see about grabbing a burger on the way. We all know the scene is degrading by the hour, so cut the crap. Tarrek, there’s no reason to goad him. I’m taking your side in this. So both of you shut the hell up and let me do my job. A fae’s life is at stake, and that’s got to be more important than either your pride or his,” I said, glancing first at Tarrek, then at Bahlin.
Both men looked at me, then each other and, finally, away.
“You shame me, Maddy,” Tarrek said on a sigh. His voice was soft and held sorrow like the brush of a butterfly’s wings—faint, soft, barely there. “Let’s be off and see what there is to see.”
“He’s right, much as it galls me to admit it. You shame us both.” Bahlin shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve got to eat, and your dinner won’t be nearly enough for me to refuel. And it’s too near dawn for me to get to the sithen via the air without risking being seen. I’ll have to get some food and then grab a ride out there. I’m remiss to let you go without me, but I’ve no choice, sweetheart.” Bahlin’s voice was full of both mockery and misery. He stepped close to me and ran a hand down the back of my hair to my neck and then straightened to his full height, like a marionette whose strings had been pulled, and he grinned wickedly.
“Stay with me, Maddy. I’ll take you myself within the hour.” I stared at him, and my surroundings seemed to soften. I realized I had leaned into him and I shook my head, stepping back so quickly I stumbled. His hand shot out in a move too quick to be seen, and he stopped my fall.
“Thanks for making it easier to leave, Bahlin.” Disappointment laced my voice and lay heavy between us.
He smiled a very self-deprecating smile and shrugged. “I had to try. Be off with you then. I’ll eat and meet you there as soon as I’m able.” The last was said to me while he looked at Tarrek.
“Fine. Oh, um, what did my great-granddad do to keep notes for you?” I asked, shifting from foot to foot, uncomfortable at having to ask how this was going to work. After all, I’d just given him a warped version of the “kiss my ass I’m leaving” speech, and now I had to ask how to do part of the job.
“He had a photographic memory. Notes weren’t necessary,” Bahlin said.
Naturally, I thought, and I sighed. I was worried that someone else was about to die because of my inaptitude.
“Let’s be off, Maddy,” Tarrek said. His tone was as gentle as the hand he put under my elbow.
And I let him lead me away from Bahlin despite the blossoming dread in my chest.
Tarrek and I stepped out of the hotel lobby into the early morning air, he on his cell phone speaking softly and I taking in my surroundings. It was cool, and I was grateful for the protection of his jacket. The lights from London obscured the stars, giving the sky an eerie, artificial glow. Traffic moved by us intermittently, the tires making a whooshing sound on the wet pavement. Despite the open air, I felt somehow cocooned with Tarrek, isolated from the world.
Tarrek snapped his cell phone shut, stepped up to my side and said, “The car will be here in a moment. I’ve instructed our driver to have the heat on.”
“That’s kind of you, thanks.” I looked over at him, and he appeared surreal in his black clothes with his black hair and ethereal complexion. In the short amount of time we’d been outside, small drops of the heavy mist had collected in his hair and the streetlights gave him the look of a fallen celestial being, an angel, come to walk among mankind.
“What is it?” he asked, reaching out to touch my cheek before thinking twice and dropping his hand.
“You’re absolutely stunning.” Realizing I’d answered his question with such base honesty embarrassed me, and I turned my head away. He smiled and before he could reply, a black Mercedes sedan pulled to the curb. He stepped to the rear door and opened it for me. He nodded, motioning for me to get in. I slid into the car. The black leather was buttery soft, and the car still held that new car smell. The privacy tint on