonas took a sip of scotch. "The first step will be to go through each of the wings and verify age and authenticity. It's largely a matter of making sure I'm working with the original structure, and not being misled by sections added on at a later date. Digby's relative might have imported part of a villa and had the rest designed and built to match. It's not an uncommon practice."

Doug nodded. "I see. I hadn't thought of that."

Jonas picked up his glass. "Once I've given the place a thorough walk-through, I'll get down to details.

Fifteenth-and sixteenth-century architects were fairly predictable. Even the uninspired ones were very fond of mathematical symmetry, for example." He then launched into an impressive discussion of Renaissance laws of perspective and how they had influenced architecture.

Everyone in the room nodded wisely. Verity hid a smile behind her glass. Jonas had not spent all those years on campus for nothing—he could shoot the academic bull with the best of them. From across the room he saw her smile, and laughter danced in his eyes.

The shared joke made her realize something important. Somewhere along the line they had become a couple. They were at the point where they could exchange silent laughter in a room full of people. She shared ties with Jonas that had nothing to do with their psychic connection.

The knowledge warmed her. She took another sip of fruit juice and mentally added another day to the monthly calendar in her mind. There was still no indication that she might only be irregular. This was beginning to look like the real thing. The realization made her feel strange. She was heading inexorably toward a major turning point in her life, one for which she had never prepared herself.

The evening meal was composed mainly of mashed potatoes and carrots. Maggie Frampton had done her best to accommodate the preferences of the Warwicks' guests, but it was obvious that she was not accustomed to cooking meatless meals.

"A good hamburger never hurt no one," she muttered as she cleared away the last of the dishes. "What do you folks do for protein?"

Verity found herself seated between Oliver Crump and Slade Spencer during dinner. Slade was rather boring. He was obviously quite drunk, and his conversation consisted of a long monologue on the innate sexuality of the spheres.

Oliver Crump was another matter. He said little, his eyes introspective behind the round frames of his glasses. But when Verity drew him out with a discussion of cooking and medicinal herbs, he proved very knowledgeable.

On the opposite side of the long table Jonas was seated between Preston Yarwood and Elyssa. The two of them kept him occupied all evening. Every time Verity glanced over she was partially blinded by Elyssa's gleaming rings and exotic bracelets.

Elyssa did not announce her surprise entertainment for the evening until after dinner.

"Now, then," she said as she led the group back into the salon. "I hope you're all in the mood for a special treat. Preston has offered to guide us in a psychic-clarity session. We thought it would be a wonderful way to help Jonas begin his search for the treasure."

Doug groaned. "Sorry, Jonas. I didn't know they were going to pull this. Feel free to opt out."

"What the hell's a psychic-clarity session?" Jonas asked warily.

"A session in which we all try to unite our individual energies into a single force that is capable of lifting all of us onto a higher plane. Once we are on that higher level we can communicate far more clearly and intuitively. It's very effective for relaxing and opening up the mind. I'm sure you'll find it helpful."

"Sounds like bullshit to me," Jonas said politely.

Verity groaned and poked Jonas in the ribs with the handle of her cane. "This is business, Jonas," she muttered. "Behave yourself."

Jonas massaged his ribs and smiled dangerously at her for a second. "I'll tell you what. You folks go ahead with your session while I have a look around the villa."

"Oh, you really must join us, Jonas." Elyssa's eyes were beseeching. "The sessions are so stimulating.

Sometimes I'm able to contact Saranantha. I'm becoming a channeler for her, you know," she added modestly. "I've just started picking up on her recently, but I'm getting better at communicating with her."

Verity heard Slade Spencer snicker faintly, and she knew that Jonas was having a hard time keeping his mouth shut. It was time for another shot of diplomacy.

"I didn't know you were a channeler," Verity said quickly. "Who is Saranantha?"

It was Preston Yarwood who answered the question. He gazed fondly at Elyssa, "Saranantha appears to be a high-ranking temple priestess from a land called Utilan. From what we can tell so far, Utilan may have been a lost colony of Atlantis. Elyssa has only recently established contact, so we still have much to learn."

Doug waved Jonas toward the hall. "I don't blame you one bit for wanting out of this nonsense. Go have a look around. We'll play Elyssa's little parlor game here while you're out getting your bearings. Watch your step, and stay in the south wing until tomorrow. I think I mentioned that the other three wings were never wired for electricity. You start wandering around in there and you might never come back out."