Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 347

As Chris liked to put it, people her age usually had plenty of energy-eight or nine out of ten, easy.

But Sylvia? She was running on half that, if she was lucky.

And she'd even been warned to ration what little she had left.

Maybe that was just the price of getting a second chance at life.

Sylvia snapped back to reality, trying to act cool and carry on.

But the man beside her gave a little wave of his hand. "Go check out the front."

Mr. Lennon, ever the eager host, jumped in, "Good eye, Mr. Rupert. All the rare gems are up there. This way, please."

Rupert nodded and walked past Sylvia, barely glancing her way.

Suddenly, Sylvia felt a rush of warmth in her palm. She froze, startled.

Once everyone else had moved ahead, she opened her hand.

A palm-sized hand warmer, soft and pink, sat in her palm.

How on earth did Rupert have something like this?

"Sylvia!" Mr. Lennon called from up ahead.

"Coming!"

the hand warmer, hurrying to catch

lit only by spotlights over the display cases. Around them, the

near the edge, ready to chime in and clap at

crowd shifted around her, and suddenly a clean, cool scent swept in. Someone's breath was warm against her

to move, but a hand closed

voice murmured, meant for her ears alone. Sylvia stiffened, trying to pull away, but he only drew

budge. She hissed quietly, "Uncle Rupert,

rubbing her hand as if he hadn't heard a

wasn't cold at all-in fact, she was burning up with

leading everyone to the next case, Sylvia's breath

lifted her foot and ground her heel into

she spat, "Uncle Rupert.

voice teasing and dangerous. "Got your strength back. Guess you're

for the shadows

His eyes flicked to her ear, the ghost of a smile on

the exhibit hall when Bridget's shriek pierced

you

to me!" chuckled a big man

thunderous as

jewel show

met a few designers, chatting and smiling as she

When she came out, she saw the seamstress who'd