‘But of course you won’t, Malik, since I am not feral, and it would go against your own code of honour. You see, there are advantages to being less than moral.’ She sliced the sword to the side in an easy motion, narrowly missing a couple of wide-eyed tourists. ‘Bite her,’ she snapped, her canines extending almost to her chin.
Vampires and their fucking games! ‘Look, just bite me and get this over with,’ I thought at Malik.
‘No—she will use it as an excuse to attack.’
‘And if you don’t bite me, she’ll use that as her other excuse,’ I snapped. ‘It’s one of those fucking win-win things for her, and I for one don’t fancy being skewered on that monster sword of hers.’
‘She is trying to provoke me, Genevieve, it is nothing ...’
I stopped listening to him as the bizarre sight of a child skipping through the foyer caught my attention. She ran up to the group of men I’d seen strolling in through the entrance, breezing through them as if they weren’t there, then turned and smiled at me. Cosette, my ghost. Then she disappeared and I was left staring at the men as they surveyed the crowd. One of them was watching us, curiosity flickering over his face. My memory caught up and meshed with something Elizabetta had said.
‘Thanks, Cosette,’ I murmured, then smiled at Elizabetta. ‘Okay, bitch, here’s your missing witnesses.’
‘Hey, Declan,’ I shouted, and stuck my arm in the air, waving madly, ‘over here, you big Irish totty. Hey, and bring your pals with you!’
Try slicing our heads off now, and see where it gets you.
‘What is she doing?’ Elizabetta’s face twisted in anger as Declan turned and made for us. Her sword snapped back into her black lace fan.
‘She is acknowledging a friend.’ Malik’s voice was calm, but in my head I heard his question.
‘Declan is the one who’s been supplying me the inside info on all Liz’s disappearing faelings. We’ve agreed a bargain between us.’
I briefly wondered if Malik was surprised that Declan, head of the Red Shamrock Blood family, would bargain to rescue faelings lured into Sucker Town by the fang-gangs. Not that I knew why Declan had; oh, I had an inkling that it was because he wasn’t strong enough to keep them for himself, so he’d decided to do the dog-in-the-manger thing—of course, Malik wouldn’t have any trouble working that one out. No, the real mystery for me was why Declan had never asked for anything much in return for the info he provided—other than the actual rescues.
‘Does he know you walk in Rosa’s skin?’ Malik asked.
‘No.’ I said.
‘Malik al-Khan, Elizabetta. I’ll be wishing a good evenin’ to you both,’ Declan grinned, flashing fangs; his brief burst of mesma made me feel like all the joys of the world had come to visit—that was his speciality. Nearby humans broke out into enthusiastic, happy laughter and his grin widened, but his eyes were sharp with interest. To either side of him were two more vampires, his brothers. They looked overwhelmingly alike, in their tight black leather jeans and collarless white linen shirts, with fine gold hoops through their earlobes, not to mention the clichéd tall, dark and handsome Irish good looks. It was no wonder the Blue Heart’s steady stream of customers had stopped to gape and stare.
Declan turned to me, blue eyes warming with male appreciation as he raked his gaze over me. ‘Ah, me darlin’, and how could I be forgettin’ you, when beauty such as yours is not often seen?’
‘Debby.’ I waggled my fingers at him. ‘Debby-with-a-y.’ I heaved a sigh, expanding my generous assets, watching as his smiling face took on a slightly glazed look. Gotta love any male that appreciates your looks enough to lose his sensible head.
‘Declan.’ Malik inclined his head so slightly that the movement was barely noticeable. ‘I see you have your brothers with you. Seamus, and Patrick.’ His chin moved down a millimetre as he acknowledged them both. ‘Is the Tir na n’Og closed tonight?’
The Tir na n’Og was Declan’s Irish bar. The brothers might not be as well known in the redtop gossip pages as the current crop of newly minted vamp celebs, but they’d been around a lot longer—three hundred years longer—and they had their own fang-fan base. A brief, curious question as to whether they were jealous of the new kids on the blood-block popped in my mind.
‘Of course it’ll not be closed.’ Declan blinked, then gave a satisfied smile. ‘Fiona, me darlin’ companion, is watchin’ over me business, just as she should be. The three of us’ll be here for your shenanigans with Rosa.’ His smile turned cheerful. ‘And I’ll be hopin’ they’ll be entertaining.’
Elizabetta snapped open her fan. ‘The arrangement was not for you to be here in person, Declan, just for you to provide a witness of your blood.’
‘But of course I’m needin’ to be here on such a momentous occasion, Eliza.’ He turned his smile on her. ‘Now that the Earl is gone, I’ll not be trustin’ any other’s decision on any concerns but me own—especially when it comes to dealing with Rosa, the nasty wee bitch.’
Surprise winged into me. Declan didn’t like Rosa either? It was beginning to look like nobody did. Was this why Malik hadn’t wanted me to change earlier? Still, more important, our ‘witnesses’ were standing there grinning, so ... time to make our exit.
‘Well, all this gum-flapping is fun, but to be honest, it’s just holding us up.’ I hugged Malik’s arm and gave him an inane, adoring look. ‘Malik here has promised to take me somewhere special after the business bit of the night is done with. So we’ll just toddle off and catch you all later.’ I waggled my fingers at them all. ‘C’mon, lover boy, let’s go.’ ‘Now!’ I shouted inside his head, and pulled at his arm. ‘This way,’ I muttered, heading for the front doors. ‘I don’t know what you ever did to upset her, but it doesn’t seem like a good idea to stick around—’
The world around me went hazy, stuttering horizontally as if bands of interference were scrolling up and down in front of my eyes. The background hum of excited chatter cut out. And I realised Malik was taking us both into his shadows, hiding us from sight and smell and hearing, if not from touch, so we could make our escape. Relief sung through me, then as the nothingness that surrounded us crept into my mind, I stumbled and started falling, Malik’s hand my only anchor ... ... and I blinked as my own startled blonde reflection stared back at me from a foxed silver mirror.
Chapter Eighteen
We were in a lift; the foxed mirrored panels lining the sides gleamed with polish. I recognised the lift—I’d spent an uncomfortable twenty minutes in one just like it with the Earl when he’d still been London’s head honcho vamp and not the scattered ashes and star of my morphine-induced nightmares that he was now. That lift allowed VIP patrons to bypass the crowds to get to the private bar above the Blue Heart’s foyer, so it looked like we were still in the Blue Heart, although I wasn’t sure where. I checked the control panel and the small key in the lock and the dimmed lighting confirmed that the lift was shut down. We weren’t going anywhere until that key was removed, and until then no one could find us. I looked from my own wide-eyed reflection to Malik’s shadowed darkness behind me, both our images reflecting into the distance.
The myth about vamps and mirrors is just that: a myth. Although I had no doubt Malik could hide his reflection as much as he could hide anything else if he wanted to. I turned to face him.
‘The idea of a distraction was so we could escape,’ I said drily.
He gave me one of his impassive stares. ‘Leaving would not help us achieve our objective.’ The last of his shadows dissipated, leaving the blue veins standing out in stark relief under his pale skin.