The werecreature reluctantly stepped aside, clearing their way to the Auction of Curiosities and Exceptional Items.
15
A fae dressedin white hot pants, corset, and heels greeted them with a smile at the entrance to the left wing of Smithfield Market. “Welcome, buyers.”
Her bloodred hair matched her nail polish and lipstick, and while she didn’t physically look like your typical fae, she felt like it to Patrick’s magic. She stood beside a small table that held a stack of small leather-bound notepads and pens. She handed one of each to Lucien—who promptly passed them to Carmen—before gesturing at the crowded wing behind her.
“The auction begins in an hour. Until then, please browse the items up for sale. Not all are being displayed.”
Smithfield Market was filled with buyers from all walks of life that lived in the shadows of the preternatural world or skirted its edge. From what Patrick could see, people didn’t mingle so much as give each other wide berths. They stuck to their own groups—human, vampire, fae, magic users, and more—making small talk when they had to. Mostly, everyone browsed the items on offer for the auction.
The small alcoves that filled either side of the wing Rossiter had commandeered to display the auction catalogue usually showed off artwork and sold souvenirs during the day. Tonight, the individual metal security gates were nowhere to be seen. Each counter was draped in black velvet, with a single item of interest held up for prospective buyers to see behind magical shields. Buyers asked questions, making notes in the small leather-bound notebook they’d been issued.
Patrick wanted to go look for the Morrígan’s staff, but the second he took a half step away from Lucien’s Night Court, Einar grabbed him by the elbow with bruising fingers.
“Stay,” the tall vampire hissed at him in a low voice.
Patrick’s first instinct was to argue, but he bit his tongue against the urge. He had a role to play, and he had to remember that adoration of Lucien’s Night Court would get them further than murder.
They were at the auction for one item only, but Lucien made a show of being interested in every object they passed in their meandering walk through the market wing. A scimitar from the ninth century whose gold hilt was inlaid with jewels came with a metal tassel that connected to a thurible. The thurible had been added later, on a different continent according to the written out history pinned to the velvet drape. The small holes in the incense burner had been filled in to trap the djinn said to reside in its golden depths.
“Three wishes to its new owner,” the auction aide said with a wide smile, holding the scimitar in one hand and the thurible in the other. “Guaranteed wealth if you so desire.”
Carmen made a show of writing down the auction number of the scimitar, but nothing else that Patrick could see. He noticed more that wherever Lucien’s curiosity took them, the people nearby paid as much attention to Lucien as they did the items up for sale.
A cluster of Middle Eastern men in white robes and keffiyehs were having a rapid-fire conversation in Arabic in front of a display housing a shimmery Konrul egg, according to its auction history. Patrick didn’t speak Arabic, and what bits of the language he used to know while in the Mage Corps had fallen by the wayside.
The youngest man with a neatly trimmed, thick black beard peeled away from his group and approached Lucien. He looked to be in his midthirties, with brown eyes and a smile that wasn’t friendly.
“Lucien,” the man said, greeting the master vampire like an old friend. “I hear you have finally left the Gulf states for American cities.”
Lucien smiled, fangs pricking his lips. “Don’t believe all the rumors you hear in your country, Kalid. Half are spun by your subordinates, and we both know the lies you tell.”
Patrick didn’t get any hint of magic off Kalid, nor any hint of recognition beyond mundane human. He seemed to be exactly what he appeared as—a wealthy businessman looking to buy rare, collectible magical items. Though if he was on a first-name basis with Lucien, his business dealings were less aboveboard than his public persona indicated.
“What brings you to the auction?”
“What do you think?”
Kalid’s attention shifted to Carmen, gaze undressing her from head to toe. “I think Carmen still has expensive tastes.”
Carmen laughed throatily, the hint of sexual pheromones drifting away from her not enough to incapacitate. Patrick was just glad he had his shields up.
“Idohave expensive tastes,” Carmen purred, extending her hand to Kalid. “You still can’t afford me, but I do love that you try.”
Kalid took her hand in his and kissed the back of it, fingers caressing her wrist. “A man can hope.”
Carmen slid free of Lucien’s hold to kiss Kalid full on the mouth, putting on a show for everyone to see. Lucien let her, watching them both with shrewd black eyes. As dedicated as they were to each other and the business empire they kept building, Patrick knew Carmen needed to feed on more than just one undead vampire and some willing human servants.
“If you’re open to doing business afterwards, you know the avenues to reach us,” Carmen said after she broke the kiss.
Carmen went to cuddle up to Lucien again, who smirked at Kalid before walking away. The rest of the Night Court followed, with Patrick and Spencer ending up in the middle of a circle of vampires. Fatima had disappeared, probably scouting ahead. Playing their roles of human servants meant they were overlooked by the people in power walking the length of the market wing. It also meant they were restricted in where they could go, which wasn’t helpful.
“See anything you like?” Spencer asked innocently enough as they walked past another display.
The cursed gold necklace draped over velvet made Patrick pick up the pace a little. “Not yet.”
There were close to thirty objects up for sale tonight, but as they neared the end of the market wing and its many displays, Patrick had yet to get eyes on the Morrígan’s staff. He chewed his bottom lip, hoping the months of intelligence gathering that had brought them here hadn’t been wrong.
