Winds of Nightsong. V. J. Banis

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      Caroline was still trembling.

      To her surprise the woman laughed. “Someone isn’t out to kill you, are they?” Her accent was strictly New York, and there was a hardness in her tone that told Caroline the woman was no stranger to danger.

      “Kill me?” Caroline gasped. “Good heavens, no. I’m just an American tourist without an enemy in the world.”

      The woman put out her hand. “I’m Alice Pendergast.”

      “Caroline Nightsong.”

      “The San Francisco Nightsongs?”

      “Yes. Do you know my family?”

      Alice chuckled. “Everyone who reads a newspaper knows the famous Nightsongs.”

      Caroline looked hurt.

      “I’m sorry,” Alice said. “I work for a New York paper. Fashions mostly, but I take an interest in anything newsworthy.” She stepped out of the doorway and inspected the top of the building again. “I think it looks safe enough. Isn’t it odd that no one came out to see what the crash was?”

      Caroline let herself be led away. “I can’t begin to thank you enough for shoving me into that doorway.”

      “Forget it, Caroline.” She laughed again. “Everyone says I’m the pushy type.”

      Caroline groaned at the pun. “A newspaper reporter. Sounds exciting.”

      “As I said, I mostly cover fashions. The newspaper business is still in the Dark Ages when it comes to letting women reporters cover anything but food and clothing. Still, I do a lot of digging on my own and turn the material in to the editor who usually prints it under his own byline. Someday we women will be liberated from this male-oriented world.”

      “I’m not sure I want to be liberated. It’s rather safe to be a woman.”

      “Safe? You mean like back there when someone tried to knock you on the head with a slab of concrete?”

      “I’m certain it was an accident.”

      Alice shrugged. “I don’t believe in accidents like that.”

      “Please, Alice, let’s not talk about it. You’ll have me believing that someone really did try to do me in, as they say in the mystery thrillers.”

      “Sorry. Don’t listen to me. I’m always turning everything into a melodrama. I see sinister things everywhere.” She frowned. “Still, I would like to know how that piece of masonry found its way from the roof to the cobblestones.”

      “I’m sure it wasn’t intended for me.”

      “Yes, I’m sure it wasn’t,” Alice said, trying to sound reassuring. She tugged at Caroline’s arm. “Come on, let’s go over to Luigi’s for a stiff one.”

      “Luigi’s? We can’t. They won’t let two unescorted ladies in.”

      “Stick with me, kiddo. I know every back door in Venice. Come on.”

      Caroline found Alice Pendergast delightful company. She was free and open and said whatever was on her mind. She was pretty enough under her veneer of hardness, which Caroline decided was deliberately applied. Her hair was a soft blonde, her eyes—behind the glasses—were deep, deep blue. She wore no makeup, and her clothes were almost mannish.

      “You’re April Nightsong’s daughter?” Alice said as they settled themselves in Luigi’s at a small table separated from the larger front room by a velvet drape.

      “Yes.”

      “But your real name isn’t Nightsong. It’s something French.” She knit her brows, thinking. “Andrieux. Yes, that’s right, isn’t it?”

      “You have an astonishing memory.”

      “I have a mind like an elephant’s.” She paused. “Your father was killed last year, I read.”

      Caroline nodded as she sipped her drink. “He wasn’t much of a father to me. I was raised by my grandmother.”

      “The Nightsong Chronicles were well publicized. I’d like to meet your grandmother. From what I’ve read, she’s a remarkable woman.”

      “Very remarkable.”

      “They never did find your half-brother, did they? Adam? Wasn’t that his name?”

      Caroline felt uneasy. “Yes. Adam. No, they never found him.” She recalled her grandmother’s letter telling her about Adam’s disastrous reunion with his real mother, at which time it was decided that Adam would keep his identity as the new Lord Clarendon, and that his true origins would be kept secret unless he himself chose to reveal them.

      “And you have another brother, a few years younger than you.”

      “Marcus. He’s somewhere in Europe running around in racing machines, I understand.”

      “Racing machines? How thrilling. I must meet him one day.” She sipped her drink. “Your grandmother retired, I understand. Who’s running the cosmetics business?”

      “Uncle Leon, my mother’s brother—until grandmother decides she’s tired of doing nothing.”

      “Ah yes, Leon. I do recall now. His father was heir apparent to the Manchu throne until the republicans took over. You have royal blood then?”

      Caroline laughed softly. “Like my Uncle Leon. I do not like to think about it.”

      “And your mother?”

      “My mother is a different matter entirely. She’s quite proud of the fact that she’s a Chinese princess, and she expects all the privileges accorded to royalty. I’m afraid we don’t get along very well.”

      Alice emptied her glass. “Well, I’m off,” she said as she got up and put out her hand. “I hope to see you again, Caroline. I’m staying at the Amalfi. Call me for lunch. I expect to be in Venice for quite a while.”

      “I’ll do that, Alice. And thank you again for the shove back there,” Caroline said with a laugh.

      “If you like, I’ll walk you to your hotel just in case there are more pieces of loose masonry on somebody’s roof.”

      Caroline declined the offer with more thanks. She didn’t think the falling stone was anything but an accident. She put it completely out of her mind once she was back in her hotel room and sprawled across the bed for her afternoon nap. However, she couldn’t forget that had it not been for Alice Pendergast she might well be dead now.

      Being dead might not be so bad, she decided as she began thinking of Adam again. She closed her eyes and punched the pillow. She had to stop thinking of him.

      When Caroline opened her eyes again, it was six o’clock. Tonio would be calling for her at eight. Caroline stretched and got up from the bed to start getting dressed.

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