“Again, done. You’ll live here at the hotel for the foreseeable future. Of course, you’ll be moved into a more suitable room.”
“Suitable how? And who are you to this place?” I asked recalling not only the maitre d’s behavior but also the desk clerk’s earlier refusal to call security.
“Why, I own it of course.” He grinned wickedly, teeth flashing in the low light of the chandelier.
“Of course,” I whispered. “Do they, the staff, know…” and I tapped my teeth first, then the corner of my eye.
The waiter appeared around the corner of the curtains and I jumped, but he was only there to present the bottle of wine. I looked at Bahlin, chagrined, and he laughed out loud. “The red, as promised.”
I couldn’t help but smile back. This was obviously going to take some getting used to. I ordered without looking at the menu assuming that, in a place like this, if they didn’t have what I wanted listed, they’d come up with it. The waiter didn’t even ask Bahlin if he wanted anything other than the wine.
“To answer your question, yes, the staff knows. More than half the staff are of the same general persuasion. Supernatural, or mythological, take your pick.”
I stared at him, schooling my face into polite curiosity. Inside I was stunned and nervous as hell. “Dragons?” I clenched my hands together under the table hard enough that the bones ground together.
“A few,” he said, smiling gently, “and a number of other flavors.” He leaned forward and reached for my hands under the table, tapping them softly with his fingertips. “Relax. Nothing’s going to happen to you here.”
I unclenched my fingers and made a show of setting them on the tabletop.
“A few other flavors?” I asked in a voice barely above a whisper. He nodded. “How many is a few?”
“That’s an age old question, isn’t it?” He settled into the corner of the booth and cocked a knee up as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Not many in the mundane world realize what we are. Humans, or mundies, have a tendency to see only what they want to see and to go about blind to the rest of their world. There are a few of them who know about us, though I doubt anyone knows about all of us.” He poured us each a glass of wine, and I watched him swirl his in his glass then sniff it.
“More on that later, okay? I need to process this and figure out the details of the job.” My voice sounded hushed in the elegant atmosphere. I closed my eyes and prayed the fear was my secret, not to be shared with the…dragon. I was back to being worried, my thoughts and emotions ricocheting around at breakneck speeds.
Bahlin sipped his wine and looked at me, his eyes appearing almost black in the dim light. “Let me sum it up for you very handily, Maddy.” He set his glass down and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “There are a few things you’ll have to know, and some we’ll have to figure out together because there’s never been a female Niteclif.”
I started to get indignant at the sexist comment, but he cut me off with a wave of his hand. “There’s no reason to argue—the past is unchangeable. As for your job responsibilities and a few of the perks, your job is to investigate crimes turned over to you by the High Council. The Council is composed of representatives from five supe groups in the Isles—vampires, shapeshifters, which dragons fall under, witches and wizards, faeries and the smaller groups who lack representation in any number.” He paused to see if I’d react to the list of supernatural creatures, but I managed—just barely—to maintain my cool façade. “You will likely, on occasion, encounter unreported crimes and you’ll investigate those as well. You’ll have to live here in London during your tenure though you’ll be paid, and handsomely, to do so. You will meet the High Council tomorrow night, so we’ll have to go shopping to get you some more appropriate clothes, unless you’ve brought something besides jeans?”
I shook my head, mute with fear. Five supe groups? I hadn’t known about one. And how many were not represented in any large number? Thinking of my college mythology class I felt a little light-headed. No, you feel like passing the hell out again.
Bahlin ignored the mental charades crossing my facial features. “Not all of the