Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
As soon as she left the building after promising to return in a day’s time with her terms to seal the deal, Mallory turned smartly right and walked to the end of the street where Boris was waiting.
‘You’re still alive then?’ the yellow-eyed spriggan called out as she approached.
She twirled and held out her arms. ‘As you see. Vampires are not to be feared, Boris. I keep telling you that. As long as you are not a threat to them, they will not harm you.’
He shuddered. ‘Any creature who spontaneously combusts at the first sign of a sunbeam is to be feared. You’re as afraid of them as I am.’
She patted him on the back. ‘You’re being melodramatic.’
‘I most certainly am not.’ He sniffed and gave her a long look from beneath his blond eyelashes. ‘What did he ask for?’
‘I’m not going to tell you that.’
‘What are you going to give him in return?’
‘I’m not going to tell you that either.’
‘But you are going to deal with him?’
She took some time before answering. ‘It seems likely. Can you set up a meeting for me tomorrow morning with Nicola Sturgess?’
‘The witch?’
‘Yep.’
‘She’s on the Council.’
‘All the more reason to meet with her,’ Mallory said mildly. ‘Besides, it’ll be good to get her favour off the books. There are only a few weeks before the time runs out on it.’
‘Less. You only have ten days remaining on that contract.’
Oh. Mallory absorbed that news, then shrugged and gave her assistant a sunny smile. ‘Then this is the perfect opportunity for her to repay what she owes.’
Boris sighed heavily. ‘Okay.’ He reached into his waistcoat and drew out a small leather-bound diary. Gripping a nub of a pencil in his green fingers, he scratched a reminder to himself before tucking the pad away again.
Not for the first time, Mallory told herself that she should start doing something similar to remain organised and on task.
The minutiae of her life tended towards haphazard chaos which caused more problems for her than she cared to admit.
Her strengths lay in remembering people, not dates and numbers.
‘I should tell you that your meeting with Kit McCafferty was due to start five minutes ago,’ Boris said. ‘You’re going to be very late.’
Mallory grimaced; it was never a good look to arrive late to an appointment. Fortunately, she doubted McCafferty would mind. The cat lady presented a benign front to the world even though Mallory suspected there was far more to her than met the eye. ‘We should get going, then.’
Boris nodded, raised his thumb and forefinger to his mouth and whistled.
There was a moment’s silence followed by the thundering of hooves along the cobbled streets.
There were many benefits to having a Fae spriggan in service to her, and the ability to magically summon transport at a moment’s notice was one of them.
‘I don’t know what I’d do without you,’ she said.
His tone was dry. ‘I’m certain that you’d manage. In two years, nine months and fifteen days’ time, when my favour to you is complete, you will manage.’
‘Not that you’re counting the days or anything.’
‘I’m counting the days, the hours and the minutes. But you’re not bad for a boss. I’ve had worse.’
‘I’m a great boss,’ Mallory retorted. At least she tried to be. ‘And just to prove it, you can head off for the night once I get to Vallese.’
Boris swept a bow. ‘Your wish is my command, my lady.’
Vallese, an expensive Italian restaurant in one of the smarter suburbs of Coldstream, was the sort of place that you were supposed to dress up for.
Mallory’s grubby shoes and casual clothing might not have raised eyebrows at Chester Longchamps’ place but she knew she’d feel out of place at the restaurant.
If there’d been time she would have gone home to change, but it was what it was.
She patted down her colourful clothing, which at least didn’t look too creased, but there was no point attempting to do anything with her hair. Her springy brown curls had a mind of their own and past experience had taught Mallory that it was better to let them be.
As she approached the restaurant door, she mentally reviewed the information she’d retrieved for Kit McCafferty.
The cat lady had wanted to know what the Witches’ Council were discussing in their daily meetings that week.
In theory, that information was restricted to council members only but Mallory hadn’t needed to approach the likes of Nicola Sturgess to find it out.
Late last year she’d helped a young witchling find a job at the grand council headquarters and he was still paying off that debt in small incremental favours.
It had been an easy matter to ask him to find out what was top of the council members’ agenda.
He’d recently been tasked with serving coffee and cake during their breaks and eavesdropping on their conversations took no effort on his part, though some mysterious shenanigans concerning a particular Fetch who’d been arrested for murder earlier in the day had delayed matters somewhat.
Obviously Mallory wasn’t planning to tell Kit just how easy it had been to get the information; those sorts of secrets were hers alone.
The scent of red roses tickled her nostrils and she was mindful of the small candles dotting the fringes of the red carpet that led to Vallese’s interior.
The skirt she was wearing was beautiful but cheap and she’d likely flare up like a vampire in sunlight if the hem caught any of the flickering flames.
She nodded appreciatively at the tuxedoed violinist at the entrance and smiled at the ma?tre d’ who appeared mildly panicked at her approach. She delved into her memory for his name – John? Jack? Something like that. She chewed her lip and concentrated. James. That was it.
He’d worked for Vallese for years and was a loyal employee.
She’d made an approach to cultivate him as a useful source of information about the guests who passed through the restaurant’s hallowed doors but he’d refused immediately.
He took his job seriously and considered blabbing to be a betrayal of the highest order, regardless of what information his boss passed over to her with loose-lipped ease.
James was one of the good guys. He’d not even taken any offence at her approach, just declined politely and changed the subject.
Mallory held up her hands to forestall any polite remark he might voice at her lack of a dinner reservation. ‘Good evening! I’m not here to eat,’ she told him. ‘I have a meeting with one of your guests. I just need a moment of Kit McCafferty’s time.’
‘Mr Vallese did not mention that you would visiting us tonight, Ms Nash.’
‘He doesn’t know, and there’s no need to bother him. As I said, I’m here on business. I’m not looking for any food.’ She paused. ‘Though a glass of wine might be nice.’ Vallese’s cellar was extensive, and if there was one thing of which Mallory heartily approved it was a wide selection of wine.
James continued to fret. ‘Mr Vallese will want to know…’
This was the problem when you’d worked for a lot of different people in the city: you often rubbed up against them when you were dealing with other clients. Not everyone was as circumspect as James, and Mallory doubted that Kit would appreciate the restaurant owner overhearing their conversation.
‘Please,’ she interrupted. ‘I am sure he’s busy in the kitchen. Don’t bother him.’
She craned her neck so she could peer into the well-lit restaurant. Kit was in the far corner – at the best table of the house, in fact. The purple-haired woman was staring into the distance looking vaguely bored. Opposite her sat a werewolf.
Mallory blinked. That wolf was Alexander MacTire, alpha of the MacTire pack. Huh. She’d learned a lot about him from a potential werewolf client only a few weeks earlier who had told her that MacTire was yielding to the demands of his pack and actively searching for a mate.
Mallory wouldn’t have put Kit and MacTire together as a couple; in fact, she was certain that Kit was involved romantically with Thane Barrow, who was a far better match for her.
Unless the cat lady was hedging her bets, which seemed unlikely, this was probably a business meal and not a romantic interlude.
It was a strange venue for an official meeting but perhaps Alexander MacTire wanted to show off; from what little she’d heard about him, that seemed a distinct probability.
‘I’ll just nip in and out,’ Mallory told the ma?tre d’. ‘Five minutes, tops.’ Before he could protest further, she slipped past him and went inside. Sadly, she only managed a few steps before she was accosted by a frowning waiter whom she didn’t recognise.
‘Can I help you, ma’am?’ he asked in a polite clipped tone that was only one degree away from gazing up and down derisively at her somewhat dishevelled appearance.
Mallory pointed at the table. ‘I need to speak to one of your guests for a few minutes. Kit McCafferty. She’s over there.’
‘You can wait outside until they’ve finished their meal. Then, if Miss McCafferty wishes to speak to you, I am sure she will do so.’
Mallory held her ground. ‘She’s expecting me.’ The waiter wrinkled his nose. ‘I am going over to speak to her,’ she told him softly. ‘Unless you want to throw me out and ruin everyone’s evening, it is going to happen.’
James was gesturing vigorously from the other side of the front door to attract the waiter’s attention and tell him that Mallory was more than welcome. Unfortunately the poor man didn’t notice. ‘Fine,’ he sighed at the apparently shocking imposition on his time. ‘Wait here for one moment.’
Mallory smiled. As the waiter went to speak to Kit, she turned to James and waved him off through the glass. She’d got what she wanted and his involvement would only complicate matters.
She watched as the waiter nodded to Kit, and Alexander MacTire stood up and headed for the restroom. Excellent. Without waiting any longer, she strode forward. ‘Hey, Kit!’