Ben was wearing the same clothes from the last time she’d seen him: a red flannel shirt, dirty jeans, and work boots. “Henderson’s wants to place an order for another wheel of your cheese. If we’re not careful, we won’t have a vineyard anymore but a cheese cave,” he said as he pulled another bottle. “Thought it might be time to try the eighty-eight Syrah.” He looked up at her with a smile, but his expression changed when he saw her haunted face. “Legs… is something wrong? You’re looking at me funny.”
She shook her head and patted his arm. “No, I think I’m claustrophobic. I couldn’t find the bottle I was looking for, and I panicked from being down here too long. I’ll be all right.”
They walked up the stairs, back to the tasting room together.
Ben kissed Allegra on the forehead and returned to his studio to paint. She couldn’t quite accept that she was truly free, and was shocked to find that he had never been in any danger, that she had been wrong. Of course Charles would never do such a thing as harm a Red Blood. The pretty oak-paneled room was almost empty, save for one customer sitting on a far stool: Kingsley martin. He was nonchalantly reading a newspaper. He looked like any local, just another resident who’d come by to taste the new reds. Allegra approached him hesitantly. “What’s going on?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Kingsley smiled that crooked smile of his. “You’re free to go. I just thought I’d have a drink before I left; see if the cabernet lives up to the hype.”
“Why?” she asked. She wasn’t talking about the wine.
“Charles’s orders.”
“Where is Charles?”
Kingsley shrugged. “Didn’t say. Probably back in New York.” Everything had happened in the glom, and Charles had never even set foot in California.
“So what happens now?” Allegra asked.
The Venator laid down his newspaper. “The way I see it, nothing. I mean, I don’t think you have anything to worry about anymore. As for the bond—that’s up to you and Charles.
But between you and me, I think he’s done.”
Kingsley swirled the wine in his glass and took a long sip.
He tasted it for a moment, letting it cover his tongue. “Alas, taste buds never do come back once you have Croatan blood. I can’t even smell it. Is it good?”
“We’ve had no complaints,” Allegra said.
“I’m sure. Hope you don’t think too badly of us. We didn’t have a choice, you know. We only do what the Regis wants us to.”
Allegra nodded and began to wipe down the counter.
Kingsley read the paper and drank his wine. A thought occurred to her, and she asked suddenly, “Did you guys ever find out what happened with those diseased familiars?”
“What familiars?”
“Charles mentioned that the Red Bloods were dying of some new affliction and that a few of the Wardens were concerned since the disease looked like it was affecting new Committee members.”
/> Kingsley shook his head. “I haven’t seen anything about it in any of my reports.”
“Forsyth knows.”
“Probably his operation, then.” Kingsley nodded.
Allegra found it curious that Charles had not told his lead Venator. Perhaps the threat of the disease had proven to be in-consequential, just as she had thought. She slumped against the counter, holding her head in her hands. She could feel the emotional exhaustion of the ordeal begin to take its toll. She felt as if she had just gotten off a roller coaster, and was drained and relieved in equal measure.
“Oh, before I forget, Charles wanted you to have this.”
Kingsley slid over an envelope.
She tore it open. There was a ring inside. It was a bonding ring. The ring she presented him with in every lifetime. He was returning it to her.
It appears I am not the one this is meant for, Charles had written.
Allegra felt her stomach fall at the pain behind those words. She would keep the ring, she thought, but she would not give it to Ben. She would fashion a new one to mark her fi-delity. But she would hold on to the ring as a memento of her former love, her former life.
“Thank you,” Allegra said. Thank you, Charles.