Vowed (6 page)

‘What did he want to know?’

‘How often you come here. If you come here alone. Stuff like that.’ Philippe’s most recently from the Bronx and sounds like a TV gangster on a good day but tonight he just
sounds dangerous and protective. ‘You want me to get Rorke?’

‘No, it’s fine. I can handle him.’

‘He’s older and bigger than you,’ Philippe says, sounding genuinely concerned.

‘The bigger they are, the harder they fall,’ I intone, quoting Jamie. I pick up my bottle of water. ‘Thanks for this. What time is it?’

He checks his watch. ‘Just gone eleven.’ Then his eyes go wide. ‘You’re seeing
her
, aren’t you?’

‘Yep.’

He swears something and it doesn’t sound American at all, rather it sounds Greek. ‘Do you want anything stronger?’ he asks me. ‘On the house.’

‘No. Tonight I’m not drinking. I need all my wits about me.’ I say the last bit with some dryness and he laughs because he knows I never drink alcohol.

‘Fine then, but just say the word.’

I drift back through the crowd and find my dancing partners. A few guys have joined in but as usual they have no clue how to move and do their best to hit on the girls as they throw themselves
around. The girls soon enough close their circle and we’re once more a small clique on the floor, bouncing to the music.

The DJ blends one dance track seamlessly into the next and I’m pretty sure he’s a magician because I’ve not felt this enthusiastic on a dance floor in ages. I
move to the rhythm of the beat and relish the feel of the bass line as it trembles through me, firing my blood and increasing my heartbeat. Some of the tracks I recognize, others are completely new
to me. The friends I’m with move around me, but none of them leaves for very long.

We’re a small tribe within the greater horde of bodies and it feels good to be part of something yet completely anonymous. I finish my second water and head back to Philippe to get another
one. He passes it to me amid serving other customers and I head back without even thinking of taking a break.

I join the circle again and see that the Spook’s on the dance floor. The girls seem taken with him, flashing him appreciative smiles and welcoming nods. He returns the smiles but, unlike
every other guy who tried to break into the circle, he doesn’t attempt to pair up with a girl of his choice. Instead he stays with the group and dances with us. And, annoyingly, his moves
aren’t bad. He’s light on his feet and he knows how to laugh at himself when he fumbles the rhythm.

He catches me watching him a few times and winks at me. I flush and look away but refuse to move off the floor. Not until my time’s up and I have to go and talk to Suola.

Even this far onto the floor we sense the disruption at the entrance. I look over, thankful for my height, and spot a group of people just coming in. It’s a large group and the way the
crowd shifts from them tells me that whoever they are, they’re a big deal.

It has to be Suola and she’s early and drawing attention. The supernatural creatures present seem frozen in place, shock and awe registering on many faces. Those who bow to the Queen of
the Unseelie Court drop into curtsies and do that weird thing that freaks me out: they bare their necks to her. Girls with long hair scoop their hair away from their necks and incline their heads,
men tug at their collars. They are utterly submissive in her presence.

She’s past, swept by her retainers up the restricted-access stairs and into the private meeting rooms beyond on the mezzanine floor. If she’s seen anyone she recognizes, none was
acknowledged, but I suspect she knows exactly who was present and how fast each one was to bow.

None of the humans present seems to have noticed anything amiss and I turn back towards the dance floor. The Spook – what was his name? Dante? – for the first time looks a little
nonplussed, but when he catches my eye he gives me a small tight smile.

Was Aiden right? Is his presence here something to do with Suola wanting to see me? What is the mysterious meeting he is attending this late at night? Suola, as far as our files tell us, never
deals with humans, not directly, at least.

At ten to midnight I edge my way off the dance floor and as I do so I’m aware of Dante following me. I ignore him and go to the ladies’ once more. I press some tissues to my face,
getting rid of most of my perspiration. My mascara and eye shadow haven’t run too badly and I repair both as much as I can. From my back pocket I slip out my compact and also slick some lippy
across my mouth.

As suspected, Dante’s waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He smiles when he sees me.

‘Hi, again,’ he says brightly, projecting so he can be heard over the music.

I scowl at him. ‘You don’t listen, do you? I told you to leave me alone.’

He shrugs. ‘And I keep telling you we’ll be seeing one another again and you just ignore me.’ He gestures to the stairs. ‘Shall we?’

The security standing at the gate doesn’t look like much. There are two of them and they look like twins. A boy and a girl, maybe in their early twenties. Whipcord slender, both of them
seem to vibrate with leashed energy. They are definitely not human and whatever they are is highly strung. I keep my hands in sight at all times because I don’t like the idea of taking them
on. They are all sharp edges and fast movements.

‘I’m Kit Blackhart,’ I tell them. Dante introduces himself and they nod, clearly having been told that we would be coming, and unhook the rope for us. As I pass them a light
frisson of magic brushes the nape of my neck. The spell would be an alarm, alerting the guards if anyone tries to pass by pretending to be someone they’re not.

I sweep past Dante and jog up the stairs. The mezzanine floor is where Miron has his VIPs. There are a few booths occupied and I see the flash of money changing hands as we walk past. I keep my
eyes facing forward, because up here plausible deniability is a way of life. Dante is less successful when it comes to not seeing.

‘Is that really . . . ?’

‘An angel drinking infernal blood? That’s what it looks like to me.’

He pales under his natural tan and stretches his legs to keep pace with me. We come to a halt before an anonymous black door flanked by two Unseelie Fae. It takes me a second or two to decide
that they are both female. Their beauty is perfectly androgynous and they are similarly dressed in form-fitting black cat-suits, complete with little ears. I have the feeling that the restless
tails they each sport do not come with the suits but are part of them.

‘Names?’ Catwoman on the right asks us.

We dutifully answer her. The one on the left swings the door open for us and stands aside to let us enter.

The room’s large and comfortably appointed and looks like someone’s party room. There are large plush couches, a TV on the wall and a sound system in case you wanted your own music
rather than the tunes being spun downstairs.

I notice the man first, mostly because I’ve heard so much about him and anticipated seeing him in Suola’s presence.

Suola’s Beast is of average height and maybe a bit on the slender side. He’s dressed in a dinner suit, the edges of his tie loose, the collar open. He looks for all the world like a
slightly bored businessman pouring himself a drink after a hard day negotiating mergers in an office somewhere. The scariest thing about the Unseelie Queen’s torturer is how utterly mundane
he looks, how middle aged and depressingly normal.

Next my gaze finds Suola herself. Tonight she’s dressed in black, of course. It’s a stunning cocktail dress and she’s paired it with antique jet beads that shimmer when she
moves. She’s talking to a young woman and, even though she’s on the far side of the room, it’s difficult to not stare at her.

She is one of the most devastatingly beautiful people I have ever seen. Her skin shines in the dim light of the room. Her hair is perfectly coiffed into an elaborate updo and I’m pretty
sure that the wrap that keeps it in place is in fact a live snake.

When she looks over at us, I drown in the emerald green of her eyes. I feel myself smiling at her in a stupid way and I sway towards her, like a moth to a flame. Next to me Dante seems equally
affected and we move in unison towards her.

‘Are they not lovely?’ Her voice is modulated and vibrant, holding amusement. She’s talking to the young woman by her side. ‘Just look at them. So earnest.’

‘Your majesty,’ I say, doing a curtsy Uncle Andrew would be proud of, even if it is spoiled by the fact that I’m wearing skinny jeans and biker boots.

Dante does a small formal bow from the waist and smiles at her. He looks utterly smitten, the fool.

The young woman with the queen moves towards us and gestures to the comfortable sofas.

‘Feel free to sit down. Can I get you anything to drink? Or eat, perhaps?’

I shake my head and move to stand by one of the couches. ‘No, thank you, I’m fine.’ I stay standing, watching Suola carefully. Etiquette demands that we stay standing until she
decides to sit. She notices my hesitation and inclines her head before carefully sitting down in one of the single armchairs.

‘A glass of water, please,’ Dante says, smiling at the woman before sitting down next to me.

It immediately annoys me because there are other couches he could have chosen. He’s not very near but close enough to be in my way if something happens. I shoot him a venomous glance
before settling back.

‘I must thank you both for coming here,’ Suola says, smiling at us benignly, her gaze flickering between us both. ‘You’ve worked for me in the past, individually, through
your organizations. I’ve decided that the next matter would benefit from both your expertise, but I want you to be the ones to choose to accept the task.’

The young woman passes Dante his glass of water and he places it on the table next to him, but doesn’t take a sip. Clever boy. Another rule: if the noble in the room isn’t eating or
drinking, you don’t either. A part of me is impressed with him knowing the correct etiquette. But another part of me wonders about Dante having worked for Suola in the past, or rather, having
the HMDSDI investigate things on her behalf. We had been under the impression that she never deals with human authorities. I tuck the titbit away to mention to Uncle Andrew later.

‘I’ve taken the liberty of preparing files for you with all the information you may need. The crux of the matter is this: someone is stealing children in South London and it’s
affecting the goodwill in the area. I have businesses that are reporting a downturn and the – how do I put this delicately – the
energy
is damaging to those of my people who
frequent the area. I want you to find out who is responsible for taking these children, find out if they are alive, and if they are, restore them to their families. If they are not, I want you to
hunt down these child thieves and send them to my Beast for . . .’ She smiles and her teeth seem very sharp and white against the vibrant red of her lips. ‘For interrogation.’

Not too unusual so far, as jobs went. I take the file the Fae holds out to me before she moves on to pass one to Dante. We flick the files open at the same time. There are photos, police reports
and newspaper articles clipped into the file. The files aren’t very thick and I feel sad that the disappearance of a handful of children isn’t bigger news.

‘Have your people heard anything about the disappearances?’ I ask her. ‘Are there rumours about the thief being human or paranormal? Anything concrete?’

‘They have asked around and they have a name.’ This comes from the Beast. He moves from behind the small bar and walks towards us. The polished black cane that supports his weight
surprises me. ‘The children in the area have taken to calling him the Ragged Man.’ He moves and takes a seat opposite us, stretching one leg out in front of him. He sees my gaze
directed to it and smiles wryly. ‘Old age. Not as sprightly as I once was.’

I smile back, close-lipped, and look back at Suola. She’s watching her Beast with a look of great consideration and for a second it looks as if she pities him, but then her gaze turns back
to us.

‘Do you have any further questions?’

‘Why have you asked to see us personally?’ Dante asks. ‘It’s flattering, your majesty, but we are both very young. Inexperienced.’

Hey
, I want to shout at him,
speak for yourself. I may be young but my experience is pretty impressive.
Instead I find my scowl deepening when I look at him. Suola sees this
and gives a low laugh.

‘I think you’ve just offended your partner, Mr Alexander. It’s a valid question, although an impertinent one, assuming that I don’t know what I’m doing.’ She
trails off meaningfully and takes obvious delight in the blush creeping up his neck. ‘I am joking. I decided to come to you directly because of the age of the children involved. The community
is distrustful of government officials. It is easier to have two young people, such as yourselves, investigating the disappearances, asking questions. You are more likely to get answers.’ She
stands up and we both immediately follow suit, like puppets on a string. ‘Also, I wanted to meet you in person. I have heard glowing reports from your superiors and thought it was time to see
who you were. And I am not remotely disappointed.’

The smile she directs at us makes me dizzy. I beam back at her and feel so happy just being around her, that I consider asking her for a permanent position, but I’m interrupted by the
Beast moving, attempting to stand up, but dropping back onto the couch with a groan. I step forward, bracing my arm, and help him stand. He leans against me and I feel the solidity of his mass
beneath his beautifully cut jacket.

‘Thank you, my dear. You do an old man a service.’

Up close I realize he is older than I thought but no less attractive for it, for an older man, that is. His eyes, a rich hazel, twinkle down at me and I smile back.

‘Always happy to help the elderly and infirm,’ I joke and he laughs, pulling away from me so he can straighten himself to his full height.

‘You flatter us, your majesty.’ Dante’s moved towards the door, assuming the interview is over. He has his file in his hand and I grab mine where I dropped it on the couch.
‘Thank you for the opportunity. Do we have the chance to discuss the case with one another?’