‘Witches always have daughters if the dad is sidhe, don’t they?’ I asked, interrupting his not-so-lyrical waxing about Helen.
‘What?’
I risked a quick look at him. He was frowning at me like I’d suddenly started spouting pixie.
‘That’s how you get more witches,’ I said, answering his question literally. ‘If the dad is human and the kid is a boy, then they’re a wizard: if it’s a girl, they’re a witch’s daughter. And if the dad is lesser fae, then they always have a boy: a faeling …’ I trailed off as his frown deepened into understanding.
‘Helen’s son isn’t mine, Gen,’ he said, a muscle jumping in his jaw and an odd, indecipherable look crossing his face. ‘His father was a human she met before I knew her. If you wanted to know if I had a child, all you had to do was ask.’
I frowned. I should’ve done … only for some reason, I’d never thought about it. But then, curiosity about Helen’s son, along with a lot of other things I should’ve been finding out about, had been pushed out of my mind by the Valium effects of the Sleeping Beauty spell Tavish had sicced on me.
‘You’re right. I should’ve asked, and I’m sorry I didn’t.’ I gave him a rueful smile, and considered whether I should say I was sorry about Helen having a bad time, but I couldn’t; it would be a lie. But I felt I should make an effort … ‘Well, at least that explains why she’s such a—’ I stopped myself from saying bitch, and substituted a more politic, ‘Why she’s such an unhappy person all the time. And why she blings herself up like a Christmas tree with all those spells; she must have lost a lot of her magic when she gave birth to a wizard.’
‘She didn’t,’ Finn said, his expression verging on impatient. ‘She got to keep it when she gave him up.’
I gaped at him. ‘Really? I didn’t know that was possible.’
‘Apparently it is.’ He held up his hands, signalling an end to the subject. ‘Look, I’ll talk to Helen again, but she’s only one problem. There’s the rest of the fae to worry about, and after what happened yesterday with the dryad, it’s going to be more difficult keeping you safe.’
I sighed. Looked like flirty Finn had disappeared overnight while I’d been in gaol, leaving serious Finn, with all his white knight tendencies, back in charge.
‘Finn, I thought we’d got past this,’ I said, keeping my voice neutral. ‘I can look after myself, I’m not helpless.’
‘’Course not, but—’ Finn grasped my hands, and green and gold magic sparked between us. He shot a surprised look at it, then appeared to accept it.
I gritted my teeth, chanting Helen, Helen, Helen in my head, trying to ignore the thought that kissing him would be so much better than talking.
‘Look, Gen, I’m sorry I went on about Helen. I know it looks like I’m thinking more of her than you, but— Hell’s thorns, there’s things we should talk about, and I know you can look after yourself, but it’s not going to be easy dealing with the dryads, or the others. I can help. Why don’t we go somewhere quiet, and talk?’
Just as I was about to say an eager, unthinking yes, a loud cough brought my attention back to Victoria Harrier, who was standing next to the limo, not trying to hide either the interested expression on her face, or the fact that she was waiting.
Oops! I’d forgotten about her. Damn magic.
Finn’s talk was going to have to wait until later. Much later, like when I’d got hold of something to stop me throwing myself at him. Silently chanting Helen, Helen, I did a quick mental calculation. ‘Talking sounds good, but let’s say my place around nine-ish?’ I nodded towards Victoria Harrier. ‘I think she has to tell me the dos and don’ts to keep me on the straight and narrow.’
He cast a look at the lawyer, then gave a soft laugh. ‘Yeah, like you’ll take any notice of her.’ His thumbs skimmed over my knuckles and another cascade of magic sparked between us, only to fall flat on Helen’s name. ‘I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t I follow you, and we can chat once she’s gone?’
I shook my head, still chanting desperately, ‘Nah, leave it till later. I want a shower’—boy, did I want a really long, really cold shower—‘and there’s other stuff I need to get out of the way first.’
‘Hey, tomorrow’s Saturday. It’s usually quiet, take the day off.’ His grin told me he was trying to make amends. ‘I’ll swing it with your boss, he’s really a nice guy.’
‘He is.’ I forced out a smile. I was getting heartily sick of chanting Helen’s name in my head. ‘But I can’t put this appointment off’—I pulled my hands from his, the lure of his magic lessened and I sighed, relieved—‘so nine, okay?’
‘Appointment?’ His grin faded. ‘Can’t you postpone it?’
‘Not really.’
‘C’mon, Gen?’
‘I have to do this today. I’m sorry, Finn.’ I gestured at Victoria Harrier standing patiently next to the idling limo. ‘And I have to go, the meter’s running, and she’s probably more expensive than a taxicab.’
‘Have to … ?’ Comprehension dawned on his face. ‘It’s the sucker, isn’t it?’ He clenched his fists in angry disgust. ‘’Course it is. And now you’re going to see him because he’s the one paying for the fancy lawyer and the fancy car—’
‘Hang on a minute! I’m the one paying for this!’
‘Not up front, you’re not, Gen.’ He shook his head angrily. ‘And to get someone like her to drop everything, you’d need to be.’
He was right, even if I was planning on footing the bill in the end (however long it took; a thought that had me wincing)—not that I was going to stand there and argue about it with him. Irate, I pushed past him. ‘Look, I’ll see you later.’
He caught my wrist and pulled me back. ‘Gen, it doesn’t matter what he’s told you. All suckers are dangerous.’
I jerked easily from his hold. Turns out anger works as well as chanting Helen’s name. ‘Right now, Finn, the suckers are the least of my worries. There’s no vamp in London who’d even say hello to me—or to any other fae or faeling—without Malik’s permission.’
‘Hell’s thorns, Gen!’ Consternation clouded his face. ‘There’s no way any vamp can guarantee that sort of blanket protection—’
‘He’s running London, so yes, he can. That’s the way vamps work. They either toe the line or their ashes feed the fishes. You know that.’
‘Feeding … Gods, I should’ve realised— That’s why you started to fade this morning—he’s been taking too much blood. Gen, I can’t let you do this; it has to stop—’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Finn,’ I stated, keeping my voice level. Of course I wasn’t feeding Malik—hell, I hadn’t even seen him until last night. But maybe I had been overdoing it on the donations. It was something to think about later, but— ‘And even if you did, it’s still none of your business.’
‘I’m your boss, Gen, so it is my business if you can’t do your job because you’re too weak.’
Damn. ‘It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?’ I tried to ignore the hurt, furious that I hadn’t even seen it coming this time, and dug out my Spellcrackers.com ID card, grabbed his hand and slapped it on his palm. ‘I resign,’ I said. ‘As of now.’
He looked down in shock for a moment, then he held the ID card back out to me. ‘I’m sorry, Gen. I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘No, you shouldn’t.’ I glared at the ID card. I loved my job.
‘I’m worried about you, that’s all,’ he said, sounding defensive. He grabbed my hand, put the card in my shaking palm. ‘Look, take it back.’
I hesitated, wanting to curl my fingers round the thin bit of plastic … but I didn’t want my job held to ransom every time I did something he didn’t like.
‘Don’t do this, Gen,’ Finn pleaded, ‘not over some sucker. He doesn’t care about you; all he’s doing is using you.’
No, he isn’t—it was them—London’s fae, Clíona, the goddess—they were the ones using me, or wanting to anyway, with the damned fertility curse egging them on. But Finn was one of the good guys. My fingers started to curl—