Page 30

Chapter

Twenty-One

‘ W as it a good idea to persuade the MET to let Harriet sit in on the interview?’ Thane enquired, as we walked quickly towards Adrienne McDonald’s home.

‘She’s very upset, Kit. She might take it upon herself to attack Fetch Jackson and land herself in deep shit.

The council witches won’t care about her grief, they’ll demand she’s locked up. ’

I couldn’t tell him that Harriet was a Truth Seeker.

‘Harriet is a strong woman. She deserves to be there – she’s one of the few people in Knox’s life who truly cared for him.

She should be able to look her brother’s attacker in the face and hear what he has to say for himself.

’ I sighed. ‘And this might be her only chance.’

He was silent for a moment before he said, ‘I hope that the witches’ council mete out appropriate justice. He’s murdered three people.’

And we had no idea why. I reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers. He gave me a tight smile in return.

Unlike her friends, Adrienne lived in a prosperous part of town.

I knew the neighbourhood; I’d been there on my own murderous business more than once.

It was diverse in terms of Preternaturals, if not in wealth: witches, druids, trolls, dryads, vampires – anyone with a bulging bank balance lived there.

Her street was filled with grand townhouses, and I knew without checking that they’d all have magical security systems in place. Perhaps that was why she hadn’t turned up dead like her schoolfriends. It gave me hope that she was still alright.

We found her house easily, a pretty sandstone affair draped in enchanted lilac wisteria. ‘I wonder if Knox was responsible for this,’ Thane said as he fingered one of the perfect blooms. Most of the other buildings were plant-free, so it was entirely possible.

He stepped up to the door and knocked, using the heavy gold-coloured ring bolted to the glossy moss-green facade.

I moved to the window and peered inside.

Heavy brocade curtains had been pulled back and tied with golden ropes, and I could see the furniture beyond.

The room was tidy and, more importantly, undisturbed.

Nobody had broken in here and ransacked the room.

Thane and I stiffened when there was a sharp clunk but this was no echoing gunshot, merely Adrienne’s neighbour, peering out of her own front door to frown at us. ‘Who are you?’ she demanded suspiciously. ‘What do you want?’

It might be a well-to-do area but it wasn’t friendly. I plastered on my best cat-lady smile. ‘Good afternoon,’ I beamed. ‘Isn’t it a lovely day for this time of year?’ It was already dark but it was the sentiment rather than the accuracy that was important.

The woman folded her arms and glared, not prepared to soften an inch.

‘Hello, ma’am,’ Thane drawled, with a twinkle in his emerald eyes. ‘We’re here to see Adrienne. We shouldn’t have turned up unannounced but we were in the neighbourhood and thought we’d drop by.’ He held out his hand. ‘I’m Thane. This is my friend, Kit.’

Something about his gentlemanly demeanour did the trick because she unfolded her arms and a blush rose up her cheeks. ‘Oh, that’s alright then. Adrienne isn’t in – you just missed her. She left for work about fifteen minutes ago. I saw her go past the window.’

Thane clicked his tongue. ‘She always did work too hard. I suppose she won’t be back until late?’

‘Probably not. She works nights.’

So Adrienne was probably employed by one of the Coldstream grottos like most nymphs were. She’d be unavailable until morning, which was good for her and bad for us.

The woman touched her hair absently, smoothing down a non-existent wayward curl. I glanced from her to Thane and back again. Huh.

‘If you come back late tomorrow morning,’ she said, ‘you should catch her.’

‘Thank you,’ Thane murmured. ‘Thank you so much.’

The woman giggled. I stared. When she returned to her house and closed her door, Thane turned to me and lifted an eyebrow. ‘You’re right,’ he said.

‘About what?’

‘Talking about the weather. There are far better ways to initiate conversation. It didn’t work for me in the bar the other night and now it didn’t work for you.’

‘Well, thank goodness you were here to flirt with her instead!’

Thane swept a bow. ‘I exist only to please,’ he purred. He leaned towards me. ‘But if you think that counts as flirting, Kit, you have a lot to learn.’

Yeah, yeah.

His eyes glinted and he tilted his head, although the effect was lost given that his hair was shorn close to his skull and there were no lustrous locks to fall artlessly across his forehead. His tongue darted out and he slowly wet his lips.

‘Do you need a Chapstick?’ I enquired.

‘Your mouth is all the ChapStick I require,’ he said huskily.

I gave him a long look.

‘I like that outfit,’ Thane continued, oblivious to my amused irritation. ‘Did you buy it at a discount? Because it will be one hundred percent off at my house.’

I folded my arms. ‘Seriously?’

His mouth crooked up. ‘Alright, I admit I’m cheesy. But something about being in your presence makes my thoughts turn to mush.’

‘Is that because you know I could kill you in a heartbeat?’

He clasped his heart. ‘You’ve already killed me. I’ve died and gone to heaven.’

I covered his hand with both of mine. ‘That’s a shame. I’ve always preferred devils to angels.’

His face relaxed into a grin. ‘I think both our approaches could do with some work.’

As his familiar vetiver scent enveloped me, I was suddenly very aware of the heat of his skin beneath my fingers. ‘I wasn’t the one trying to flirt. When I do,’ I whispered, ‘you’ll know about it.’

‘When?’ he whispered back. ‘Not if?’

My mouth was painfully dry. A light flicked on in the front window of the neighbour’s house and the woman peered out at us. If we continued to linger, her suspicions would return. ‘That’s enough messing around.’ I pulled back, hoping I didn’t look too flustered. ‘At least we know Adrienne is okay.’

He sobered, too. ‘Yes – and with Fetch Jackson locked up for the night, she’ll be safe at work. We’ll have to tell her what’s happened to her friends, but I guess that’ll wait until tomorrow.’ He grimaced. ‘There’s no rush for bad news.’

No, there wasn’t. Poor Adrienne.

‘Let’s head back to yours,’ he said. ‘I’ll pick up Tiddles and leave you to get ready.’

I gazed at him, confused. ‘Get ready?’

‘It’s Friday night, Kit. You’ve got a date with Alexander MacTire.’

Oh. I’d forgotten all about that. Shit.

I had absolutely no idea what to wear for dinner with one of the most powerful werewolf alphas in one of Coldstream’s most exclusive restaurants.

My wardrobe wasn’t exactly packed with glitzy evening wear but I managed to find a slinky dark-red cocktail dress.

I’d worn it when I’d been contracted to slip poison into the drink of a high-powered faun who had a habit of cheating his clients out of the contents of their bank accounts.

It had looked good on me then and had helped me gain access to the exclusive party where he was holding court.

Unfortunately that had been some years ago; while the dress was glamorous enough to pass the test of fashion time, I wasn’t quite the lean assassin that I used to be.

I enjoyed my new curves because they made me look softer and feel sexier, but they didn’t quite fit into the dress even when I sucked in my stomach.

She Without An Ear miaowed at me from the door.

‘Alright,’ I muttered. ‘There’s no need for that sort of language.

’ I peeled off the red dress, thrilled to be able to breathe normally again.

Black trousers and a bland top then. If MacTire was disappointed by my outfit then we’d both know that this ‘date’ was a terrible idea.

He Who Roams Wide had returned without giving any indication of where he’d been. Not that I could pass judgment, given my own roaming recently. I gave him a long cuddle then spent time with each of the other cats in turn, promising that I’d be home before midnight.

I was already running late when I darted out of the door towards the middle of Coldstream. Perhaps I’d enjoy myself; perhaps this would become the true romance I’d been missing out on all these years. Stranger things had happened. Then I thought of Thane and grimaced.

The scene was set before I crossed the threshold of Vallese.

Red roses framed the doorway, filling half the street with their perfume; tiny candles lit the red carpet that led to the front door.

A violinist wearing a tuxedo was playing in the guests; the poor guy must have been freezing his balls off, even with thermal long johns and a sprinkling of magical heat to keep his fingers moving.

I turned to the ma?tre’d who was greeting me. ‘This is still January, right? I’ve not fallen asleep and woken up on Valentine’s Day?’

He smiled with such professional suaveness that I felt like the most important customer in the world. ‘No, ma’am, alas this is still January.’ He tapped the side of his nose with a white-gloved finger. ‘Although at Vallese we like to think of every day as Valentine’s Day.’

I returned his smile sweetly. ‘I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.’

The ma?tre’d didn’t miss a beat as he rolled his eyes and whispered, ‘Try working here every day.’

‘Oh, you’re good.’

He winked. ‘Let me show you to your table, Ms McCafferty. Mr MacTire is waiting for you.’

Jeez. The ma?tre’d knew my name. MacTire had probably told him so he could do this performance. That was why I preferred cafes like Pork Pies: I was far more comfortable cloaked in anonymity.