Isolde heard a cell phone ringing and turned to find Malachai in deep conversation. He logged off with a snap and gave her a swift kiss, filled with promise.<br/><br/>"I have to head back to the club. Something is amiss." he explained.<br/><br/>She nodded and floated a little wave of fingers his direction. She went inside and shut the shop door, then leaned against the plate glass. He drove off in a screech of sports car tires. It was just as well, she thought and turned to gather her orders. The light on the answering machine was blinking and Isolde absently  clicked it.<br/><br/>A gravely voice was ordering black roses and gave the address of delivery. Isolde paid no attention as the man gave a credit card number. Just before she hung up, a breathy laugh erupted from the recording. She was taken aback but shrugged. People were crazy.