Never mind that if my having 3V became public knowledge, getting the sack from my job would be the least of my worries—I wouldn’t have the chance to feel rejected when the fae gave me their collective cold-shoulder. No, the vamps would have me auctioned off to the highest bidder faster than I could shout, ‘One sidhe blood-slave, going, going, gone.’
I tuned back in as Hugh’s lecture got to the point I’d been waiting for. ‘—and it won’t take much for the witches to withdraw their protection.’
I took a deep breath, tried for another conciliatory expression. ‘Stella knows all about Alan Hinkley and who his son is. She agreed he should speak to me.’ Okay, so she hadn’t actually expected me to take the job, and she hadn’t actually answered any of my texts yet—neither of which I was going to tell Hugh, but hey, sometimes you have to go with what you’ve got—and so I added the clincher, ‘I think they’ve got some sort of thing going on between them ...’ I trailed off at his expected horrified expression.
‘What sort of thing?’ he demanded.
‘I’m not entirely sure.’
‘It doesn’t matter!’ he jabbed his finger at me. ‘She might be willing to risk her own position, but she’s one witch among many. You’ve got more to lose than she has.’
‘Fine.’ I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. Damn. Why was he so angry? I placed my cup carefully on the coaster and swallowed back my frustration. ‘Hugh, all I’ve been asked to do is look at a dead body and check it out for magic. It will take five minutes, tops. I really can’t see how the witches can possibly object to that.’
‘Are you sure that’s all?’
‘Yes, of course! ‘Hugh, I know you’re worried.’ I leaned forward, put my hands over his. His skin felt hot and gritty. ‘But I can take care of myself now, and this is just a job.’
He withdrew his hands. ‘You can tell me if there’s anything else, you know. I’d understand.’
Puzzled, I frowned at him. ‘What else could there be?’
His brow ridges lowered as he slid a sheet of paper from the file and pushed it towards me.
I looked down, blinked when I read it. It was an official form of some sort, something to do with a blood visit. I skimmed it, seeing Roberto October handwritten next to the section marked vampire.
My eyes shot up to Hugh’s. ‘What the fuck is this?’
‘Part of the updated vampires’ legal rights. They now have the right to live blood.’ He glared at me. ‘Obviously they have to provide their own willing donors, so we insist on a waiver of responsibility.’
‘I get that, Hugh, but what I want to know is why my name’s on it.’
‘Why don’t you tell me, Genny?’ He slapped his hand on the desk. ‘Explain to me why a vampire arrested for murder has put you down as his first choice on his nightly menu card?’
Before I could even think of an answer, the door swung open and the curly-haired constable came into the room. She smiled at Hugh, looked at me like I was a toad, and headed towards us.
Hugh smiled back at her, the anger clearing from his face like the sun banishing the shadows.
Shit. Why would a vampire I’d never met think I was going to put out for a free meal? There had to be some mistake. Gritting my teeth, I read down the page again, checking out the various clauses.
‘Shall I take Ms Taylor down to the cells, Sergeant?’ Constable Curly-hair stopped by the desk and leant her ample hip against it, very obviously giving me the cold shoulder.
‘What?’ His distracted tone made me look up.
As she patted her hair I caught a flash of pink at the cuff of her uniform. ‘Has she signed the form, Sir? The sucker’s getting a bit restless.’ She threw me a scornful glance. ‘Think he might be hungry.’
I narrowed my eyes. Was this why she was so down on me?
Hugh slowly turned back to me. ‘Give us a couple of minutes, please, Constable.’
‘Sure thing, Sarge,’ she said, patting his bare arm as she walked past him. ‘I’ll get some water. You just shout when you’re ready.’
Hugh twisted round to watch her go.
An idea slid into my mind and I bent my head again, skimming down the form until I found the clause I was looking for. Damn. Ignoring the anxious leap in my pulse, I read it again. So that’s what this was all about.
I leaned forward, tapped Hugh’s hand. ‘Something going on between you two?’ I nodded at Constable Curly-hair, busying herself at the water dispenser.
He shifted his attention back to me.
‘You can’t keep your eyes off her.’
‘Can’t I?’ Bewilderment fractured his face. ‘But Janet’s human—a nice human,’ he added quickly, ‘and I’m a troll.’
I shrugged. ‘So? It’s not like it doesn’t happen.’
Another large puff of dust glinted above his head ridge. ‘Human females are very nice, but they’re—’ Hugh’s skin flushed an even darker red than normal. ‘They’re too slim for me,’ he finished diplomatically.
‘Shit, Hugh.’ I snorted, throwing an unbelieving glance at the overweight constable. ‘If you think she’s slim, what do you think I am?’
‘Oh, you’re just skin and bones, Genny,’ he blurted out. ‘Not as bad as you used to be, maybe, but you still look like a good gust would blow you away.’
And there was I thinking I’d actually filled out, that my curvy bits had finally got enough curves on them to justify the description.
Hugh’s face screwed up in dismay. ‘I’m sure you look very pretty to another fae, Genny—or even a human.’ He was getting flustered. ‘Look, I can’t let you see the victim, not with this injunction, but let me ask the DI if you can at least see the initial report.’ He pushed himself up out of his chair and hurried out of the office.
Suppressing the twinge of guilt because I’d deliberately embarrassed him, I picked up one of Hugh’s overlarge pens. Pulling the Waiver of Responsibility towards me, I did my own few seconds of wavering, then signed on the dotted line. Taking a deep breath, I picked up the piece of paper and flapped it at Constable Curly-hair.
She ambled over, a sneer playing round her mouth. Plucking the Waiver form from my hand, she looked down at me. ‘What made Hugh dash off like that?’
I looked innocent.
‘Never mind, it doesn’t matter.’ She slipped the form into the folder with a satisfied air. ‘Suckers are kept in the basement. You’d better follow me.’
‘No problem.’
Time to go have dinner with a vampire.
Chapter Seven
The cell had a dead, airless feel to it, a wrongness that made my chest ache. The white-painted walls and floor should have felt cold, but the temperature in the small box-like room made London’s current heat-wave feel like a cool winter’s day. Coughing at the faint scent of blood that caught the back of my throat, I looked, but there was no magic, not even the flashing pink spell I’d expected to see at the constable’s wrist.
The heat was making sweat prickle down my spine ... of course, the fact that it was going to be just me and a murderous vampire, alone together, might be another reason why I was less than cool and collected. The Waiver form had specified total privacy for a blood visit and not even the lawyers were given that. I was gambling that Mr October wasn’t just angling for a quick bite, but wanted to tell me his secrets, in secret.
‘The heat’s keeping the sucker docile.’ Constable Curly-hair gave her truncheon a swing. ‘Can’t have him getting all agitated now, can we?’