Chapter 11

In Which Lucian Trips Over His Jaw That Fell On the Floor

The stranger had light brown hair – rather tousled, Erika thought dryly, but in a pleasing manner – and light blue eyes that could smile on their own. He was of a similar build as Lucian, and dressed as a rich man would, with an expensive winter overcoat and a suit. Erika just caught a glimpse of a dark blue velvet vest under the coat when he had looked up. Big deal.

For the second time that day, Erika had an opportunity to observe Lorenz. In contrast to the stranger's masculine face, Lorenz's deep brown eyes and dark – almost black – hair rendered him instantly recognizable and also hotter than any other guy in the greater Budapest area. He hadn't noticed Erika.

The stranger recovered himself instantly from the shock of seeing Erika – twenty feet up – peeking around the corner of the house. He made a limited finger gesture to his buddy, and Lorenz looked up, exhibiting surprise as he noticed Erika on her perch. He muttered something back to the other man, and the stranger called up to Erika.

"Hey, we're looking for Sonja Dumak! Would you mind showing us in?" The young man was perfectly serious, yet the expression on his face made Erika feel that he was quite amused.

"Oh! Uh, sure," replied Erika, a little flustered – partly because of the stranger's manner and partly because of Lorenz's presence. Jumping from her roost, she was on the ground in less than two seconds.

"Thanks," said Lorenz, stepping onto the huge, pillared square of the front step. His buddy followed suit. "If you would be so kind…?" Lorenz made a polite gesture toward the door.

Ten minutes and ten pounds of muscle later, Erika held the door open with an effort as the men went in, then led them toward the lounge, hoping that Tomáš and the others had finished with their furniture shifting. To her relief, they had.

"Make yourselves at home," she told them, showing them into the lounge. The stranger seated himself on the luxurious high-backed leather couch, while Lorenz remained standing.

"I think Sonja is just finishing up with afternoon tea," Erika informed them. "If you can loan me your calling cards, I'll take them to her and tell her that you're here."

"Fair enough," answered the stranger, and he handed it to her. It was a simple yet sophisticated card, printed with… gasp… BLACK INK!!!!!!!!

"Here's mine," added Lorenz. He placed his own card in her hand.

As she was hurrying away, Erika peeked at the first card. It read:

Michael Corvin

Gera and Kiraly's Community College of Székesféhervár

No. 117 Spartan Street

Székesféhervár

1-343-087-2401

"I know that school," Erika said to herself. "Lucian was thinking about going there. And the name was Corvin! It must be Sonja's e-mail buddy." She giggled. "Lorenz Macaro and Michael Corvin. We're in for some pretty wild times around here."

Entering the dining room, Erika found Sonja just rising from her meal with Lucian, Viktor and Amelia being absent.

"Hey, Sonja, there are some guys here to see you," Erika said. "Here are their calling cards."

Sonja eagerly swiped them and read their contents in the span of a nanosecond. "Ah!"

Lucian stood up, following her movements with his eyes. "What's going on?"

Sonja blushed and lowered her eyes self-consciously. "More visitors," she said hurriedly. Sonja turned back to Erika, not seeing the fire that appeared in Lucian's eyes. "Tell them I'll be right down. Oh, and thanks!"

"No problem," replied Erika, slightly bemused, as Sonja brushed past her in unusual haste.

Lucian eyed Erika, his fingers tight around his cup. "Who the heck is 'they'?" He suppressed an animal snarl.

Erika was careful to keep her expression neutral; while Lucian was not known for outbursts of temper – unlike Viktor – he appeared to be in a rather dangerous mood. "Lorenz Macaro and this guy Michael Corvin are here to see Sonja."

The cup shattered as Lucian crushed it. "Lorenz Macaro and Michael Corvin." It was more of a statement that a question, filled with burning hatred.

"Yes, Lucian. Is there a law against people visiting other people?" said Erika.

Lucian stared hard at the wall, trying to fight the instinctive transformation. "Tell them that I'll be down as well – to kill them both," he told her quietly. His voice quivered with rage.

"Very well, Lucian. I didn't know vendettas were your thing."

"SHUT UP AND TELL THEM!"

Erika raced off through the stately front hall and opened one of the lounge's double doors. She could see Lorenz, near the side of the room, admiring a painting of Dracula. The stranger – Michael Corvin – was singing quietly along with a song on his MP3 player. Barely audible sounds leaked from his earphones.

"Hey."

He turned, and pushed pause. "Oh, hey," he said. "What did she say?"

"She'll be right down."

"Good. Thanks a ton," he said, pressing a hundred euro note to her breast as Lorenz looked on in amusement.

Erika's jaw dropped, and in that instant she completely forgot about Lucian's malicious message. "What the frick?" she said. Not that she was complaining. About the money. "You don't have to pay me. Especially not this much."

"No, I really don't," he responded. "But you will accept it as a gift, will you not?"

"Thank you! You're sweet," Erika said gratefully, as eleven point eight billion billion uses for the money rushed through her mind.

"De nada, mi señorita," he said amiably, waving his hand. "I have no use for it. Now, I'm sure you have other stuff to do."

"True." Erika shook his hand and exited. Behind her in the lounge, Lorenz settled into a chair and turned to his buddy.

"I'm taking a huge risk coming here," he admitted to his friend.

"Really?" Michael looked interested.

Lorenz looked wry. "I managed to detonate Lucian like a mine by telling him I had a gift for Sonja. He was—" here Lorenz paused, trying to choose the most fitting word – "overzealous about it. Of course I couldn't tell him that you were the gift, or the surprise would have been spoiled." He sighed. "Now he's pretty cheesed off, I imagine."

"Sounds like he might have thought that your 'gift' was something entirely different," said Michael, with a hint of amusement.

Lorenz eyed him and abruptly changed the subject. "So, Michael, tell me how you're familiar with Sonja. Did you meet her in some chat room on MySpace?"

Michael took off his gloves, willing to let the previous subject go. "BigSoccer, actually. Some AC Milan board, long story, don't ask. Naturally, I'm rather ill at ease about meeting her. Is she really a girl?"

To Michael' surprise, Lorenz burst out laughing. "Now I know you've never seen her," he grinned, his dark eyes searching Michael curiously. "Sonja Dumak is quite female. Considered one of the hottest girls in the country, least of all the city. Very much sought after, so to speak."

"Ah, yes," said Michael. "The old 'every-guy-wants-to-date-her' scheme."

Lorenz grinned. "Something like that."

"Is she married?" Michael asked, curious.

Lorenz raised his eyebrows. "I think you'd be the first to know, if she were," he answered, casually. "Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing."

Instantly Michael was alert. "Really. I wonder why," he remarked innocently. His blue eyes darted to Lorenz's face.

"Not why you think," Lorenz said, rather brusquely. "I've never been married, and have no immediate plans to be. I've seen what it can do to people. Although Sonja is beyond a doubt one of the nicest – not to mention one of the hottest – girls I've ever met."

"Good to know," said Michael.

There was a pause, then: "It'll be good to see Lucian again, won't it?" asked Lorenz.

"Heck, yeah," said Michael, his eyes lighting up. "I haven't seen him since he was colleging. Even when I realized that Sonja was living in his inexplicable relative's mansion, I couldn't get up enough nerve to come visit. But now…" His voice trailed off. Or could you tell.

"What?" asked Lorenz.

Before either of them could say anything else, the door opened and Sonja entered the room. The pearl combs in her hair glowed like… pearl… combs… in… her hair, cooled by the smooth ocean-blue-gray of her eyes.

The two young men rose to their feet and offered their hands; if Michael was surprised, he did a darn good job of hiding it.

Sonja shook their hands courteously. "You took long enough about it, Lorenz," she twinkled at him. She turned her gaze to Michael, and questions spontaneously were there.

Lorenz sensed them. "Sonja, this is an old buddy of mine, Michael Corvin. He and I know each other from… uh… college. Michael, this is Sonja Dumak. The girl from the AC Milan boards."

Michael shook Sonja's hand warmly; only a twinkle in his eye betrayed the formality of the gesture. "It's an honor, Miss Dumak."

Sonja smiled. "No, the honor is mine, Mr. Corvin," she said like Morpheus. "Especially after all these e-mails. You could call it a dream come true."

He grinned, relaxed at her tone. "You're as sweet as your mail, Miss Dumak. By the way, call me Michael."

"Of course," Sonja agreed, and added archly, "and you are hereafter required to call me Sonja. We know each other already, and all this formality crap is quite arbitrary." She turned to Lorenz. "I might have known that you'd turn up with a surprise like this!" she laughed. "Come on, let's sit down."

"Yes, let's," assented Michael, settling into the same couch as before.

Lorenz stood uneasily.

"Lorenz, what's wrong?" asked Sonja.

He responded, "I have to go now."

"Awww, man," she said. "What pressing matters clamor so loudly for your attention?" She raised an eyebrow playfully.

Lorenz took a deep breath. "Lucian's angry with me," he said slowly, obviously reluctant to trouble her. "He said that he would kill me if he ever saw me here again."

Sonja stared at him, horror dawning in her eyes. "Lucian said what? He's your freaking friend, for Cash's sake!"

It was rare that Lorenz was made uncomfortable, but no other word could describe his state of mind just then. "I really have to go," he said, and turned toward the door.

Just then, it opened. Lucian entered, elegantly dressed. "Hello, Macaro," he said grimly, fixing his attention on him alone.

Lorenz started toward him. "Lucian—"

"SHUT UP!" snapped Lucian tightly, coming forward; Michael was behind him, invisible from Lucian's point of view. "To you I'm nobody. Not Lucian. Not Žewłakow. NOBODY! You are not my friend ANYMORE! Now get the frick out!"

"LUCIAN, you stop this at once!" said Sonja vehemently, rising from her seat. "I am not going to stand by and watch you ruin your life over something as insignificant as this!"

Lucian looked as though he had seen Sonja's clothes disappear. Lorenz interrupted again, before Lucian could say anything else. "Listen, Lucian, if you'd just let me say two words—"

"Okay, fine. Two," said Lucian coldly, turning back to him.

"Michael Corvin," said Lorenz simply.

Michael rose from his seat and winked, smiling amusedly. "He's right, you know, Lucian. You two had better make out—"

Before he could correct his mistake, Lucian exploded. He lost his balance and fell to the floor, roaring with laughter. Sonja followed suit.

Michael sat himself back down and turned his music on with the volume turned way up just so he could hear it over the racket, tapping his fingers to the rhythm.

Still laughing.

Michael looked at his watch.

Still laughing.

He had gone through a whole playlist and was starting on another one.

NOW, they were calming down.

"Did I say 'make out'? I meant make UP!" Michael said with deliberation.

Lucian, having gotten enough air to speak without cracking up, managed to wheeze, "Michael?"

Michael seized Lucian's hand, helped him up, and shook it, grinning widely. "That's me. And I sure as heck hope you're happier about me now that you were a few hours ago."

Lucian had never been so perplexed in his life. "Michael, what in the heck – you're the Mr. Corvin that Sonja's constantly e-mailing?"

"Yeah, we trade e-mails, and sometimes instant messages," Sonja broke in, "I never talked to you about it because you were jealous. But that still doesn't explain how you knew Michael."

"Oh, we're old buddies," declared Lucian, unable to keep his eyes off Michael who seemed to be enjoying the whole thing. "Lorenz and I both knew him at college. That was way before I met you," he added.

Michael poked him and said under his breath, "I hear I've been giving you quite a lot of anxiety."

Lucian looked at him sharply. "How the heck did you—"

Michael grinned. "You see these two round things above my nose? They're called eyes, I use them to see things."

"You don't need to be so freaking untactful," retorted Lucian.

Michael shrugged. "Hey, tactfulness can be useful. But I fancy forwardness."

"Gee, thanks for telling me, I never would have guessed," muttered Lucian wryly as Michael began talking with Sonja. He turned to Lorenz.

"Hey, Lorenz, uh… can I talk to you for a second?"

Lorenz threw a glance over at Sonja and Michael, who were armwrestling on a couch. "Sure, sure," he said. They left the lounge and crossed the hall.

Their footsteps didn't echo because the wooden floor had a red carpet on it, so there were no tiny insignificant clicks that mirrored the uncertain mood. Ghostly ghostlike-things of doubt hovered between the two once-good friends. Lucian cleared his throat and faced the other.

"Lorenz," he began, then stopped. "I'm so sorry."

Lorenz's eyes were filled with the concern of a concerned old friend. "It's okay. You didn't know." After a pause, he added, "I understand."

Lucian gave a half-laugh, half-snort and ran his fingers through his long hair. "It's just that… um… well, I…" He drew the curtain back from a tall glass window and stared out at the white world. "I care about Sonja," he said finally, apparently he thought Lorenz didn't know. "I care about what happens to her and all. I don't want people bugging her, like Nicolae does."

From behind, Lorenz studied Lucian. He became intimately familiar with his ass. "I'm sure you do," he said. "And I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

Lucian desperately tried to ward off the sober mood with a shrug. "I guess I was a little unreasonable. But there's not a whole lot of time before I leave for the United States, and… well…" Lucian stopped again, unwilling to discuss his most personal wishes, even with Lorenz. What's so personal about playing Halo?

Lorenz pretended to understand. "Oh, you don't need to explain everything. It's none of my business, anyways."

Sonja was amused to say the least. "You really thought I was going to be like Dominique Ačimova, constantly giggling due to sugar inhalation? After all those e-mails? And especially the AC Milan encounter?" She laughed. "Oh man."

Michael shrugged and grinned. "You never really know people on the Internet until you meet them in person."

Her face still registered incredulity. "Well, I hope you're not too disappointed. If you are, I can bring you to the Ačimovič estate, where Dominique will surely be delighted to see you," she laughed.

A look of horror came over Michael's face. "The mere thought of that makes my skin crawl! Lucian's told me all about her – I cringe at the name Dominique."

Sonja smiled – it was almost a grin. "You should," she remarked.

"What? Is she after Lucian?"

She raised her eyebrows. "You really should join the military. They could probably put your keen sense of perception to good use."

Michael guffawed. "That's a good one. Lorenz calls me 'Legolas.' He says I can see far away."

Sonja darted him a laughing glance. "Lorenz would say that."

Michael' face broke into a grin. "You're dang right he would. He's a nice guy – darn perceptive, too, in his own way. But you still haven't answered my question."

"What, about Dominique? Michael, EVERY girl wants to be 'after' Lucian," Sonja replied wryly. "With the exception of a few."

Michael decided not to pursue the matter further. "Oh, Sonja," he said, "remember your promise."

She looked at him questioningly. "What promise are you talking about?"

"Don't tell me you forgot!" he teased her. "The promise about your parents? Remember? You said in one of your e-mails that you'd tell me about them when I came to see you."

Sonja smiled archly. "Ohh, right. Don't tell me you came all this way just to find out about my parents? Come on…"

"Come on yourself," he replied. "That is totally not the reason – I happen to have a another legitimate reason for this." And he gave her a teasing smile. "I have to admit that that mystery played a motivating part in my trip. Anyway, I'm darn sure that a girl as beautiful as yourself wouldn't dream of breaking her word," he pressured her.

Sonja adopted a mock-stern expression. "Of course not. No. And I will not tolerate petty flattery. You suck for trying to flatter me." She looked quite prim.

Michael chuckled. "Sorry, señorita. I pray that you will forgive me and spare my life." He cracked his neck joints which made Sonja jump out of her skin. "Please tell me about your parents?" There was a flash of urgency in his eyes that betrayed his casual tone.

"Okay, if you insist." Sonja paused and sobered. "My account is – not in any way glamorous," she said quietly. It wasn't mournful; but at the same time, it was anything but happy. "My dad was a sailor. He disappeared when his ship, the Flying Dutchman, was dragged down to the depths by some gigantic tentacled thing with a big mouth and really bad breath.

"Soon after that, my mom got really sick and died. I was eight at the time. Their neighbors, the Bogrovs, took me in, but they had to go to the pound when their business went belly-up." She looked away. "I wanted to stay with them, but the man in charge said I could earn my way by myself – they were already packed out there. I had to join a traveling music company."

Here Michael interrupted, "You HAD to join a traveling…? Uh, forget it. Go on."

"I met Lucian at a concert the company gave. He persuaded his inexplicable relative, Viktor Žewłakow, to take me in. I was twenty then."

Michael was silent for a time. "Wow. Sucked to be you. But not anymore, obviously. It must be great to have a place like this as a permanent residence."

Sonja lifted her eyebrows. "I wouldn't say permanent. When I get married, I'm moving out."

"Ah. Maybe that won't be such a trial after all," said Michael, enigmatically.

Sonja gave him a surprised look. "What in the heck do you mean?"

Before Michael could explain, Lucian reentered. "Lorenz left," he said to Michael. "He'll send the limo back of you need it." Lucian sat down. "PLEEEEEEEEZ stay with us! PLEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEZ! It'll be great!"

Michael shot a quick glance at Sonja and started to protest. "I really shouldn't inconvenience you—"

"Ohhhhhhhhhh no, Michael," Sonja interrupted. "None of that. You'd be inconveniencing us if you didn't stay. I promise you, we'll love it if you stick around. You'll love it."

Michael shrugged. "Aw, heck. Why not?" Then he grinned as he added, "What could happen?"