Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

" T o be honest, Gwil, I'm fed up with all this self-righteousness that certain institutions think they have the justification to hold on to anything that's not bolted down. I just want my father's pocket watch back. I bought it for him as a present so by rights, as next of kin, I should be able to have it now he is no longer with us. I even have the original receipt."

Gwil could sympathise, he really could, but most things were never as cut and dried as his clients thought they should be. "Yes, well, you need to understand that you claiming to have bought a watch in 1624 is not going to be the easiest way to demand back lost property."

Tobias Flume huffed, a false action, as being a vampire and dead for three hundred years meant he didn't breathe. "It's a disgrace. And to think I would never have even known it was in there if I hadn't been invited by one of their own bloody curators to a British Museum After Dark special access tour."

"You wouldn't have gone to an afternoon special would you, gets a bit toasty with all that daylight about." As a fellow vampire, Gwil thought he could get away with being flippant. He was wrong.

"You are missing the point. There I was, minding my own business, enjoying the revamped—excuse the dreadful expression—horology exhibition and I looked in one of the cases and there it was."

"How can you be sure? It might have been a similar watch, as I mentioned, it was a long time ago."

"It was monogrammed and set with sapphires to match my eye colour. It was unique." Tobias leant forwards in his seat, and stared at him, making Gwil squirm a little. "So will you help or not?"

He'd never hear the end of it if he didn't, if not from Tobias then from one of his many hangers-on or Vampire Council contacts. Gwil's access to this very fine undead-gentlepersons club could be whisked away if Tobias snapped his manicured fingers. Not to mention, a few bad words scattered through the undead elite and he could kiss goodbye to his cushy cases that needed little to no effort and were as lucrative as fuck. "What do you want me to actually do? Work up some false paper trail, which is a bit more modern so you can petition the museum to have it returned?"

"No, I want you to break in and take it. You and your associate have a solid reputation, I don't think it would be beyond your capabilities."

"You want me to rob the British Museum?"

"It's not stealing when you are returning property to its rightful owners. And it's one little pocket watch. It's not like I'm the Greek government asking you to liberate the Elgin Marbles or join the museum's staff as a curator."

In theory, it was doable, but it wasn't the sort of thing they got involved in. He didn't think Hyax would be too keen, and since it would be his fae abilities they'd be leaning on, it would be a tricky negotiation with his business partner.

"It's not really our sort of case." He knew the minute he said the less-than-blanket refusal that it would not be the end of it.

Tobias smirked. "I can make it worth your while. A sizable fee. Or maybe the freehold of new premises, on a powerful ley line and not that weak thing you're on at the moment."

That was a real carrot, trying to get on the supernatural property ladder was brutal in London, it wasn't as if you could wait for someone to die and vacate a spot. He wasn't a family member of one of the Houses on the Vampire Council, like his sister had managed to marry into, nor was he the bottom of the barrel either, thanks to his sire, but he was not on par with Tobias with his connections as one named sired offspring of the Dark Viscount of Hampstead in the House of Devereaux.

"All right. Send me the details—and I'll give it some thought and discuss it with my partner. If we think it feasible, I'll be in touch and we can talk further."

Tobias's smile was a little too on the toothy side to be genuine. "I knew you'd see the light."

"But I do not want this getting out. Or we'll be swamped by requests. I mean it, this would be a once-in-an-after-lifetime opportunity, never to be repeated. I don't want some old countess demanding I steal her rubies from the Louvre because they were impounded during the French Revolution."

"I think you're missing a lucrative business venture." Tobias picked up his mobile phone and scowled as, just like every other time, the facial recognition didn't work, and tapped the screen. "I'll have my secretary send over the details. Now, how about a spot of dinner and something to drink? I hear they've a twenty-five-year-old German on offer, or a forty-five French."

Gwil wrinkled his nose. "Nothing Italian? Or a younger French?"

Tobias sighed. "You really have the most pedestrian of tastes."

All things considered, he'd come a long way since he'd been turned in 1843. He'd travelled the world, seen the living fail to destroy themselves more times than he could remember. Of everything he'd expected when he'd become a vampire, bureaucracy and administration had not been high on the list. True, there'd been the super-human strength, an element of the sexy thrall capabilities and the opportunity for a bloody long non-life, but the paperwork it had taken to register his status based on his sire had been horrendous, and the constant interference by multiple vampire sub-councils was a little hard to bear some days. The hierarchical bullshit was maddening, to be officially claimed by his sire had taken decades, and it was a good job he'd bothered, as he couldn't have applied for his enhanced business permit if he hadn't. From the stories he'd heard, the forty-year process had been fast and smooth and Gwil suspected he could thank being turned by the highly revered Solivatus as the sole reason for that and not his capabilities or how good he looked in a waistcoat.

Gwil let himself into the back door of the property housing both his business—and his home. The business—and by that he meant his consulting rooms—was on the ground floor and his private living accommodation was upstairs. By human standards, it was high-spec and desirable but compared to some of the places owned by his fellow vampires—who had been able to amass more wealth in a lifespan than the average Russian oligarch—it was a bit meh. That he hadn't joined the monetary elite was another bugbear, and that the countless riches weren't a done deal hadn't been made clear by his sire. Being dead wasn't all it was cracked up to be and he hadn't been prepared to have the same issues with class privilege as he'd had when he'd been alive—if anything, they were worse.

"Hyax?" he called out, sort of hoping his business partner wasn't about since it was outside their office hours and Hyax didn't live here, although he spent more time at Gwil's than anywhere else in the human realm.

"I'll be out in a minute," came a reply from the bathroom. "I'm getting ready for tonight."

He sighed and trudged into the kitchen, knowing he couldn't put off talking to Hyax about the conversation with Flume. He wasn't hungry, the blood had filled him up, but not being hungry had never been a reason for him to not eat chocolate or drink tea, so he grabbed a few squares from his stash of the good stuff, made himself a cup of Darjeeling and headed back downstairs to his office, knowing Hyax's concept of a minute was longer than even his fellow fae.

Several mouthfuls of chocolate and half a mug of tea later he was in a much better mood and he felt as if he might be able to tackle his to-do list. His caseload was not insubstantial, since he had built a solid reputation, and he was skimming his notes on a missing banshee when Hyax sailed into his office.

If he'd had breath it would have caught when he saw him, and that wasn't an unusual event. Hyax's long blond hair had been braided and he was wearing a close-fitting suit that would have made a weaker man whimper. His kohled eyes dazzled and Gwil swallowed thickly. "Turn it down a notch will you?"

"Sorry, Gwil, didn't realise I was still projecting. If I don't check when I do my eyeliner I can end up looking like a panda." The glow receded but it didn't stop him from being a beautiful bastard. "You called?"

"It can wait if you've plans." Hyax always seemed to have plans, and never with Gwil. Which was a different issue…

"I've plenty of time. Besides, I like to keep a man waiting, lets me see a different part of their aura if they get annoyed by it. Much easier to manipulate."

"Hot date then?"

"Depends on your definition of hot and date , I suppose. Mortal footballer. Great legs, but the jury's out on whether he can hold a conversation. Now what did you want?"

Hyax perched on his desk and Gwil wished he wouldn't, nearly fifteen years of pining was beginning to bite, vampire pun not intended. "I had a meeting with Tobias at the club. He's got a proposition for us."

Hyax groaned. "Honestly, Gwil, when will you learn that his ilk never has your best interests at heart?"

Probably around the same time he'd admit to being in love with his fae best friend and business partner, which would be never. "He's sending over a contract with terms and they'll include a property freehold on a fast ley line."

Hyax cocked his head to one side. "Oh no. You've already said yes, haven't you? There's no way you'll have turned that sort of offer down."

"I told him I would think about it. But you must be at least a little bit curious about a gig that can offer such a reward." Only the ley line would have tempted Hyax since the case involved Flume—someone not important enough in vampire society for Hyax or his family to care about appeasing. Hyax had never needed the money, not surprising given his position as prince of one of seven fae tribes, and was, at certain times, picky over what he'd help with.

"It won't be good whatever it is. I suppose since you're telling me you'll be expecting me to get involved otherwise, or your dealings with Flume would have gone unmentioned."

He wasn't wrong but Gwil wasn't going to admit it. "I share all important business conversations, so I resent you'd think I'd keep something from you. Besides, at its heart, it's a simple property reclaim."

"If it were simple then the old melon scrote would have asked someone else to do it and wouldn't be offering what he is. What's the catch?"

No point in soft-soaping it. "The item he wants returning is in the British Museum."

Hyax's eyes flashed gold—he was fucking beautiful when he was angry. He stormed towards the door. "You're a fucking twat!"

The slam caused the whole room to shake.

Still, it could have gone a lot worse.