30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

The maid had created a multitude of plaits in my hair, tied them in a low bun and decorated it with some flowers, then she'd applied some white powder to my skin and a light rouge to my cheeks. I dreaded to think what the makeup was made of; fingers crossed for beetroot as opposed to crushed beetles. She applied some sort of oil to my eyelashes and my eyebrows. I longed for a swipe of mascara, but it wasn't to be.

When she was finally done, I wanted to heave a sigh of relief but I couldn't because I didn't want to waste what little air I could fit into my lungs.

I slipped Terrance back on and stepped out. Greg was leaning against the wall and Torrance was still juggling. His hands stilled when he saw the maid step out behind me; without her being able to see the fire he was casually tossing, the movement of his hands would look odd in the extreme .

Greg blinked at the sight of me. ‘Wow,' he said finally. ‘That's a look.' I gave him a flat stare and he recovered some of his aplomb. ‘I mean, you look amazing but it's not an everyday look.'

I grinned. ‘Thank God. I can't even breathe.'

‘Breathing is overrated,' Torrance quipped.

‘This way,' the maid ordered, her voice prim with disapproval at our familiarity. She had glanced at my hands and, seeing no rings adorned them, could only assume that Greg and I had some sort of scandalous relationship. To be fair, she wasn't wrong.

We followed her through the back corridors out to the main doors where the ogre we'd travelled with was loitering. He pushed off the wall when he saw me and grunted, ‘Thanks, Mary, I'll take it from here.'

Mary sniffed and left. The ogre pushed open the double doors and deafening noise exploded into my ears. Too loud , Esme complained.

The huge hall was full of people. A string quartet was playing and people were dancing. Others had gathered in clusters around the edges of the hall, talking and drinking. Bursts of raucous laughter occasionally came from the assembled guests and I thought rather jealously that at least they were having a good time .

I longed for a glass of bubbles but knew better than to take one. It was best to keep my brain switched on and engaged – I'd need all my wits about me and I couldn't afford to drown any of them in alcohol. If Timmy Krieg's progeny was any indicator, then Timmy Krieg was indeed a dangerous man. I took a moment to remind myself of the ogre rules of proper conduct; no prolonged periods of eye contact, no letting my shadow touch his.

We followed the minion ogre to where another ogre sprawled on what was clearly intended to be a throne. Was Timmy the High King too? You'd think Torrance or Ali would have mentioned that. Maybe he just had aspirations; I didn't mind that; I had aspirations too.

As we strode towards him, the ogre on the throne brightened. He had blue-black hair and two monstrous horns protruding from his head. His left arm was sizeably larger than his right like it was always an arm day for him but he only trained on the left-hand side.

We can take him, Esme said confidently.

For the first time, I seriously doubted her. This man was huge, and the metal mace resting casually by his throne was all kinds of spiky. We'd be like a pincushion when he was done with us.

‘Torr!' Krieg called. He surged to his feet, grabbed his mace and swung the mighty thing, casually resting the instrument of death on his shoulder. He swaggered forward to clap the fire elemental on his back. I was tense, ready to shift at the first sign of that mace swinging at me or at Torrance.

A casual observer might have thought that the men were friends – except that Timmy used a shade too much force with his backslap and rocked Torrance forward almost off his feet. No, they weren't friends but for some reason Timmy was happy to play make believe.

If Ali was right then Torrance was ‘the one that got away', not from a romance but from a criminal organisation. Once you joined Timmy Krieg's Sloggers, you didn't leave – yet Torrance had done so. I'd bet that show of affection was because Krieg had pretended he'd let Torrance leave willingly and not because he'd been paid a king's ransom to do so. He didn't want the others getting ideas.

‘Timmy,' Torrance replied, a shade stiffly as he regained his footing.

‘Good to see you, my man.' Timmy shot him a sly grin. He laid a little too much emphasis on ‘ my' and Torrance swallowed hard. Timmy seemed to relish making him uncomfortable. He winked. ‘You're always welcome back, you know. I still haven't found another elemental that fits in as well as you did. '

‘No, thank you,' Torrance said primly. ‘My marauding days are behind me.'

‘Maybe so,' Timmy said with quiet menace. ‘I guess we'll see.' He turned to the ogre next to him. ‘Fred, grab a Knight of the Napkin and get us some fizz.'

Fred stepped away and collared a waiter to bring us a tray of drinks.

‘So,' Timmy said as he sipped, the glass looking like a thimble in his oversized fist. He turned to me with a condescending sneer. ‘What's a nice little wolf like you doing in a place like this?'

I smiled faintly. ‘Who said I was nice?' I let that sit for a moment, and in our head Esme bared her teeth. I let all my regal authority build and show in my eyes, then I held Timmy's gaze for a beat too long. Before he got too riled, I deigned to answer his question. Kind of. ‘I am here because your man Fred brought me.'

Fred had seen the predator in me too and he balked a little at the suggestion that he'd manhandled me in some way. ‘She didn't resist,' he muttered hastily, ‘She came right along. Asked to see you. By name.'

‘I rather gathered that resistance would have been futile,' I said laconically.

Timmy's eyes swept up and down me, lingering overly long on my meagre bust. There wasn't much for him to linger over so I was pretty sure that he was doing it to make me feel uncomfortable. It was an amateur power play, but he didn't know that I came from a time where women weren't just bed warmers. I was more than a pretty face; he could learn that the hard way if he needed to.

He leered at me. ‘You're a fine filly.'

‘She's taken,' Greg growled forcefully, his jaw working. Only an idiot would have missed seeing him move his hands closer to his waist where no doubt various weapons were hidden.

Timmy shot a questioning look at Fred who shook his head guiltily; he'd been so focused on me that he hadn't checked Greg for weapons. His jaw tightened but when he spoke his voice was still light, devil may care. ‘Is she? I can't see a ring, fella.' He took another slow sip of his champagne and looked Greg over.

‘It's being made,' Greg shot back tightly.

Timmy smiled unpleasantly. ‘All the same … I could just get rid of you.'

‘You could try,' I interjected with a laugh. ‘But if you succeeded,' I let all the humour leave my voice, ‘then I'd get rid of you.'

Timmy looked startled for a moment and then burst out laughing. ‘Could you, now?' he said between chuckles. ‘ Ah, now I like you even more! Tell me, little wolf, what brings you to my town?'

We are NOT little, Esme snarled.

He's trying to rile us.

Well, it's working. I am riled. We should shift and eat him.

Not today. We have the orb to save, remember?

Esme sank back into my head muttering mutinously, but nevertheless she lay down.

‘We're just passing through,' I said. ‘We're not here to interfere in your business.'

Timmy laughed again. ‘As if you could. If you tried, I'd kill you with my own hands. I'd wring that pretty neck quicker than you can say "six feet under".'

Before I could respond with a retort, a seer approached. Her dark hair was piled in an elaborate updo and she was dressed in lilac couture, which served to accentuate the dark purple of her skin. She jostled me as she joined the group, ‘I'm so sorry!' she said with faux sincerity.

‘No you're not.' I sighed. ‘You did it on purpose. I'd rather you own it than pretend it was an accident.' I took in the strength of her shoulders and set of her jaw. ‘You're not a feeble woman, so don't pretend that you are. Now, did you get a good read off me?'

The seer smiled. ‘Just a little taste. A handshake would give me more.' She held out her hand optimistically.

I shook my head and gave a short bark of laughter. ‘No, thank you. I'm no fool.'

She pouted. ‘Enough flirting, Candice,' Timmy growled importantly. ‘What did you get from our guest?'

‘Not so much what , as when .'

Oh fucksticks. That wasn't good. I was obviously shit at keeping a low profile. And this … this was Candice . The ‘strong' woman that the seer at the Other circus had told me about; the one that would be perfect for ‘him'. But who the hell was the ‘him'?

Timmy raised a questioning eyebrow at Candice and her smirk widened. Her eyes were warm as she looked at the ogre. ‘She's from the future, Timmy – and she can definitely help us with our little problem.'

Double fucksticks.