28. Arabella

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

ARABELLA

Maisie: I know you don’t want to risk your client relationships by being nosy, but if you could find out anything about this lady who Danny molested at Sanctus, that would be amazing. I’m concerned that we don’t have any leads in the case, and the police are starting to talk about circling back to Alaric and Winnie.

Beth: Don’t forget to tell your clients that I have a secret vampire special for 50% off facial scrubs!

Isis: ARABELLLLLA, HEEEEEELP. You’re the only one of us with actual connections in the vampire world! Well, apart from Winnie, but Alaric’s such a loner that he hardly counts. Please use your powers for good to help us solve the case. And also please tell your clients that I’ve got plenty of Bless Your New Home charms on sale this week if they want a little ritual for when they get the keys to their new Sanctus homes.

A lyra Maythorn of the Blood Kincaid upends the first of seventeen hessian sacks onto her minimalist coffee table. Gold coins rain down, spilling over the edges and scattering across the Danish white oak floor.

Alyra leans back in her chair, crossing her elegant legs. A slow smirk plays across her features as I take in the enormity of the task she’s given me.

Vampires. Always so smug .

“You see my issue.” She trails her finger around the rim of a wine glass filled with…not wine. “Within the Midnight Court, we never had to deal with human money. I wanted things, and things appeared. My entire fortune is in these gold pieces that I’m informed should probably be in a museum. Gideon allowed me to pay for my house with a couple of bags, but now I can’t do anything else with them!”

Ah, yes, the infamous Gideon Blake, developer of the Sanctus Estate. I suppose I should be thankful to the guy – my vampire client base is growing steadily now that Sanctus residents are starting to move into the area. I am still yet to meet the man, which is just as well. I prefer to fraternize with the undead as little as possible.

Besides, I hate people named Gideon. What a pretentious, vampire name. Bloodsuckers are insufferable, but they do pay handsomely for my discretion, and I have a standard of living to maintain.

Alyra is still going on about her not-problems. “—I tried to use a couple of the Merovingian coins to pay for a nice end table at the furniture store in the village and the lady looked at me like I was mad. Tell me what I need to do. Will a museum give me human money for these?”

“If you take these to a museum, they’re just as likely to expect you to gift them for nothing.” I inspect one of the coins. I can already think of ten contacts who will be interested in this hoard, and will pay Alyra a tidy nest egg that, properly invested, will set her up for eternity. “I will have these sold privately and bank accounts set up with your name. I take fifteen percent commission of every coin sold, and the fee structure for my investment services is outlined in our contract.”

One good thing about vampire clients, they’re so used to storing their wealth in literal treasure chests that they have no idea what financial services are actually worth. Hence, the nice nest egg I’ve accumulated and the fourth pair of Louboutin slingbacks that I purchased this month.

Speaking of which, they’re pinching something rotten. I can’t wait to finish this meeting so I can get home and kick them off.

As Alyra prattles on about all the new furniture she wants to buy, my phone beeps again. More book club nonsense, no doubt. I never should have told those ladies what I do. If you don’t count Isis’ psychic abilities (which I don’t, since they don’t exist), and Mina’s occasionally magical bookshop that brought her three fictional villains as husbands, I’m one of the only book club members who has anything directly to do with the world of the supernatural, and they view me as an inside source, even through I am anything but inside.

Vampires of Alyra’s pedigree are very careful with their circles. They trust few other vampires, and even fewer humans. I have worked hard to build my reputation as a trustworthy custodian of vampiric wealth, and I’m not about to blow all of that because Isis Meriwether wants to cultivate a supernatural clientele at her kitschy witchy shop.

But the husking is a concern, especially since we know the vampire has a taste for it now, and will strike again.

I sigh inwardly and address Alyra. “Thank you for trusting me with your wealth. I won’t let you down. And welcome to Argleton. I trust you’re enjoying your new home? It must be quite a change after living at court.”

“I love it here,” she beams. “I grew weary of drafty old castles and spiderwebs that have been in the corners since the Reformation. My new home is modern and clean, and the fancy windows block out all the sunlight during the day. Everything at Sanctus runs smoothly and the amenities Gideon provides are world-class,” she huffs. “Mostly.”

“You have had issues?” I’m interested now. I’ve heard nothing but rave reviews of the estate. It’s rated 4.8 stars on all the hot vampire apps. It almost makes me wish I could live here.

She blanches, but then seems to decide to trust me, because she leans forward and takes a delicate sip. “Gideon has a number of humans working on the estate – architects, lighting designers, gardeners, etc. Most of them have no idea about the true nature of the community he’s building here, but Gideon’s had to allow a few of them more intimate knowledge of our kin – all under the strictest confidences. Gideon’s NDAs are watertight and sanctioned by the Conclave.”

I nod. ‘Sanctioned by the Conclave’ means that if word gets out that a human worker reveals vampire secrets, vampire justice applies. And vampire justice is brutal .

“Gideon keeps a handyman. Human. UnThralled, although someone had a few nibbles, judging by the state of his neck when he showed up at my place. I needed him to fix a lightbulb next to my coffin, but when I showed him into my bedroom, he became quite a nuisance, asking me to bite him, touching me, trying to kiss me. I didn’t appreciate it. I told Gideon and he fired the boy immediately. And I heard that he got into a spot of bother in the village and found himself husked.” She smiles. “Such a pity. That’s a brutish way to go. I do hope that justice prevails and the husker is caught.”

I didn’t think Danny O’Hare would be stupid enough to try all his old tricks with vampires, but I’ve been surprised by stupidity before.

“I hope so, too.” My mind churns as I take in everything Alyra has told me. She certainly had a motive to get rid of Danny. And husking would feel like a fitting punishment. And I happen to know that Alyra was in the village that night, because I said hello to her at the pub on my way to the Nevermore Murder Club table.

“Of course, with the Lady of Agony in the village, anything is possible.”

“Who?” I’ve never heard of a local vampire with such an early 2000s MySpace moniker.

“Lady Callista Valerian, of course. Alaric Valerian’s mother.” Alyra sets her drink down on the table and flips her perfect auburn waves over her shoulder. “I was over at the Sanctus Club earlier – that’s the private club for Sanctus members, obviously – and I heard from Dalton Le Rue that her car has been spotted speeding through the village towards her son’s castle. Dalton says he saw Princess Perdita Chastain through the window. What an unlikely pair! Especially considering all the trouble at court lately. I’ll most definitely be attending her ball to see for myself what has her dropping in on her wayward son?—”

As Alyra drones on, I tally up everything I’ve learned. Alyra has a motive to kill Danny, which means if she’s the husker then she will be groaning with hunger again by the time the ball comes around. But how can the Nevermore Murder Club prove it before she hurts someone else, without tarnishing my reputation in vampire circles?