Grave Destiny (Alex Craft, #6) - Kalayna Price Page 0,4
potential client who walks through your door. The protections he’s claimed do not guarantee him your services, and he cannot compel or threaten you to work for him without violating the very same agreements that he is hiding behind. You may demand he leave at any time, and if he refuses, I will enforce your request.”
I nodded my understanding, and I think Falin assumed I’d let him immediately kick Dugan out of my office. I didn’t. I was curious about what the Shadow Prince wanted to hire me to do. Also, I hadn’t dismissed the idea that this might be the case my father wanted me to take. My father played the long game and had his hand in a lot of pots. Just because Dugan hadn’t spoken to him didn’t mean my father wasn’t aware of whatever situation had sent the prince to me.
Closing my shields, I walked into my office. Falin followed close behind.
“Are your client meetings not typically confidential?” Dugan asked, his disapproving gaze boring into Falin.
“I try to protect clients’ privacy,” I said, and turned toward Falin. I didn’t actually want him to go. While I was confident in my ability to deal with most clients who walked through my door, I wasn’t about to turn Falin away when dealing with the Prince of Shadows. I felt safer with him here. The thought must have been clear on my face.
“This is a matter of court security.” Falin crossed his arms over his chest, his posture daring the prince to challenge his words. “No law protects a private investigator’s meetings, not in the mortal realm or Faerie. The rights you invoked don’t specify a private audience either. If you want to talk to a citizen of winter, you will do so within my presence.”
Dugan glowered, his dark gaze moving from Falin to me. I gave him a halfhearted shrug, the motion conveying a nonchalant What can we do about it? But in truth I was relieved. The—no doubt ancient—agreements Dugan had invoked offered me some protection, and likely had magically binding stipulations, but I knew enough about the fae to guess there were ways around most things. Those ways might start a war between the courts, but the end result for me would still be potentially deadly, or at the very least, bad for my freedom. Caution and keeping my allies close were smarter than arguing for client confidentiality.
I rounded my desk and sat, trying not to look like I was ready to spring to my feet again at the smallest provocation. But, of course, I was. Dugan looked between me and Falin one more time before deciding his business was important enough to tolerate the Winter Knight’s presence and sinking gracefully into one of my client chairs. For his part, Falin remained standing, moving to a spot near the door and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, but at least he wasn’t looming. Dugan seemed to be making a point of ignoring him. Which was fine by me.
“So what can I do for you . . .” I trailed off, searching for the right honorific to use. Typically I called clients mister or missus, but I didn’t know Dugan’s last name. Hell, I didn’t even know if he had a last name. For all I knew he was older than the custom of having surnames. Maybe he was Dugan, son of . . . someone. I could have said Prince Dugan, but that sounded odd and stuffy, and besides, my pause had been too long now, so I tried to play it off as if I had properly ended my question and forced a smile, hoping he wouldn’t note the missing inflection.
“I’m here to secure your services.”
I waited, but that was apparently all he planned to say. I pressed my gloved hands together in my lap and tried to maintain my smile. “I assumed as much. I need more details than that.”
Dugan’s eyes slid to the side, toward Falin, but he didn’t turn. “It is a sensitive matter. Suffice to say that there is a body we need questioned.”
I nodded, letting the movement hide my relief. I’d been sure I was going to have to explain that my planeweaving services were not up for hire, but a body meant he was interested in my grave magic. “So just a ritual and time spent questioning the shade, then?” I asked as I opened the drawer beside my desk and fished for the standard ritual form