The ogre’s expression was pained. ‘It’s complicated.’
Mallory knew she had him. ‘If I can uncomplicate matters and get your father to change his mind about the covenant, will you agree to let it go?’
‘You’re not going to do that. Nobody can.’
Mallory waited.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ he muttered. ‘Yes! I don’t give a shit about that stupid covenant. I like the Pitcairns and I’d help them if I could – but you don’t understand what my father is like. The witches can do away with the damned covenant for free if my father agrees, but he won’t. I guarantee he won’t.’
‘Can I have your word on that?’
Stone-arm laughed coldly. ‘It won’t do you any good.’
Mallory shrugged. ‘All the same.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Fine. You have my word.’ Then he stiffened; although his relationship with his father was strained,he clearly didn’t want anything bad to happen to him. ‘If you try to hurt him in any way…’
‘Please. I’m a squib,’ she reassured him. ‘I can no more hurt an ogre than I can fly.’
She curtsied and grinned. One down, one to go. That had been easier than she’d expected.
Chapter
Eighteen
Mallory smoothed down the front of her uniform and knocked on Old Man Stone-arm’s hotel-room door. ‘Housekeeping!’ she trilled.
The response from beyond the closed door was unequivocal. ‘Piss off!’
She winced then used the skeleton key George had given her to unlock the door and walked in, whistling.
Old Man Stone-arm and his son had the same dark eyes, the same arching, bushy eyebrows and the same overhanging forehead that was so typical of ogres. Although he was sitting down in a chair by the window with a copy of theColdstream Courierin his hands, Mallory could tell that he was also vertically-challenged. That must have been difficult for the Stone-arms, but it hadn’t stopped them from achieving success. Far from it.
‘What are you doing in here? I didn’t say you could come in!’ the old man spat.
‘You don’t want fresh towels?
‘No!’
‘Would you like me to empty your bins?’
‘No! Fuck off!’
‘Do you need the fridge replenished?’
‘How many times do I need to tell you to leave?’
She smiled professionally. ‘How about your bed, sir?’ She glanced at the perfectly smooth bedsheets and plumped-up pillows. ‘Shall I make it up for you?’
‘It’s made up, you stupid girl! Housekeeping has already been here today so I don’t know why…’ His voice faltered and he stared at her. ‘Who are you?’ he whispered. ‘You’re not housekeeping, are you?’
‘Nope,’ Mallory said cheerfully.
His skin paled as he put down the newspaper and rose from the chair. He might be elderly but the muscles on his arms and neck, not to mention the fire in his eyes, suggested he was still a long way from his grave. ‘You’re from EEL,’ he breathed.
It was interesting that his first assumption was that she was an assassin. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m not here to hurt you, Mr Stone-arm.’
He clearly didn’t believe her – and that was good. If he thought she was a highly trained killer, he might be less likely to attack her. Unfortunately, no sooner had that thought occurred to her than he lunged, grabbed her upper arms and squeezed hard.
