fey wouldn't be so superstitious, especially about other fey, but they often are. My father said it came from knowing almost nothing about any other fey culture but the one we were born into. Ignorance breeds fear.
There'd been so much magic inside Maeve's walls that almost from the moment we'd driven through the gates I'd begun to not "hear" it. It was a skill you learned if you spent too much time in and around major-brouhaha magic. You had to deaden its touch, or you spent all your time sensing the constant magic around you, and it deadened you to newer spells, more immediate dangers. It was like being bombarded by a hundred radio stations at once. If you tried to listen to all of them, you heard nothing.
I looked into Maeve Reed's smiling, unreadable face and shook my head. I turned to look at Doyle. I tried to ask with my eyes and face how rude and how human I was allowed to be today.
He seemed to understand, because he gave a tiny nod. I took it to mean I could be as rude and human as I wanted. I hoped that was what it meant, because I was just about to pay several mortal insults to the golden goddess of Hollywood.
Chapter 10
I walked around the couch to greet the goddess. Kitto followed me, and I had to make him stay-by the couch. Left to his own devices, he'd have stayed glued to my side like an overly devoted puppy.
I smiled toward Maeve and Julian. " I can't tell you what an honor it is to meet you, Ms. Reed." I held out my hand, and she took one hand off of Julian's arm long enough to shake.
She gave me just the tips of her fingers; it wasn't so much a handshake as a touch. I'd seen a lot of women who didn't know how to shake hands, but Maeve hadn't even really tried. Maybe I was supposed to take her hand and kneel, but if she was waiting for genuflecting, she was in for a long wait. I had one queen and one queen only. Maeve Reed may have been a queen of Hollywood, but that just wasn't the same thing.
I knew my face looked puzzled, but I couldn't decide what was going on behind that lovely face of hers. We needed to know.
"You really did hire Kane and Hart to protect you from us, didn't you?"
Maeve turned a perfect look on me, pleasant, bemused, incredulous: eyes wide, beautifully lipsticked mouth open in a small o. It was a look for a camera, for a screen that would make her face twenty feet tall. It was a face to win over audiences and the heads of studios.
It was a great face, but it wasn't that great. "A simple yes or no will suffice, Ms. Reed."
"I'm sorry," she said, voice apologetic, face soft, eyes a little confused. Her grip on Julian's arm was too tight; it gave a lie to that casual confused act.
"Did you hire Kane and Hart to protect you from us?"
She gave the laugh that People magazine had once called the five-million-dollar laugh, the one where her eyes crinkled and her face shone and her mouth was just a little open. "What a strange idea. I assure you, Ms. Gentry, I am not afraid of you."
She'd avoided a direct answer. She wasn't afraid of me; that much had to be true, because it is taboo among us to truly lie. If Doyle hadn't suggested in the van that I be rude, I'd have let it go, because pursuing it relentlessly would have been more than rude; it would have been insulting, and duels had started over less. But only among highborn sidhe could one be expected to know the rules. We were counting on Maeve assuming I'd been raised by savages -- Unseelies and humans.
"Are you afraid of my guards, then?" I asked.
The laughter was still making her face shine, her eyes sparkle as she looked at me. "Whatever gave you such an absurd idea?"
"You did."
She shook her head, sending that long yellow sheet of hair sliding around her body. The glow of the laughter still shone in her face, and her eyes were just a little more blue. I realized suddenly that it wasn't the glow of laughter, which should have faded, but a very subtle type of glamour. She was purposefully making herself glow, just a little. And if she was glowing, she was