ordered two when we sat down. I guess he didn't want to risk waiting the extra few minutes it would take to pour another. "That trick is always best with succubi. Even with a plant and a prepped costume, it never goes off quite as well. I used to have this girl who worked with me when I lived in Raleigh, and she did okay, but you could tell people knew how the whole get-up worked."
Alcohol was buzzing through me pleasantly, and I'd slowed down my consumption so as not to lose my head. Somewhere in that warm haze, Jamie's words tickled a memory. "Raleigh . . . when were you in Raleigh?"
"I moved from there a few years ago. I was there about . . . oh, I don't know." He took a sip of gin, perhaps to help his math skills. "Not that long. Twenty years. I did some good soul brokering, but really, my talents were better appreciated here, you know?"
"When you were there, did you know a vampire named Milton?" I asked. Remembering my conversation with Hugh while I was in the middle of a cheap Vegas bar was weird - but no weirder than hearing Raleigh mentioned twice this week.
"Milton?" Jamie's eyebrows rose, and some of his good humor dimmed. "Yeah, I know him. Scary son of a bitch. Looks like - "
"Nosferatu?" I suggested.
Jamie nodded solemnly. "How anyone as blatantly vampire as him got by as a covert operative is beyond me."
Phoebe frowned. "Did you say 'covert operative'?"
The waiter appeared then with Luis's drink. Luis motioned for him to stay and glanced around at the rest of us. "Refills? Another gimlet or cosmo? Jamie? You're drinking Tanqueray, right?"
Jamie looked offended. "Beefeater."
Luis rolled his eyes. "That's ridiculous and disgusting. Bring him some Tanqueray."
"No!" exclaimed Jamie. "Beefeater. I'm a purist."
"You have no discrimination," countered Luis. He looked back at the confused waiter. "Bring one of each. We'll have a taste test." The waiter looked relieved and hurried off before someone else contradicted the orders.
"It's a waste of time," said Jamie. "No offense, boss man. You'll see."
Luis was unmoved. "Beefeater's for peasants."
"Jamie," I tried, "about Milton - "
"Peasants!" I don't think Luis could've insulted Jamie more if he'd called his mother names. "Beefeater is a refined drink, for a refined palate. You know I have infinite respect for you, but clearly, despite your years of worldly experience . . . well . . ." Jamie drunkenly groped for an eloquent way to finish his speech. "You're wrong."
Luis laughed, something I couldn't help but think Jerome most definitely wouldn't have done if one of his subordinates said he was wrong. "We'll see, my friend. It's a complex matter really, coming down to an analysis of both base ingredients and the distillation process."
"Jamie - " I attempted again.
"That," declared Jamie, "we can both agree on. And Beefeater is vastly superior in both."
"Give it up, Fleur," Bastien told me in a low voice, eyes twinkling. "You can't compete with gin. Better luck tomorrow."
I started to protest, but further listening to Luis and Jamie's debate told me Bastien was right. Jamie was so fixated on defending his gin's honor that I doubt he would've even remembered me asking about Milton.
"Will he be sober tomorrow?" I asked skeptically.
"No," said Phoebe. "But he's usually a little less drunk during the first half of the day."
The gin arrived, and Luis and Jamie became totally consumed with conducting "scientific" examinations on it, involving scent and surface tension. I didn't really see how the latter made that much of a difference in a taste test, but they seemed to think it was a pretty serious matter.
"Dear God," I murmured, amazed.
Bastien finished off his cocktail. "When things turn serious, it's time for me to leave. What do you say, ladies? Would you like to go search out the clubs for some companionship ?"
"I've got an early day tomorrow," Phoebe said with regret. "I should probably just go home now. But you'll be at practice tomorrow, right?"
"I guess so," I said. "I told Matthias I would."
Despite ostensibly being involved in liquor analysis, Luis glanced over at the sound of the company manager's name. "Oh? Did you arrange the introduction?"
I nodded. "Phoebe got me signed on."
Luis looked pleased. "Excellent. Are you happy with it?"
The question surprised me, but then I remembered his earlier comment upon my arrival, about how he wanted happy employees. "I think so. I think it'll be a lot of fun."
"Good. And what did you think