Black Magic Woman (2 page)

“Swamp rats.”

Daphanie grinned. In addition to his entertaining looks, this little guy had quite a way with expletives. His appearance had also gone a long way toward reassuring her that her sister, her family, and she had not all completely lost their minds.

When she’d arrived in Manhattan on Wednesday, just a few days before Danice’s scheduled wedding, she’d expected a warm welcome from her parents and her baby sister. She’d expected to finally get to meet the man who had swept Niecie off her feet. She’d even expected to get caught up on all the family news and gossip that she’d missed since the last time they had gotten together. After all, when the stars aligned like they had to urge her to move back to the city, Daphanie liked to take the hint. What she hadn’t expected had been the news that the Carters’ mixed-race family was about to become mixed-species, because her baby sister’s fiancé was not quite … well, human.

McIntyre Callahan, or Mac, as he’d informed her with a million-watt smile, turned out to be a lovely man, in more ways than one. He had the fair good looks of a Hollywood dreamboat and the body of a leanly muscled action star. Honestly, the man was more beautiful than any human being had a right to be, which was confirmed when they sat Daphanie down and explained that Mac wasn’t entirely a human being.

He was half Fae, as her sister had termed it, the son of a human father and a Fae mother—what Daphanie would previously have thought of as a “fairy,” and honestly still tended to. Looking at the highly masculine and utterly besotted man with his arm curled around Danice’s shoulders, “fairy” had been the last description to come to Daphanie’s mind, but she’d taken their word for it. She had also taken their word on a whole list of other things that threatened to blow her mind and leave her little more than a vacant-eyed, drooling, babbling mental sponge cake on the day of her sister’s wedding. Having expected the mild adventure of an introduction to Mac’s family and close friends, instead she’d received an introduction to the world of the Others.

Talk about being careful what you wished for.

That was what Mac and Niecie called them: The Others. It meant, as Daphanie soon learned, the collection of nonhuman beings who lived and worked in the midst of human society. They could be your neighbor or your friend, the woman who manicured your nails or the man who fixed your leaky toilet. Some were highly placed political or corporate officials, and some were sanitation workers or public servants. The Others had always been there and would always be there, she discovered, and some of them were the creatures of late-night B-rated horror movies.

Missy, Danice’s quiet, kindergarten-teaching friend with the sweet face and soft manner, had married a werewolf last year, Niecie revealed. Missy had even given birth to a werewolf baby (who had not been born with fur, Daphanie had been assured). Reggie, one of Niecie’s other friends, had not only married a vampire, but she’d allowed herself to be turned into a vampire as well.

And those revelations had been only the tip of the iceberg. For three days, Daphanie’s head had been spinning as she tried to take in the fact that everything she’d ever thought was true about the world around her was really only a veneer of truth. Underneath the glossy, everyday surface moved an entirely new and unfamiliar world into which she’d just received a secondhand invitation. It was enough to blow a girl’s mind.

Daphanie’s mind, however, wasn’t blown; it was intrigued.

She marveled at the possibilities. Wouldn’t it explain a lot, she thought, if her college sculpture professor had actually been some sort of were-bear? It would certainly provide good reasons for his bushy beard and terrible temper during the winters. And how much sense would it make to learn that the girl she had hated from the sorority next door had been an actual as well as a metaphorical bloodsucker? Somehow, all of it just seemed to make sense. It was as if she’d subconsciously suspected this all along, and someone had only needed to point out the truth for everything to fall into place.

The most surprising part, Daphanie had quickly realized, was that most of the Others she had been introduced to had been so unexpectedly … normal. Except for his extraordinary good looks, Mac could have been any other man on the street, and Reggie might look a little paler than she remembered, but Daphanie hadn’t detected even the slightest glimpse of fang. Really, it had all been almost disappointing. She had expected to look around her and feel like a veil had suddenly been lifted and now she could see the world for what it really was, but it turned out that the unveiled world looked pretty much exactly like the veiled one had.

At least, until now. This little guy was an entirely new experience.

Daphanie refocused on the little red creature before her and grinned. “I don’t think we met before, but I’m Daphanie Carter. I’m Danice’s sister. Are you a friend of Niecie’s or Mac’s?”

He took her hand warily and shook quickly. His skin felt warm and rough but not really any different from human skin. “I, uh, I know both of ’em,” he ventured. “Name’s Quigley.”

“Quigley,” Danice repeated, deciding it suited him somehow. “It’s very nice to meet you, but I do have to ask what you’re doing lurking under the tables instead of sitting at one.”

“Um, I like to keep a low profile. You know, not stir things up too much. Get everyone all excited.”

Watching the way his glowing-coal eyes darted from side to side as he said that gave Daphanie the tiniest clue that his answer might not encompass his entire reason for attending the reception in hiding.

“So you crashed, huh? If you know both of the happy couple, why didn’t you get an invitation like everyone else?”

“That’s what I’d like to know!” Quigley’s chin jutted out at a belligerent angle. “Alls I can say is, it’s a fine way to thank a dude after he puts his own hide in trouble to save yer life. Some people just got no idea of gratitude, I can tell ya.”

Daphanie blinked. “You saved a life? Whose life? Mac’s, or Niecie’s?”

“Either/or. It was a tense situation.”

“What situation? Danice didn’t tell me anything about her life recently being in danger. Why was my baby sister’s life in danger?”

Quigley must have noticed a suspiciously militant gleam in Daphanie’s eye, because he quickly shifted his feet and darted his glance to the side. Daphanie couldn’t help it, though. She’d been protecting and taking care of her little sister since the day their parents had brought Niecie home from the hospital. Old habits, and all that.

“It wasn’t that bad,” the little creature hurried to assure her, twisting one end of his mustache around his chubby finger. “I mean, it all worked out, right? No harm, no foul. Hazard of doing business and all that.” He laughed nervously.

“But why was Niecie in a dangerous situation to begi—”

“So, did ya come in from out of town or something?” Quigley cut her off with an enthusiastically jovial tone. He rocked forward on his hooves and pasted a toothy smile on his face. Somehow, the fact that his teeth were more pointed and fangy than normal human teeth didn’t diminish the effect in the least. “I can’t recall Danice mentioning she had a sister here in the city.”

Daphanie’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t. I’ve been away for years now. I just came back this week. Does the situation you saved my sister from have anything to do with the reason why you’re lurking under dinner tables instead of mingling with the rest of the wedding guests?”

“Ah, that explains it. Yup, I figured if Danice had a sister in New York, she’da mentioned it by now. I was just sayin’ to myself, ‘Quigley, if this is Danice’s sister, I bet she musta been living someplace pretty far away up until now or you’da heard about her before this.’ Yessir.”

The creature’s burning, beady eyes darted this way and that, looking everywhere but at Daphanie’s face. She could almost swear she saw little drops of sweat collecting on the skin at the base of his horns. She had him backed into some kind of corner without even having seen the walls coming. She couldn’t think of any other reason for his nervous twitching. The question was, what had him so tied up in knots, and should Daphanie try to squeeze him for information, or take pity on the poor thing?

“I’m going to take that as a yes.” She considered him along with her options. Clearly, whatever danger Niecie had been involved in had resolved itself by now, but it bothered Daphanie that her sister hadn’t told her about it. And it bothered her even more that this Quigley creature knew more about her sister’s recent past than she did.

“Take what as a yes? Was there a question? I don’t remember a question—”

“And that means that whatever situation you were in with Danice, it was one she didn’t want to be reminded of on her wedding day. Because I’m assuming that otherwise she would have invited you.”

Quigley’s nervous laugh made her think of hyenas and two-year-olds, simultaneously. Which was kinda creepy.

“Heh. Come to think of it, maybe she did mention she had a sister with a bit of wanderlust to her. Haven’t you been traveling for a few years now? I think I heard Danice tell Mac that her sister was some kind of gypsy, wanderin’ around the world sellin’ her art and lookin’ for inspiration to make more. That’d be you, I take it?”

“Which means that if she or Mac knew you were here, they wouldn’t like it.” She saw his eyes dart nervously around, as if he expected the linens to disappear and leave him vulnerable to exposure. She was on the right track. “Given that it’s their wedding day, they might not want to make a big scene and might just get someone from the staff to escort you out. That would cause the least amount of trouble, I’m guessing. But then again, Niecie always has had a temper. If she was really upset to see you here, she might pick you up by your ears and fling you out a window herself.”

“A real live artist! Fancy that!” Quigley’s voice had risen to an uncomfortable and unnaturally loud squeak that made Daphanie wish for ear muffs. “Who would have thought I’d be sitting here at Vircolac’s talking to Danice’s famous artist sister! Now, she didn’t call you a painter, so what was it you do? Sculpture? No, not that, but something similar, right? I think I remember it being something simi—”

Daphanie crossed her arms, her lips pursing. “Now, I don’t know Mac very well yet, but he does seem to be awfully protective of my sister. It makes me curious. I wonder what he would do if I just let him know about his little uninvited guest under table three…?”

“Hey, you know what? It’s gettin’ kinda stuffy under here, ain’t it?” The imp cut her off with grim determination and a forced tone of good cheer. His smile looked more pained than friendly, but she guessed he was at least making an effort. “Whatta ya say we blow this pop stand, eh? You’re new to the city. I could, you know, show you around. Take you to all the hot spots.”

As an attempt to change the subject, the offer lacked a certain amount of subtlety, but it made up for it in obvious desperation. Daphanie quirked an eyebrow.

“I grew up in Brooklyn. I think I can find my way around Manhattan. But thanks. Maybe I should just go ask Danice about the adventure the two of you had together. I think that might be easier all around. Have a nice night, Quigley.”

She placed her palm flat on the carpet and made as if to push to her knees and crawl out from under the table. Quigley’s hand slapped onto her wrist so fast, she thought he might have broken the land speed record.

“Wait!” Quigley’s eyes narrowed on her face and his expression shifted from fear to calculation. “You might know what streets lead where around here, but ya don’t know the city like I know the city. I’d betcha a case of root beer ya ain’t never been to any of the places I could show ya.”

The creature stabbed his chest with a stubby thumb. Daphanie considered him for a minute, raking her gaze over his outrageous and frankly unpleasant little form. “I’m not sure I’d want to go to any places you could show me, Quigley.”

“Is that right? Huh, and here I thought you monkeys always wanted to go to the places ya ain’t been invited to. The places where the real Others hang out.”

“‘Monkeys’?” Daphanie repeated the insult. It took her brain a second to catch up with the rest of his statement. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘the real Others’?”

The creature shrugged. “Just like I said. The real Others. The ones like me, not like this bunch of pretty, rich movie stars they got here.”

“I don’t recognize anyone here from the movies,” Daphanie observed dryly. “I thought Niecie said this was a private club especially for the Others. She said it had been founded and run by werewolves for something like two hundred years and had werewolves and vampires and demons and all sorts of Others as members.”

“Sure, Vircolac is for Others, if you happen to be an Other with a couple billion bucks in the bank or a family name that goes back to one of the first Others in America,” he snorted. “Sayin’ any Other can hang out here is like sayin’ anybody can live in a penthouse on Park Avenue. Theoretically, it might be true, but it ain’t gonna happen for real people.”

“Okay, so where do the ‘real’ Others hang out?”

Quigley shrugged, his gaze running over her with calculation. “We got a few places, but they ain’t what I’d call suitable for most humans. Ya sure ya wanna see ’em?”

Daphanie thought about that for a moment. Did she really want to follow something that looked like a miniature devil, a creature she’d met only ten minutes before, into parts of the city she might not know all that well? Did she want to take that chance?