The Earl faced me, an impassive look in his azure eyes as the door slid shut, cutting off the noise from the foyer. The inside of the lift was a dark patterned metal, like an old, foxed mirror. All around us our reflections multiplied and watched us in the eerie quiet. Then I realised why the silence was so strange: the Earl wasn’t breathing; his heart wasn’t beating. It was almost as if he didn’t exist. My own heart sped faster. Did he need to feed? I shot a glance at the open neck of his shirt, but all I could see was pale skin and a shadow of darker blond hair.
Almost as if he could tell what I was thinking, he smiled, amused again, letting me glimpse fang for the first time. ‘Alone at last, my dear Genevieve.’ He took out a small key, placed it into a hole in the lift’s panel and turned it. The power cut off, leaving us in the dim light of a small emergency bulb. ‘There, that should ensure we are not disturbed.’
I gripped the silver invitation, tapped it against my chin, concentrating on the slight burn. ‘Any particular reason why?’ My pulse was kicking like a terrified rabbit, but at least my voice came out calm. ‘Or is that a stupid question?’
‘Please do not be alarmed. This—’ he held his hands open in a placatory gesture ‘—is just a precaution to ensure our discussion will remain private.’
Narrowing my gaze, I turned his words over in my mind, willing my pulse to slow, or trying to, anyway. Damn G-Zav. ‘You don’t want anyone to know you’re interested in the dead girl, do you?’
His eyes lit with approval. ‘Quite so—although my interest isn’t in the girl as such, but in the way she died.’
Join the queue!I felt like saying.
‘As I mentioned, I believe in honesty.’ He looked me straight in the eyes. ‘The girl’s death was caused by magic, some sort of spell. The incident is an outright attempt to blacken our public image.’
‘Going by the punters still queuing to get in, it doesn’t appear to have had much effect so far.’
‘One death can be labelled a tragic accident, a domestic, I understand it is called.’ He gestured, dismissive. ‘But I have every reason to believe there could be more.’
‘What’s that to do with me?’
‘You have an appointment with Mr Hinkley at the police station later. All being well, you should be able to see the girl’s body. I would like you to identify the spell used and, if possible, remove it. And I would appreciate if you would apprise me of your findings.’ He adjusted his cuffs. ‘In the meantime, I would also like you to carry out some investigations around the club, using your expertise in the area of magic, to see if there is anything else that might shed some light on the matter.’
I didn’t bother telling him I wasn’t a detective. No one wanted to believe me anyway. ‘Is this your way of hiring me?’
He nodded. ‘I would have preferred to contact you openly at Spellcrackers, of course, but allowing for the sometimes distrustful relations between vampires and witches, this seemed to be the most expedient way of dealing with the matter. I have obviously informed Inspector Crane about my concerns,’ He brushed at a speck on his sleeve. ‘But sadly, the good Inspector is new and untried, and is possibly more interested in clearing up a potentially inflammatory situation than finding the truth.’
Talking about inflammatory ...
‘So what was with the French Looney-Toon you brought with you last night?’
‘A miscalculation on my part.’ He adjusted his cuffs again; turning one heart-shaped cufflink the right way up. ‘Westman is an excellent lawyer, but sadly, since Louis and he have become enamoured of each other, his mind is not always on his work. As for our foreign guest, I was as surprised as any at his interest in the inspector.’ He gave me a rueful smile. ‘I do hope it won’t influence you against me in this matter.’
I shifted my feet, trying to ease the stretched muscles in my calves. Six-inch heels are not meant for standing still in. ‘You do know that the police found no magic on the girl’s body, don’t you?’
‘So Inspector Crane was kind enough to inform me. But she is not only a member of the police, but a witch too.’
Yeah right: so back to the trust thing.
‘Even if I find this spell,’ I said, ‘it’s not like I’ll be able to tell who cast it, so how are you going to stop it from happening again?’
‘The important thing is to find the spell, my dear. Any ramifications can be dealt with later.’
I studied him, then narrowed my eyes. ‘Did you know Melissa?’
‘She worked here.’ His impassive look was back. ‘I am sure that we must have spoken at some point.’
‘Did you know she was fae?’
‘As I said, we might have spoken, but I didn’t know her.’
‘Did you kill her?’
‘Not that I am aware.’
I blinked at that. ‘Either you did or you didn’t.’
‘Sadly, it is always possible that an inadvertent word or gesture of mine at the wrong time may have contributed to her death.’ He gave a slight shrug. ‘I have always found it pays to be honest.’
I wondered just how honesthe was really being—he wasn’t actively lying; vampires as old as him didn’t. They had that whole ‘my word is my honour’ thing going on. But even I could manage to twist words into the shape I wanted when necessary, and the Earl had a good eight centuries or so on me. So I doubted his honestywas the whole-and-nothing-but sort. Never mind that my bullshit antenna was twitching like a vamp junkie heading for a venom-seizure.
I pursed my lips. ‘Is there anything else you can tell me that might help?’
He shook his head. ‘I believe not.’
I leaned forward and locked eyes with him. In my six-inch platforms I was the same height as him. ‘Not even which vampire you suspect?’
He smiled. ‘I never said that I suspected anyone, my dear.’
‘You didn’t need to.’ I leaned back, hands braced either side of me. ‘It’s no secret that Mr Hinkley thinks that Melissa was killed by another vampire using magic. Or that he’s hired me. You’ve just confirmed that you agree with him.’
As had Declan when I’d visited the Bloody Shamrock. Obviously no one—other than the police—believed Melissa had died of anything other than some sort of magic.
I tapped my foot and carried on, ‘The only reason for this little tête-à-tête is just that. No room for anyone to hide and overhear what you’ve got to say to me. And if all you want is for me to find this so-called spell, you must have a pretty good idea who is responsible for it.’ I pursed my lips. ‘An invitation, ostensibly to visit your collection of bronzes, isn’t going to fool anyone.’
‘Although my collection is truly outstanding.’ He gave me an appreciative look. ‘As are you.’
‘So, either you’re going to tell me who it is, or you want themto think you have.’ I took a breath, wanting to slap the patronising approval off his face. ‘Which is it?’
‘But there is the rub, my dear.’ He sighed, turned the key in the lift panel. ‘I may have my suspicions, but without the spell, I have absolutely no proof.’
The lights came on and the lift lurched into life. I staggered a little, reaching out to steady myself ...
The air shiftedand I felt the same disorientation as before.
The lift had stopped. The door was open.
I looked out into the room beyond. It was a crowded lounge bar, and every face had turned to stare my way.
‘My dear.’ The Earl placed his hand at the small of my back and ushered me from the lift. I stepped out and the lift door pinged closed behind me.
Why had he shifted time again?
Frowning, I turned back, ready to demand an explanation...
But the Earl was gone, and I was on my own.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The private members’ bar was crowded with vampires and humans. The vamps gazed with such intensity through the dim light that my heartbeat thudded up a notch. The humans looked on with curiosity. Then they whispered. Then they talked. And glasses clinked and someone laughed a highpitched laugh and the tension that had filled the air slipped away like a wave flowing back into the sea.