Twenty-six minutes after leaving Pavel, we were at the library door, damp-haired and with matching dazed, fucked-out expressions, but our fingers were entwined as I rapped on the door, and I felt invincible.
33
LUC
Baxter didn’t lookup from the laptop in front of her, clicking away intently, while Dalziel gave us a brief nod, motioned to two chairs, and returned his attention to the screen. He was leaning over Baxter’s shoulder, hands grasping the back of her chair, his body language suggesting the long familiarity the pair of them had already hinted at. If Baxter was telling the truth, she’d been born in the 1800s, so she was younger than Dalziel by maybe a century, but still more his contemporary than mine. On an academic level, I knew Dalziel wasn’t even particularly old for a vamp, but knowing about immortals, and seeing the evidence of them in front of you were two very separate things.
I fervently hoped nobody seriously considered Charley to be at risk of immortality. I’d made him a promise, and I wouldn’t break it if it was within my power to keep it, but the idea ofalwayswas sobering. How did anyone cope without going insane? Maybe not many of them did. It would explain the low number of truly ancient vampires. Perhaps after half a dozen centuries, you were begging to be staked or tied to a pillar to await the sunrise.
“Penny for ’em, treacle?” My head shot up, focusing on Baxter’s light brown eyes. She grinned crookedly at me. “You looked awful serious just then. Don’t tell me you’re regretting your acting debut already? Be a terrible shame, what with your assets being so photogenic and all.”
“You what?” I said, my mind going blank.
Dalziel coughed lightly. “The, er, video footage, is excellent quality. Baxter is muddying it a little to match the security camera output at Ritzy’s.” He looked incredibly uncomfortable.
Charley glared across the polished wood at his father. “Are you staring at my boyfriend’s dick?”
Dalziel’s “God, no!” was eclipsed by Baxter waving a conciliatory hand in his direction. “Not on purpose, darling, but it’s quite hard to miss.” Her emphasis on the wordhardwas impossible to miss. I felt my cheeks burst into flames at the same time Charley shot to his feet. Hands braced on the antique table top, he leaned across it, his fangs descended, and he hissed at the two vampires opposite.
“Donotspeak that way about my partner! I don’t give a flying fuck if he’s a wolf, a demon or a goddamned pixie, you will show him some fucking respect. Do. You. Understand?”
The temperature in the room instantly plummeted by ten degrees. I stared at Charley, whose eyes suddenly seemed to burn blue fire, then around the room. Goosebumps prickled my skin, my limbs felt heavy, and the air itself seemed to shimmer. Baxter sat frozen at the keyboard, her mouth hanging open. Dalziel was similarly stock-still, just a flicker from his wary eyes. As I watched, the antique decanters on the side table iced over, as though Jack Frost himself had done an invisible fly-by, and small puffs of vapour appeared as I exhaled. I knew, somehow, that I wasn’t affected by whatever Charley was doing, but I couldn’t bring myself to move either. My fingers started to pick up the chill from the table.
Dalziel was the first to recover. “That was…impressive, Charley,” he intoned carefully. “Would you mind taking a seat please? We owe you both an apology.”
The icy tang in the air disappeared as soon as Dalziel got Charley’s attention. The decanters began to drip, and there remained a slightly metallic, flowery taste in the room, but it was faint. Charley dropped back into his chair, and glanced at me. His eyes were wide, and alarmed.The fuck did I do?they asked me. I shook my head a fraction, and steeled myself to reach for his hand — the hand of my quite simplyterrifyingboyfriend.
Baxter made to edge her chair away from the table, but Dalziel stopped her. One of his hands moved to comfort her. “It would seem our attempt at levity in a potentially awkward situation was misguided,” he voiced in the same cautious tone. “There was never any wish to embarrass either of you. Charley, Lucien, I am truly very sorry for any discomfort or disrespect.” I saw his fingers tighten on Baxter’s shoulder. She jerked her head vigorously.
“Gods no. Absolutely no offence meant at all. Really sorry, Charley, Luc.” She gave me the faintest nervous smile. “Or do you prefer Mr Bradshaw?” Yep, she was shitting herself.
Keeping a straight face, I managed to reply, “Luc is fine. Unless Charley has any objections.”
Charley still had his fangs out. I was changing my mind about them. They were still lethal bloodsucking devices, but on him they were sex personified. He looked at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” I cleared my throat. “I didn’t know you could do magic.”
His eyes were going to fall out of their sockets if they widened any more. “Ummm…” he offered, his gaze pinballing between the three of us. “What d’ya mean, magic? I can’t do magic!” His voice rose at the end, and I caught a whiff of panic in his scent.
“Charley, babe, try and calm down.” It wouldn’t be long before pure unadulterated fear was leaching from my pores too, but I needed to at least try to keep a lid on my terror. Christ, and I’d thought his vamp blood was the biggest of my problems with the sexy bit of tail I’d offered a lift to. The realisation his Fae heritage was coming through loud and clear had my balls disappearing inside my body, and my heart clanging out a distress call they’d be able to hear on the moon.
“Would it be okay to request a stronger drink than tea?” I said into the protracted silence.
Dalziel sprang up to ring a bell by the fireplace. “Pavel will be here shortly.” He pulled a bottle of Highland Park from a lacquered cabinet, along with a crystal tumbler, and passed them to me. “Help yourself, Lucien.” He edged closer to Charley, and took a chair equidistant between him and Baxter. He sighed, and elbowed the table, dropping his head into his hands. “Charley, I really think we need to try and trace your mother. Not only was that magic, it was rather more potent than I’d have put money on your being capable of.”
Pavel, having evidently taken quick measure of the room, disappeared and returned speedily, with large glasses of blood for the other three, and a selection of cakes and pastries which he placed by my glass. He made a peculiar half bow to me. “Something for the adrenaline burn-through, sir?” His bow to Charley was borderline reverent. “Some blueberries for you, young master?” He placed a delicate bowl in front of him.
Charley blinked at him. “How the hell did you know I fancied blueberries?”
Pavel’s usually static expression softened a fraction. “The Fae as a rule take any opportunity to enjoy them. They take delight in all berries, but these are their favourite. I figured it prudent to nourish both sides of you at this precise moment.”
We mumbled our thanks, and tucked in. The whisky slid down my throat, and I poured a second large glass, sobriety be buggered. My priorities had shifted, and vampires no longer seemed the threat they had been. I stuffed some kind of iced cinnamon bun between my lips and chewed frantically. If Dalziel was wary, fuck knows what sort of powers Charley had.
Pavel returned again, this time bringing me a pot of tea, and clearing away any empty glasses. Charley was motionless, staring at a single drop of blood clinging to the lip of his glass, and started when Pavel coughed politely to get his attention.
“Oh, sorry, Pavel. I was miles away.” He handed him the empty glass. Then he looked around and frowned. “Dalziel, why am I suddenly drinking so much blood?”
Dalziel lifted his gaze and considered his son. “You ever have a long day and get home, kick off your shoes, and make a pot of tea?” He eyed the teapot in front of me.
