Chapter Two
Two
“So what does he look like, then?”
Dante sniffed around my boots as I sat down at the kitchen table.
I lowered my hand to pet him as I answered.
I had gotten home too late the night before to do more than eat a hunk of cheese and some stale bread, share the news of my latest assignment with my housemate, and then collapse into bed without answering any of the questions that immediately poured out of her.
I had slept fitfully, visions of me as Crispy Cora floating through my head, but had managed to snatch a few hours of sleep before Dante came to remind me it was time to feed him. It was six o’clock in the morning, which meant that my housemate, Hannah, had been up for an hour already.
“He’s got the horns-and-tail thing, if that is what you want to know.”
Hannah set down the tea she’d prepared for me and took her usual seat across the table. Her chair was the same size as mine, but we’d placed pillows on it to raise the height a bit more, since her stature was quite small. She wasn’t the smallest fairy I’d ever met, but she was almost half my size.
Hannah and I had met when I’d first gotten my job; she had been getting pestered by an ogre, and I had to mediate before it turned into something bigger between the two species.
The ogre had eventually accepted Hannah wasn’t interested in him, and she had asked if I wanted to live with her.
She was fine being a fairy, she’d said, but she was growing tired of living among other fairies, which meant having to be cheery all the time and practicing her tinkling laughter.
Her natural laugh was more like a wheeze. I did my best to elicit it anytime the two of us were together.
At first, our sharing rooms was merely practical, but as time had passed, we’d found we both were anomalies among our species—at least, according to the general stereotypes. We were both independent, determined not to let anyone else decide our fates, and we both loved a good cup of tea. And Dante.
Friendships had been forged with much less.
We shared three rooms in a boardinghouse.
The other residents were a mix of human and supernatural, all working people, though our landlady insisted we present ourselves for a communal meal once a month.
It was nice to have a family of sorts; I’d grown up with just my parents, who were obviously human, so it was refreshing to have a few witches who doubled as aunts, some werewolves who felt like close cousins, and the odd vampire or two who were distant but helpful when asked (as long as it was at night).
“They want you to take the Devil around town?” Hannah asked, sounding nearly as skeptical as I felt.
Dante nudged my hand to remind me to keep petting him.
“Are you going to take him to a café for tea? Maybe to the bookshop so he can see everything that’s been written about him? ” Her tone was sardonic.
“Nothing like that,” I said. “At least, I hope not.” I thought about it for a moment. “I think I am here to smooth the way for him with whatever he wishes to do.”
Hannah’s eyes widened. They were already large, beautiful pools of silvery green, so the effect was startling. “Does that mean you’ll have to go with him to—to some of those private clubs?”
I froze. I knew about the clubs, of course, since they were whispered about by every human person I’d met after the Great Revelation.
Clubs where the various species could go to indulge their particular bents, whether it was a soundproof room for the shifters to go howl, or a literal blood bank where vampires could sate themselves, or clubs for more… personal pleasures.
I had to imagine the Devil would want to visit the latter establishment.
“Your face is bright red,” Hannah observed. “Perhaps you should ask Mrs. Collins to whip up a spell, one that’ll keep you from blushing.”
“I can’t chance the side effects.” Mrs. Collins, our landlady and the local witch apothecary, was skilled at developing certain potions but wasn’t always thorough when it came to investigating the possible additional changes that might occur when using said potion.
I had narrowly missed being turned into a horse when I’d asked her for something to help me walk faster.
Instead, I merely timed out my walk to work precisely so there would be no risk of my running late. I should have done that from the start, but I had to admit I was especially fatigued that day.
“It’s not the Devil himself I will be dealing with the most,” I said, taking a sip of tea. “He’s brought a whole group of creatures, including his son.” I felt myself blush harder at just mentioning his existence. Drat my pale skin. “He’s the Devil’s liaison while here in London.”
Hannah’s brows rose. “And what’s this one like? It’s a him?”
I nodded. “Yes.” I paused. “At least, he seems to be male.” I would not go peeking to check for myself.
Even the thought of it was enough to make my spine tingle.
“He’s as arrogant and bossy as you’d expect the Devil’s son to be.
I just have to make sure he’s taken care of for the next month, until the Exhibition opens. ”
“That long?” Hannah’s expression was dubious.
“Why? You don’t think I can?”
Hannah gave me a level look. “You are very organized and tidy, Cora, but you are not always patient. Especially when someone asks for something you think is a ridiculous request.”
“I just didn’t understand why you needed so much Saint-John’s-wort,” I said, with some heat.
She shrugged. “It keeps my kind away, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone.”
“Iron was right there!” I exclaimed. I shook my head.
“Never mind that, but I don’t think the Devil’s son will have any frivolous requests.
” If anything, he was likely to ask for things that would require some doing, especially for someone in a low position like mine within the government.
But Lord Hennawi had promised full cooperation, so I hoped I could supply everything before the satanic family was displeased.
Otherwise it’d be Cora on a stick, roasting over a hot fire.
I needed to make certain I would not be Hot Cora.
With that thought, I rose, slugging the last bit of my tea down with one hand while groping for my cane with the other. Dante leaped up as well and began to bark furiously, obviously thinking we were going for a walk.
“Not today,” I told him, and I could have sworn his tail drooped. I thought Dante was just a normal dog, but every so often I wondered if he, too, was part of some supernatural species.
That would be research for another time.
“I’ll be late—don’t wait up,” I said, waving goodbye to Hannah.
She worked at a local consignment shop, since fairies were good at perceiving counterfeit items, whether they were gold jewelry, paintings, or household silver.
She didn’t necessarily have to work—most fairies come from wealthy families, likely something to do with being the most reliable at curing various ailments and being so stunning in appearance they could always talk up their fees.
But Hannah wasn’t an ordinary fairy, and she liked to keep busy, not just fly around and look adorable. Though she did that, too, to be fair.
“Wait a moment.” She came toward me, a frown marring her lovely face. “You’re wearing that?”
I looked down at what I was wearing. It was a gown I wore regularly for work; it was an unobtrusive shade of gray, made of wool, and trimmed with a few grosgrain ribbons. “What is wrong with what I’m wearing?” I asked, sounding defensive.
She tilted her head in appraisal. “You want something that makes you look competent. Attractive but not too forthcoming. Something that says that you are more than capable of dealing with the Devil and his devilishly handsome demon spawn.” And then she winked.
“That gown makes you look like a fussy housekeeper.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think I own a gown with that many attributes. I don’t think a gown like that exists.” I paused. “And I think my job is similar to that of a fussy housekeeper, what with paying attention to detail and all of that, so I will take it as a compliment.”
She shrugged. “Just go change into that dark purple twill. It comes as close as you’ve got,” she said, ignoring my spirited rebuttal. “And it looks lovely with your hair—the gray just makes your hair look mousy.”
“I’ll bring this one to the shop today,” she said, nodding toward Dante.
“Fine, I’ll change,” I said grumpily, beginning to tromp back to my bedroom. I turned back to look at her, nodding to Dante. “Thank you,” I replied in a softer tone. “I owe you.”
“You do—figure out a way for me to see the son, since there must be something that made you react like that,” she said, gesturing to her cheeks.
“Um—”
She waved a hand. “Just try to stay calm. You’ll be fine.” She winked again. “And you’ll look lovely.”
I nodded, unconsciously stiffening my spine as I opened the door.
It was just a month. How hard could it be?
My answer came sooner, and more unpleasantly, than I expected.
I arrived at Clarence House just before ten o’clock. The butler I’d seen the day before was waiting in the foyer, an anxious expression on his face.
“Thank goodness you’re here, miss,” he said, taking my arm. “It seems the Devil doesn’t wake up so friendly.”
I doubted he was ever friendly—he was the Devil, after all—but I kept that observation to myself.
“What does he need?”
“His son, that Marcellus gentleman, he said his father was reading the paper and saw an advertisement for a church bazaar. And he’s taken it in his head to go, along with all of his—” The butler waggled his fingers in the air to describe the Devil’s entourage.
“A church bazaar?” I echoed, horror in my tone. Hannah hadn’t been so far off then, with imagining the Devil might like to head to a café or a bookshop. “Filled with parishioners and charitable ladies and tea cozies?” I paused. “And holy water?” My voice was up in an entirely other octave.
This was beyond a ridiculous request. So much for expecting the next month to be manageable.
The butler nodded. “Yes, and— Oh, here is the gentleman now,” he said, in a completely different tone of voice.
Lord Marcellus sauntered down the staircase, looking completely unruffled, not as though he’d just demanded that the literal Devil pay a visit to a church.
Perhaps next I could escort foxes into henhouses.
“Good morning,” he said, and I couldn’t help but react to his low voice. It really wasn’t fair that he was so good-looking. I would’ve wanted him to look a little more ogreish, like Hannah’s admirer, or perhaps have a few extra noses or something that would mar his perfection.
Instead, it was as though he were conjured from my thoughts as the Most Handsome Man Ever, from the ink-black hair to the lush mouth to the way his gaze held a dark promise that made me shiver.
No shivering, I reminded myself. Or you’ll be set ablaze. He’s a demon, I reminded myself. From Hell. Not Clapham, which was where the less gentlemanly men of my acquaintance had come from.
I adopted a cool, measured tone. “Does your father understand that attending such an event will necessitate he meet with the church deacon and his staff? I can imagine it might be quite…awkward,” I said. “For him, I mean,” I added.
I knew, of course, that the Devil did understand the scope of what he was asking for, and he was probably asking for it simply because of how much trouble it would cause.
But I couldn’t show my annoyance or trepidation to anyone, much less the man currently regarding me with his diffident gaze.
This was the whole lack-of-patience thing Hannah had been talking about.
I needed to remember to breathe and stay calm.
Lord Marcellus’s mouth curled into a knowing smile. Which did make me shiver but not in a good way. Instead, it felt as though someone had dropped an ice cube down my back, if the ice cube were this gentleman and my back were my life expectancy.
Or something like that.
“He is aware,” he replied. “But we were told the Queen would offer every comfort and convenience we required.”
He stood there, just smiling that ice cube smile, as I sorted it all out in my head. I withdrew a pad and pencil from my cane. “We’ll need to drain the holy water,” I muttered, scribbling notes. “And make sure there aren’t any harps lying around or anything.”
He waved a hand in dismissal. “We’ll be ready to go in an hour,” he said, turning toward the staircase.
I gasped, then smothered the sound. “Of course,” I called after him, sounding confident and assured. “I will meet you here.”
Images of the congregation bursting into flames, the Devil branded by some holy trinket or another, or just the shock of the populace at seeing that the Devil did indeed exist and might prove more powerful than our own sovereign churned in my head, but I pushed them all away.
What could possibly happen? I reasoned to myself.