I had promised to meet Mme Vulcaine at the botánica, but my nerves had not recovered from our last ceremony for Jake.
Instead I went to the Arie Crown Theater on Baz’s business: keeping Sophie away from Yoni.
Yoni’s show went better this time. I watched from the back of the audience, where Baz had found me a seat. He’d said she didn’t like to fly, but her performance was flawless as before. As before, the audience was agitated—but when I thought they would start pairing off again, Yoni softened. Her energy dropped. The goddess attributes I had noted last time ebbed and flowed, but with intention. She had to be aware of her effect.
She was aware—yes, and careful.
I would have to tell Baz of this. He was here somewhere, probably standing behind the curtains, with his hands on the rope that controlled her flying. But he couldn’t see what I was seeing.
I also did not see my little French stalker.
What a bag of monkeys she was. That love potion had taken effect quickly. I sensed her like a small, unruly sun in my chest. Somewhere in this audience she was standing, her face upturned—ah, she must be near the stage—riveted by Yoni’s performance. It should be easy to find her.
I was about to close my eyes and summon her to me as I had done before, but I hesitated. There was too much ambient power in the room. Too much power of love. Yoni’s voice brought out the heat in my chest worse than ever. My little French sun throbbed inside me like toothache, like a hard-on the size of a train.
I gave up. I left the concert and retreated to the front gate. If Sophie were to exit the building there, I would have her. If by chance I lost her, there was only one place she would go, after a concert like this one.