Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

T he nature of Gwil's client base meant most of them didn't operate to a standard timeline, immortal beings tended to lose days, years even, so he was surprised when he received the details from Tobias the following evening. It helped that he kept a goblin, who were probably the most officious arseholes in any universe, as a secretary.

He examined the photo of the watch and, while he was sure it was a fabulous example of the period, he couldn't understand why Tobias was so insistent on its return. There had to be some sort of grudge or slighted pride behind this, as he'd even gone so far as to provide the name of an elfish silversmith who could create a replica, which seemed a little over-the-top. Perhaps he could get Hyax to deal with them. Gwil still had the scars from an encounter with a bad-tempered elf he was in no hurry to repeat. Better still, he could replace it with one of his own pocket watches from before he'd been turned or find something in one of the many pawnbrokers in the city. Anything was better than dealing with an elf in a shit mood armed with jewellers' tools and an eye for precision.

Gwil scanned the paperwork and found the commitment to pay their rates at time and half, with generous expenses, and the promise of deeds to a townhouse in Spitalfields. He re-read the address—twice. While the human world would have valued his current place at a similar value, the network of the supernatural infrastructure running beneath the area would be so much better and was reason enough to do the gig. All being well, Hyax would be in a more positive disposition if he'd got laid last night.

December in London meant his working day was longer, since he could make use of the reduced hours of sunlight. And now would be a good time to pop out and get Hyax some of the fancy lavender bonbons he liked. Gwil thought they tasted like soap but he didn't have to eat them.

Some of his fellow vampires had an aversion to being around the living unless they were food shopping, but he liked mingling with them knowing they hadn't a clue the bloke sitting next to them had more interest in their blood type than they did. He hadn't the desire to be mortal again, but he liked to see people bustling around, going about their dull business as if it were the most important thing in the world. He also liked the Tube, especially at rush hour when he could be pressed up against many bodies and it be socially acceptable which, when he was alive would have caused apoplexy.

The Christmas shoppers were out in full force and there was something about the season of tidings and joy that made Londoners the most miserable fuckers on Earth. The confectionery shop had been at the same spot in Fitzrovia for the last two hundred years, with somehow no one noticing it was able to remain open, and financially viable, between high-end clothing boutiques and art galleries. Or that Madame Filliary hadn't aged a day in all that time, not that she tended to the shop often these days, as she had a collection of nieces and daughters who answered the call.

The old-fashioned bell rang as he entered the shop, activating the scanner informing the staff he was the type of customer who wouldn't be concerned about being served by a dripping-wet naiad with her feet in a bucket of cold water.

"Hi, Nella."

"Evening, Gwil. What have you done to upset Hyax this time?" she asked, her neck fronds quivering in amusement.

"I don't just come here for lavender bonbons," he replied, but realised he'd never bought anything else. He scanned the shelves. "I might want some of the lemon swizzle thingies for me."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "No you don't. They're toxic to vampires."

"Why are they toxic to vampires?"

"They've silver in 'em. It's what makes them swizzle."

They were definitely out, and not worth the risk of having them in the house and him forgetting until he was halfway through the bag. Not a deadly reaction but sloughing was not pretty and he took ages to grow flesh back. "But I could be getting them for someone else. Maybe Hyax. Might be a nice change from the lavender soap sweets."

Her nostrils flared. "I wouldn't think you'd want to take the risk."

He had no idea what she meant by that, the fae weren't allergicto silver as far as he knew. "What risk?"

"The silver can carry into fae sperm, so when you're shagging you might get an arse or face full."

He thought he did well not to swallow his tongue. "Thanks for your concern, but we're not shagging."

She bit her lip and gave him a look of the utmost pity. "Oh, you poor bastard. Unrequited love sucks golem balls."

He closed his eyes and counted to ten. He'd known Nella for over a hundred years, stopped her doing stupid things with dust bombs when she'd been dumped by a beautiful human boy, and she thought she had a right to interfere in his life. "I'll have to leave the expert knowledge of golem balls and sucking them to you. I'll have two hundred grams of lavender bonbons."

She sniggered and floated up, past several rows of sweet jars sitting on dark mahogany shelves, and selected the one containing the purple glowing spheres. "So what have you done to upset him if it's not because you've caused a wrinkle to your love life?"

"Just work. Nothing I can discuss."

She sniffed as she weighed out the sweets. "Maybe you should make it about romance, at least you'd be happy if giving him sweets finally sorted it out."

"He's my friend, and not interested in being anything more." Hyax could have any man he wanted, even outwardly straight men weren't averse to a little bit of fae action.

She gave him another pity smile. "Look, a few of us are going out tomorrow. Down to the Dock Club, we can all drink too much of our poison of choice, sing show tunes and pretend the pretty things in our lives didn't exist."

"It's tempting, but?—"

"But you're going to use work as an excuse. We'll be there from seven, we're starting early because the closer we get to the equinox… well, y'know."

He did know, the winter equinox in particular could be a trying time for many. "I'll think about it."

Before he could be harangued further he left, tucking the sweets into the inside pocket of his jacket. He picked up cat food and chocolate on the way back home and returned to find Hyax lying on the sofa reading Aesop's Fables .

"Good night?" he asked, but not wanting the details.

"Poor. He must have used up all his interesting qualities chasing the little leather ball around the pitch. Thought I'd be impressed by him sending a car and moderately expensive champagne. I'd give him a three—only because he did have nice legs."

"Right." He hurried into the kitchen, almost tripping over Midnight, his British Blue cat, who let out a yowl of complaint. If he hadn't wanted to know, he shouldn't have asked.

"Gwil? Is there something wrong?" Hyax stood in the door, just in jeans and a T-shirt he was still as sexy as fuck.

"No, just juggling stuff. Did you get to the Lucas case?" he asked, flicking on the kettle. "Oh, I got you these."

He fished out the lavender bonbons and handed them over. Hyax beamed.

Gwil's stomach knotted. If it had been solely a physical reaction, he'd have brushed this off years ago.

"Oh, I love these. Thanks. And yes, the Lucas case is fermenting. I've set up a tracking spell and a counter shield with half-triangulation. Should read out in a couple of hours."

"Great." He had no clue what any of that meant. Hyax's fae magic was beyond his comprehension most of the time, but he hoped that they'd know where Sammi Lucas's pet Hell-Chihuahua was. "Did you see the info Tobias sent?"

"I did… Now I understand why you didn't say no straight off the cuff. I'm sorry for storming out, I should know by now that, of the two of us, you're the one less likely to overreact."

"It is true that I didn't nearly break someone's neck because they left my hair straighteners on."

"It was an ancient fae wand, and the stupid twat tried to plug it in." Hyax reached over and ruffled his hair. "Pity, because you could have used its short hair setting to tame those curls."

Gwil thought he deserved a medal not to lean into the touch. "Enough of my follicle failings. How about we visit the British Museum tomorrow?"

"Late nights on Fridays. It's a date!"

He had a love-hate relationship with the British Museum. It was familiar from before he was turned, back when he'd strolled through it dressed in a frock coat and top hat. The exhibitions had changed over the years, as had the public's view on empire and whether most of the contents probably belonged to someone else. He'd taken Matilda there, a socially acceptable afternoon endeavour with the woman who, if he hadn't done what he'd done, would have become his wife. He hadn't loved her, nor her him, but love had little to do with marriage as far as he was concerned. Not in those days. He'd wanted to fight his dark side, had hoped Matilda would've been enough but she hadn't been, and then he'd met Solivatus and his life, and death had changed. Many vampires didn't remember much about life before they were turned, he guessed it was another fucking thing he'd been lucky with, typical that some of his most vivid memories were also his most annoying.

The idea of going with Hyax had a new connotation, a professional visit, still he wished he could be wandering arm-in-arm with Hyax around the exhibitions, instead he was just torturing himself and he needed to get a grip.