Death of an Adept

It went without saying that he had to be stopped. But in order to stop Raeburn, the Hunting Lodge first had to find him. The Taliere connection was a beginning - but only a beginning. Adam was just considering where to take his inquiries next when there was a light knock at the door.

He rose to answer the summons, expecting to see Humphrey standing on the threshold with a tray in his hands. Instead, he was more than a little surprised to be confronted by Ximena.

She had exchanged her working clothes for a quilted-silk dressing gown and Oriental slippers in a matching shade of opulent jade-green. Her long dark hair, still slightly damp from her shower, was hanging loose about her shoulders, and her oval face was clear as apple-blossom. In her hands she bore a silver-and-enamel tray upon which reposed a plateful of toasted sandwiches and a Limoges chocolate service for two. Lifting her eyes to meet his, she gave him a demure smile and a mock curtsy.

"Good evening, sir! I believe you ordered a collation?"

Adam covered his surprise with a chuckle. "Yes, I did - but I wasn't expecting service from the mistress of the house herself."

"So it would appear," Ximena noted drily. "Are you complaining?"

"Not in the least!" Adam assured her. With a gallant sweep of his arm, he added, "Please, won't you come in?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" she said with a twinkle.

Slipping past him in a whisper of silk, she made her way gracefully over to the hearthside and began arranging the contents of the tray on a side table. Adam closed the door and came to join her.

"I didn't hear you arrive," he remarked with attempted lightness. "How long have you been home?"

"About half an hour," she returned. "I phoned earlier to let you know I was on my way, but Humphrey said you were busy, so I told him not to bother you. Since all the signs indicated you were still ensconced when I got in, I took the opportunity to slip into something more comfortable and grab myself a snack from the kitchen. When I caught Humphrey in the act of making you a midnight feast, it seemed a pity not to make a social occasion of it."

"I'm very glad you did," Adam told her, as she straightened up and turned around.

Ximena cocked her head slightly. "Well, that's a relief. From the blank look on your face when you first opened the door, I thought perhaps I might have made a tactical blunder."

"A thousand apologies. I was still gnawing over the problem I've been working at all evening."

"Then it's time to put the matter behind you," Ximena said firmly.

She reached out and took his hands. The next instant her eyes widened in concern.

"Good Lord, Adam, is anything wrong? Your hands are like ice!"

"No, no," Adam made haste to reassure her. "It's nothing of any consequence. I've just been sitting in one place for a little too long - too idle and distracted to heave another log on the fire."

Even as he spoke, he couldn't quite repress a shiver. Ximena frowned and peered at him more closely.

"Adam, your lips are almost blue! And your fingernails. To look at you, one would almost think you'd been out in a blizzard!"

"On the contrary," Adam protested mildly, "I've been right here in this room all evening."

Ximena's gaze narrowed to a searching glare. "That doesn't make sense. The room's not that cold - in fact, it isn't cold at all. Even if you say you're not ill, there's certainly something amiss. Adam, just what have you been doing?"

There was to be, Adam sensed, no avoiding the issue. Taking care to choose his words, he said, "I've been engaging in what you might call a 'spiritual exercise."

Ximena's frown turned puzzled. "You mean, praying?"

"That's certainly a part of it."

"Hypothermia," Ximena pointed out, "is not generally acknowledged to be a side effect of prayer."

"Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I was meditating," Adam amended. "Some deep meditative states are accompanied by a decrease in heart rate and respiration. Any time the metabolism slows down, the body temperature is naturally going to drop. I've had this happen to me any number of times, and I promise you I'll take no harm by it. All I need is a little time to warm up again. That's why I ordered hot sandwiches and hot chocolate."

"If you say so," Ximena said dubiously, then added, on a more bracing note, "Well, the sooner you get some food inside you, the better! Come and have a sandwich while I pour us some chocolate."

Adam allowed himself to be chivvied over to the settee, where Ximena tucked a tartan rug around his shoulders and then presented him with a filled plate. The sandwiches Humphrey had provided were still warm from the grill, and their fragrance seemed ambrosial. Adam devoured his first helping with grateful abandon, and started in on his second. Only then did he become aware that Ximena was watching him over the rim of her cup, monitoring his progress with a thoughtful eye.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't realize how hungry I was."