“Actually, I’m setting you up to try and coax your beau home to the Paris Hotel where he belongs.” Quindici spoke soberly now. And there it was: one of Quindici’s classic manipulations made plain. Sitting back with a frown, Layla regarded him frankly. She hated being manipulated, but Quinn was a master of the art and often used it in surprisingly subtle ways. It was one of the reasons Layla hadn’t trusted him when they’d first met, though he’d proven himself a friend over time. But his dark aura was always there beneath his shiny, perfectly-styled exterior. Quinn was a Master Vampire with a brutal side that didn’t care about right or wrong, simply results.
Mostly, he played on the side of the good guys.
Mostly.
“Quinn,” Layla spoke. “If Reginald is still navigating the intense politics of his clan and needs to be up there right now, who am I to try and drag him back?”
“You are his Bound lover,” Quindici gestured elegantly, though his dark eyes were still crafty, “and you are also a Hotel Owner and Interim Head of this establishment. I would think it in the interest of all three of your positions that you would wish to have Reginald return here to Paris. Besides, the inventor in question is family to him and he could introduce you. Leni is a rather brilliant Siren woman working on deep-water sonar technologies to map active underwater volcanoes in Siren homelands, and pods of killer whales.”
“Why is she studying killer whales?” Layla frowned, curious. “I mean, mapping underwater volcanoes that would threaten Sirens is one thing, but whales?”
“Killer whales didn’t just get their name from attacking seals,” the Vampire smiled knowingly. “They are one of a Siren’s few natural enemies. An orca’s bite is toxic to Sirens, and they will gather in pods of hundreds to savage a Siren to death in cold waters, especially if that Siren is young or elderly.”
“Animal planet, Twilight-style.” Layla shook her head, marveling at the strangeness of the Twilight Realm, like always. “The things I learn here never cease to surprise me.”
“I could tell you much about animals that have adapted to magic in clever ways,” Quindici chuckled, “but Reginald is a modern animal and needs to know that we miss him here at the Paris Hotel. Could you not go up to Deep Harbor and speak to him from your heart? We could solve much for the Hotel, and for you personally, by convincing him to return here.”
“Reginald’s life is Reginald’s business, Quinn.” Layla spoke, re-crossing her arms and staring the Vampire down. “Like Dusk, he has a lot of shit that’s come up since our Bind – especially after he shifted into his Siren-Dragon for the first time saving me in Manarola, then killed his brother Bastien protecting me. He’s facing his past, trying to deal with it now rather than run away. Who am I to interrupt that?”
“Your care for him is admirable,” Quindici continued smoothly, “but it would strike two Dragons with one lance to meet Leni for Adrian and also spend time with Reginald, just to test the waters and see when he may consider returning. I’ve called him, but all I get is stonewalling. His father the Siren King Léviathan Durant does not like Reginald’s involvement in the Hotel. And I fear his father’s opinion is affecting Reginald as he attempts to place himself back in his father’s good graces after so much time away.”
“Why does Reginald’s father not like the Hotel?” Layla frowned, curious.
“Sirens are proud creatures,” Quindici eyed Layla frankly. “They will take Ownership in the Hotel to profit from it, but will never become employees. Most view becoming a Courtier or Courtesan as no better than prostitution. They’ll use their beauty and mind-snaring magic to seduce prey, entice enemies, and even bring down entire Lineages. But the life of a Hotel Courtier or Courtesan is seen as…filthy.”
“Filthy?” Layla cocked her head.
“Bastien Durant was not the only one in Reginald’s family who looked down on Reginald’s decision to come here when he needed amnesty from the Intercessoria for drowning a village of Blood Dragons in his youth.” Quindici spoke with a wry smile. “But it was even worse when Reginald decided to become a Courtier. His father the Siren King very nearly disowned him. It was only when Reginald began sending home incredible amounts of his newly-earned money that Léviathan Durant took pause. And then turned a blind eye to what his youngest son was doing… except for spending Reginald’s money whenever it came rolling in.”
Layla blinked hard, seeing a whole new picture to Reginald’s family life that she’d never heard. “Wow. That’s shitty.”
“You have no idea.” Quindici spoke mildly, but Layla saw a vicious depth in his onyx eyes now. “When Reginald came to me at the Florence Hotel to study the darker arts of pleasure, it was because he hated himself, and his family’s berating wasn’t helping. But he loved being a Courtier; he loved the power and opulence and games of dominance. He came to me to try and reconcile those sides of himself, warring deep within. Though we made headway which helped him grow into the Courtier he is today, I don’t think he ever really began to unite himself until he met you. Which is why you should go up and see him. At the very least, it would give you both some much-needed time together. And get us some information that might locate Hunter.”
Quindici’s request was certainly reasonable. Yet as Layla stared him down, she felt there was still some further manipulation she just couldn’t fathom beneath his onyx eyes. As his nimbus of Vampiric energy curled around the office, creeping up her gilded desk, Layla knew he wasn’t swaying her with his Vampire mind-powers. Quindici was simply imploring her with his ever-astute reasoning as to the myriad reasons she should go to Deep Harbor and visit the Sirens.
“What’s in this for you?” Layla asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
“Money. Prestige. Accomplishment.” The Vampire answered without flinching. “I am a motivated creature, Layla, and right now I am motivated to return Reginald to the Paris Hotel. His presence here not only makes us unique, as very few Hotels can boast a Siren on staff, but it improves my reputation for the Italian Hotels I manage. In addition, Reginald was once my protégé… and I believe prolonged exposure to his family isn’t healthy for him.”
“You have a soft spot for him.” Layla realized – finally seeing what it was that Quinn was manipulating her into. “You want Reginald to return to the Paris Hotel simply because you like having him around, don’t you? You like working with him, being around him… every day.”
“I was his Partner at the Florence Hotel for over fifty years,” Quindici replied calmly, though his gaze was vastly deep now that Layla had found him out. “Take the intimacy you developed with him in the past months and multiply that by quite a lot, Layla. Reginald and I have a complicated past, but yes, I deeply enjoy his company. He is a winning creature when he’s not brooding. To have his smile turned upon you, hisrealsmile… is a light indeed. And I miss it. As do you.”
Sitting back, Layla watched Quindici and knew he was telling the truth. Though she could still feel there was a lot he wasn’t saying, Layla knew that feeling he spoke about around Reginald. Her Royal Siren was incredible, a force of nature when he walked the halls of the Hotel with his impeccable grace and vicious ire. But more than that, he was astonishing when he let that cold haughtiness drop and showed his tender side. Reginald was amazing when he smiled – like sunlight sparkling upon a high-north ocean. Even as Layla thought about it, she felt him smile through their Bind, beautiful and soft.
Just a quirk of his full, sensual lips before he was gone.
“Reginald’s been stonewalling me since Yule,” Layla spoke at last, returning to the moment. “He’s not showing me anything of Deep Harbor through our Bind. It makes me feel like he doesn’t want me to know anything about his clan-home, or what he’s doing there.”
“There’s a reason for that.” Quindici spoke directly. “Sirens have Mesmeric magic like Vampires, and more dominant Sirens can break into minds. Reginald is protecting you from feeling any of his kin snooping into your mind. Or worse.”
Layla cocked her head as she frowned suddenly, wondering if she’d be in danger if she went up to Reginald’s clan-home. But before she could ask Quinn, the gilded clock upon the fireplace mantle chimed five-thirty. Layla had set it to alert her so she could make it to yoga class with Rake André and her friend Rikyava Andersen in the evenings. As she rose, Quindici rose also, knowing her routine. With a calm smile, he said, “Think on everything tonight, let me know your decision soon. I need to pour over the statistics for our speakeasies for another hour, then I’m having dinner with the Madame. If you’d like to join us, we’ll be up in her rooms on the fourth floor.”
“Thanks. I might.” Layla spoke, giving a genuine smile now. Quindici was thoughtful, always offering Layla opportunities to wine and dine with upper-level Hotel people so she could get to know them. “I have to get going. Rikyava will be pissed if I miss yoga.”
“Of course.” With an elegant gesture, Quindici motioned Layla to the cabinet in her office where she stored her gear. “One thing a man must never do, is keep a woman with a sword waiting.”
It was Quindici’s way of joking, deviant and sexual, and Layla snorted a laugh as she slung her yoga bag and mat over her shoulder. With a nod to Quinn, she headed for the door that led out to the Administration Wing. With quiet poise, Quinn headed for the door between their offices, his black aura curling through the room after him. But at the last moment, Layla felt it reach out, stroking her hand. It wasn’t like Quinn to touch her with his magic, not since Yule when he’d given her a brief kiss in his office before her Courtesan’s Debut.
