The established meeting place was an expensive Italian restaurant. It looked like a place where one would need to stay several hours in a queue before entering. This evening, though, about a third of tables were empty, not that it made much difference, because I arranged a private room for us, anyway.
The WaitingForMyHeart's proxy wasn't there yet when I sat down, and I looked around with a frown, wondering if there were any hidden cameras. Would someone notice if I were to talk with JJ?
I turned towards him. JJ stood half a step behind my shoulder with a pensive expression that mirrored mine. His alert eyes scanned the surroundings with a vigilance that made me feel safer in an instant. His presence alone next to me was calming.
He smiled at me when our eyes met, and I returned it before looking towards my menu and assuming a pose of a bored person waiting. Thankfully, that didn't take long. In less than two more minutes, my client had arrived.
The man ignored JJ—like he should have, with all the glamour that dripped from him—and walked straight to me with an apologetic smile on his bright, boyish face.
"Good evening, Diana Daniilovna! Forgive me for being late."
I stood up to greet him with a smile of my own and shook his hand. "Just call me by name, Sergey, you make me feel old."
Sergey looked barely older than me and had a look to him that reminded me of Kirill. He felt like a gentle soul, and I wondered what he was doing working for a vamp. There was a certain sincerity in his friendliness that made me feel more relaxed around him.
He chuckled with good humour. "You really have no reasons for something like that, Diana."
I accepted the compliment with a pleased grin. The two of us sat down and the typical business meeting ensured.
As someone who picked the place, I offered Sergey, whom I didn't dub as anything because he was just nice like that, some advice on dishes to pick (which was mostly a blind guess from me, someone who've been there for the first time as well).
The beverages to choose were important, too. Wine was an important part of Italian cuisine, as much as I wasn't a lover, and of business negotiations.
Often the difference between making a good deal and not making one was the fullness of a client's stomach and the pleasant buzzing of alcohol in his veins. People in a good mood tended to be much more amiable as well as pliable.
And right now, I treated this meeting as if the treat of an attack wasn't present. That was the only way to work in business mode. It did help that Sergey seemed as harmless as they got, while making no passes at me. It was all pure business and maybe some good-natured small talk.
And haggling, of course. Not much of it, though. Sergey's boss belonged to a great kind of clients who didn't care for the amount of money they spent. Sergey himself didn't seem too concerned about the price I set, either.
"Two hundred thousand is nothing," he said, shaking his head and smiling. "Besides, the item is well worth it for the right people."
Right people who amassed wealth for centuries. Would be nice for them to give it all to me now, if they didn't use it themselves.
From what I researched and JJ told me, the coffin with working seal could've easily cost four to eight times as much. There were also implications of its history, something that could've easily raised the price or brought me a lot of trouble.
I grinned. "How about three hundred then?"
Sergey chuckled. "I'm a believer of moderation in all things. If you keep raising the price, you might as well just ask me to give you all my money. Which aren't even mine, as a matter of fact."
"Right." I nodded, still feeling good. "Two hundred then. We will sign a contract of sale, and after you wire the money, I will arrange a delivery company to send the coffin to the address of your choosing. Is that acceptable?"
Two times a day even a broken clock tells the right time. Three times in a month weather forecast says the truth. Four times a year even horoscopes didn't lie. Apparently.
"Certainly."
I pulled out a pre-made contract, a simple thing to make the sale legal just in case, and a pen. Sergey signed everything in his name, which made no difference to me. I guessed that vamps rarely owned legal IDs, especially old ones, anyway. Kind of hard to register when you should be a couple centuries as dead.
I had to purse my lips to not laugh with joy and relief like a lunatic when Sergey pushed my copy of the contract towards me. Finally, a success! Sometimes it was great to be wrong about things.
We packed our things and, feeling generous from the great deal, I paid for both our bills. We both stood up. I intended to leave, and at first it appeared like Sergey did too, but then he turned to me.
"It was a pleasure to make business with you, Diana."
He reached a hand out for a handshake, and I moved to accept it without thinking, when a palm on my shoulder made me pause.
JJ, about whom I almost entirely forgot by now, be that because of my preoccupation or his glamour, spoke in my ear. "Diana, there appears to be—"
I didn't know what he intended to say. In the next moment, Sergey's eyes went glassy, and he jumped towards me—before everything exploded in a storm of heat and fire.