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“Meet you out the back.”

I hung up, put my phone away, and then followed Cynwrig out of the apartment and down the stairs. A black BMW pulled up just as we walked through the front doors. A heartbeat later, the chauffeur—a tall dark elf with a sprinkling of silver in his hair—jumped out and ran around the vehicle to open the rear passenger door and usher us in.

While Cynwrig did have a driving license, he—like many elves, light or dark—preferred to use a chauffeur within Deva’s narrow and often congested streets.

“It didn’t take long for your car to arrive,” I said as the BMW accelerated smoothly away.

“He resides in an apartment around the corner.” A smile ghosted his luscious lips. “Rent free, as part of his wage. We do keep odd hours.”

“Really? Hadn’t noticed.”

My voice was dry, and he chuckled softly. “You, my dear, are a good part of the reason for those odd hours of late.”

“Meandthe bevy of beautiful women you have at your beck and call.”

“I do not have a bevy.”

I gave him my best “don’t believe it for a second” expression. “I’m guessing your definition of bevy and mine are two very different things.”

“A bevy is a number of at least ten. EvenIcouldn’t cope with that many women demanding my attention. There’d be six—seven at a maximum.”

His smoky eyes twinkled, leaving me wondering if he was joking or not. Elves in general had a voracious appetite when it came to sex, and the dark elves were particularly well known for their sexual “endeavors.”

“Does this six or seven include the lovely Orlah?”

I couldn’t help the very slight but very evident edge in my voice. Orlah was a tall, dark-skinned elf with long, curly black hair and a figure to die for. She’d briefly interrupted our dinner at the upmarket and very expensive Viridis restaurant recently and had made it patently obvious she intended to reignite their relationship.

He and I might be short-term rather than long, but the warmth in his tone and manner in which he’d greeted her suggested theirs had been more thanjusta sexual relationship. And I didn’t wantoursto end. Not just yet anyway.

He studied me for a long moment. “Is that the green head of jealousy rising once again?”

“No, it is not.”

I said it firmly, but he nevertheless laughed. “I’m delighted, I truly am, but there is no need. As I said at the time, she was—and is—merely a bed companion.”

“And asIsaid at the time, we’re both free agents.”

His dark eyebrows quirked upward. “Does this mean you have another date with the ‘lovely’ Eljin?”

The emphasis he put on “lovely” was somewhat derogatory, but I ignored it. “It does indeed. Tonight, in fact.”

“And does he take you somewhere special?”

I met his gaze squarely. “When you tell me about your dates, I’ll tell you about mine.”

He laughed again, caught my hand, and kissed my fingers. “You delight me, Bethany Aodhán.”

I wasn’t entirely sure how to take that statement, so I ignored it.

It didn’t take us long to get across to the tavern. The chauffeur drew up beside the lane that ran down to the tavern’s rear exit. After telling his driver that he’d ring if he was needed again, we both climbed out and ran down the narrow but well-lit lane. I spotted one man lurking in the doorway of a small loading bay belonging to another shop, but suspected Sgott would have others out here.

He was, as promised, waiting near the rear door. He was a big man, with thick, wiry brown hair, brown skin, and a fierce, untamable beard.

“You need to be giving me the new door code,” he said. “It would save me time and you the trouble of always coming back here if something happens.”

“I will, but you should also know that I’m never not going to come here if there’s a problem.”

“Aye,” he said, in a way that spoke as much to sorrow as pride, “in that you are very much your mother’s daughter.”