‘Thanks,’ I said, and we waited until the wardrobe door clunked, then Tavish set a Privacy spell. Lust sputtered, then, to my relief, snuffed out, and I reminded myself to check my emails for Ana’s Poultice spell so I could keep the leaking Fertility pendant’s side-effect in check. Though hopefully I wasn’t going to need it, not if there were to be more nights like tonight with Malik . . . Of course, first we needed to sort out a few more ground rules; like when things started looking iffy, talking was the way to go, not packing me off home like some delicate damsel who needed protection.
‘So, you’ve been sharing blood and power with the vampire, doll,’ Tavish said, breaking into my thoughts. ‘And now the pair of you can use each other’s magics.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘Yeah.’ I gave him a considering look. ‘Malik wants it kept quiet. Says it’s dangerous and I agree with him.’
Tavish snorted. ‘Well, you’re nae wrong, doll. But I ken we decided ’twas best you stayed away from him and the rest, till we know what’s what with this Emperor.’
Yeah, well I decided it wasn’t best, Mr Grumpy. And as I wasn’t about to debate it with him, I hit him with my next attack. ‘Oh, and thanks for telling me there was silver in that werewolf repellent.’
His gills snapped shut in embarrassment. ‘Aye, well, you were nae meant to use more than a wee drop. ’Twould nae have harmed you then.’
As I’d thought. Still, he should’ve told me. I shot him another scowl to show I hadn’t quite forgiven him yet, then filled him in on the Tower card and my visit to see the Bangladeshi ambassador; the werewolves having something to do with the kidnap victims; the Emperor wanting Janan, the Bonder of Souls; and that given my quick trip home it didn’t look like Malik was going to help me get to the Emperor, since it looked like there was a throwdown in the offing between the Emperor and the Autarch. I finished with, ‘So apart from the long-term problems that a vamp takeover bid could cause all of us, we’re no closer to finding the Emperor or what he wants in return for the info about releasing the fae’s fertility from the pendant.’
‘Hmph. I’ll be chatting again to the vampire, doll, and see what this vampire takeover business ’tis about. ’Tis maybe naught but a storm in a teacup, but so long as they keep to their agreements’– the beads on his dreads flashed a warning red – ‘it doesnae matter who’s in charge. So dinna fash yourself about the blood-suckers.’
I stared at him. I was going to worry about the blood-suckers. Malik, and a few others who were my friends. And I did think it mattered who was in charge. But Tavish and I obviously lived in different worlds, and I wasn’t going to waste my breath arguing with him about it. I already knew he and Malik were allies, not friends, only drawn together by what the other could offer . . .
Damn it, that was it. Malik wanted Tavish’s help in killing Bastien – an idea I was fully behind. Only I’d always had in the back of my mind that with Bastien gone, Malik would be the new Head Fang, not some evil interloper like the Emperor. And Tavish wanted me protected until the fae’s fertility problem was solved . . . which was why Malik had sent me home. Into Tavish’s waiting arms.
Crap. The annoying pair had double-teamed me again, first with Tavish’s text, which I didn’t get to see, and then with their little chat while I was out of it. Maybe I should just save time and trouble for all of us, and buy the bubble wrap myself.
‘So that’s it?’ I glowered at Tavish. ‘You’re going to talk to Malik and I just have to wait for the next card to turn up?’
‘Och, doll, ’tis the best thing.’ He patted my hand. ‘Safer too, what with the Emperor’s werewolves running about. And ’twill all sort itself out once the last two cards turn up and the reading’s complete; the spirit in the cards hasnae failed me yet.’
Yeah, but there’s always a first time. I gritted my teeth. ‘What about the Emperor’s website? Have you hacked it yet?’
His dreads twisted with frustration. ‘’Twill nae be long now, doll, but I do have a wee thing of interest to show you.’ An electronic tablet appeared with a small audible pop to hover in front of us. Tavish plucked it out of the air, tapped the screen and handed it to me.
It showed the home page for a plant nursery:
Bodmin Moor Plant and Herb Nursery ~ Specialists in mediaeval and modern herbs, herbaceous perennials and rare bulbs ~ Growing since 1775.
I cut Tavish a bemused look. ‘Um, why am I looking at this?’
Tavish reached over and tapped ‘News’.
A picture of Katie’s ‘boyfriend’, Marc, filled the screen. He was standing next to a slightly older man, both of them smiling for the camera, holding up three cards with gold coins stuck in the middle of them. The caption read:
Nurseryman Carlson Fowey and his nephew Marc Fowey with the three prestigious Royal Horticultural Society gold medals awarded at this year’s Chelsea Flower Show; the first year Marc has taken full responsibility for the nursery’s exhibits at the show.
I wasn’t enlightened. I frowned at Tavish. ‘You going to fill me in?’
‘You told me that the lad, Marc, here, was spying on you at the gnome’s,’ he said. ‘This is why. He was there to do business. Apparently, one of the gnome’s cats was sitting on the windowsill and the lad went to speak to it, glanced through the window and saw you, got a mite curious and then a wee bit embarrassed when you caught him watching. So he rushed off instead of keeping his appointment with the gnome.’
Hm. ‘And you believe him?’
‘Aye, doll, his tale is true enough. The nursery does business with many of the gnomes, nae just Gnome Lampy.’
I pursed my lips at the smiling Marc and his medals, reluctantly remembering that Katie had mentioned he worked with plants. I couldn’t deny his story was plausible, given that whole ‘the simplest explanation is usually the one’, only unease still niggled at me. Marc and his uncle were doing business with the gnome, who was in no way a nice guy. Though, really, the gnome was pretty much stereotypical, albeit a tad more obnoxious than most. So my unease was probably just my ‘Katie paranoia’ kicking in.
I turned to Tavish. ‘So, there’s nothing to worry about?’
‘Aye, but to be sure, I’ve asked a body I ken, who stays down that way, to check out this nursery.’
‘Okay, thanks,’ I said grudgingly, relieved and glad at least that he’d helped in this— until his next words.
‘Och, and I told Katie’s mother all about it. I ken you wouldnae want her worrying.’
I stiffened. ‘Tell me you told Katie too? Before you told her mum?’
His ‘why would I do that?’ expression said it all. He hadn’t. Perfect.
Tavish gave me a sharp-toothed smile that told me he’d dropped me in it with Katie deliberately – a joke, payback for some slight, or just him being ornery – then he said he’d let me know as soon as he had any news, and left.
As soon as he’d gone I grabbed my phones from the landing outside . . . and discovered about twenty texts from Katie, starting with the expected snippy one which informed me Marc had already told her about the ‘gnome mix-up’, before Tavish had done his ‘Sam Spade’ thing, which he wouldn’t have had to do if he’d just spoken to her first. Oh, and some friend I was, getting Tavish to do my dirty business, and blab to her mum, instead of trusting her to know that she’d have told her mum anyway.
Damn. I was going to have to do some serious grovelling. Still her aggrieved tone let up a bit with the rest of the texts, all updates about Spellcrackers –things were all ‘running like clockwork’, which was good news, despite making me feel oddly redundant. The childish part of me wanted Spellcrackers to fall to pieces without me, to show no one else could run it as well. Mentally I slapped myself, saying I should be grateful that everyone was super-efficient at their jobs.