Okay. ‘How long will it last?’
‘Not telling.’
Mallory inhaled. ‘Is there anything youcantell me?’
The nymph considered. ‘Sure.’
Mallory waited; when nothing more was forthcoming, she prompted, ‘What, then?’
‘I can tell you that there ain’t no ogres here.’ For the first time, the nymph flashed a smile, then started to close the door again.
Mallory wedged her foot between the door and the frame, forcing the nymph to keep it open. Although she preferred carrots to sticks, she’d play hardball if she had to. ‘I’m not done yet.’
‘Move your foot,’ the nymph muttered.
‘No.’
‘Move your foot!’
‘No.’ Mallory steeled herself and went for it. ‘I know you’re a water nymph,’ she called through the gap.
‘Wow,’ came the sarcastic rejoinder. ‘Ain’t you the clever one?’
‘I also know that water nymphs are forbidden from working for other Preternaturals until the vernal equinox – you’re allsupposed to be focused on Jacob’s Well. Unless the ogres also have a vested interest in that particular patch of water, then…’
She didn’t have to finish her sentence. The nymph opened the door wide and glowered. ‘I’m broke, alright? I need the money. That’s not a crime. It’s only a few bloody hours here and there. We can’t all afford to sit and stare at a damned ancient water spring for weeks on end because of some daft ancient tradition.’
‘I’m not judging you.’
The nymph’s lip curled. ‘But youareblackmailing me.’
‘Yeah.’ Mallory nodded sadly. ‘I am. I’m sorry. It makes me feel very grubby and I’m not trying to make your life difficult, but I need you to answer a few simple questions. That’s all.’
‘For fuck’s sake.’ The nymph crossed her arms. ‘Alright, already. The AGM is taking place at the Belladonna Hotel. It’s on until next Wednesday.’
That was a long AGM: the ogres really did love a meeting. ‘Thank you.’
The nymph huffed.
‘One more thing…’
The blue-skinned woman bared her teeth. ‘What?’
‘What’s the deal with the Association of Ogres and the Pitcairn coven?’
‘That’s why you’re here? Those bloody witches?’
Mallory waited. The nymph laughed. ‘They want their silly covenant rescinded but the ogres here won’t do that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because of Old Man Stone-Arm.’ She paused. ‘Not the current boss but his father. He hates people and he’s a petty wanker who takes pride in making life as difficult as possible because he’s a grumpy old bastard. His son humours him because it’s easier that way. No-one really cares about thosewitches or that covenant, they just want to keep Old Man Stone-Arm happy.’
Mallory beamed. Fabulous: ornery, petty bastards were her speciality. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘That’s it?’ The nymph glared at her as if she’d been blackmailed into giving away her firstborn.
‘That’s it. Have a good—’ Mallory didn’t get to finish the sentence because the nymph had already slammed the door in her face.
