He left the room, whistling cheerfully, everyone trying not to stare at Eleanor who had gone quite pink.
Dalziel, who was fighting a smile, addressed the Fae king next.
“Volik, your people have offered to be available at short notice to offer magical assistance if required. We are very grateful for this. It will be helpful if you can offer Eleanor a variety of ways in which we might be able to reach you quickly. I appreciate living in a different realm means communication can be…tricky.”
Gethin noted how everyone around the table kept admirable poker faces at Dalziel’s tactful way of demanding contact.
Volik inclined his head. “That we can do. Although not in the way you possibly expect.” He glanced at his queen. “We shall take our leave of you within the hour. Isher will remain.”
Dalziel’s expressive eyebrows once again hiked northwards. “For the purpose of a more easy liaison with your good selves?” His tone suggested he was wary. From the identical expression on Justin’s face, he was too.
Neele waved an airy hand. “Charley has much to learn about his heritage. His magic is currently negligible, which is only forgivable for so long. He is of royal blood and requires tutelage. Isher is a surprisingly good teacher, and very patient. He will be no trouble.”
Charley gasped. Luc, whose eyes went round with shock, squeezed his boyfriend’s hand so hard it had to hurt. Charley wisely took the hint, his gaze flipping wide-eyed and silently between the various Fae and his father.
Dalziel’s jaw worked. Tension in him warred with a wash of calm that Gethin could feel coming hastily from Alec and Edwin, the latter having the constipated look of a vampire worried his sire was about to go postal.
Finally, when even the laid-back Susan Langridge had begun to look concerned, Dalziel gave a clipped nod, before addressing the quiet Fae, who appeared dismayed to be the centre of attention. “Isher Merryhill, it will be my honour to welcome you to my household as a…” He stumbled, seemingly at a loss for words. “As an extended guest. We shall discuss the details of your stay a little later, if that is acceptable.” It wasn’t a question.
Isher’s creamy skin bloomed the palest rose, but he managed to stutter, “I will be delighted to instruct your son in the ways of our magic, Mr Millar.”
“Another thing.” Volik’s imperious tone cut in. “We need to discuss Malin.”
Charley’s eyes grew even wider, but somehow he managed to stay silent. Dalziel, however, did not.
“Absolutelynot.” He caught and held Volik’s gaze, unwavering. “This is not the time.”
An electrified charge crackled in the room. Volik looked thunderous, Neele stunned. A quick emotional read of the others present suggested Dalziel would be opening the best champagne as soon as the Fae king and his queen departed. The Fae were beautiful, talented, and handy in a fight, but not universally liked.
Volik exhaled, and the air in front of him sparkled with frost. But he could hardly insist when Dalziel had unequivocally shut him down.
“Understood,” he conceded finally. “We shall take our leave of you. Isher knows how to contact us if the need should arise.” He tossed his pastel mane of hair and appeared to get himself under control. “We will come if we are summoned, in deference to the fastest resolution to the vampire Sorley’s predicament.” He rose gracefully and took his wife’s hand. “Woodley,” he acknowledged Justin. “Until we meet again.” His eyes narrowed. “Millar, I presume you will wish to escort us off the premises.”
Dalziel extended his hand to the pair, indicating they should precede him from the room. “Do you require Pavel for anything?” When Volik responded in the negative, he managed to smile without baring his fangs. “It will be my pleasure to accompany you to your transport. Will you be leaving by the same means as you arrived?”
When the door closed behind the three, Charley let out a strangled moan. “Fuck me,” he mumbled from the safety of Luc’s jumper. “They’re a laugh a minute, aren’t they?”
Then he sat bolt upright and chewed his bottom lip as he looked anxiously at Isher. “Shit, Isher, I’m sorry. Are they like, related to you or something? I have such a big mouth sometimes. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Isher waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry, Charley. I have a thick skin.” He looked thoughtful. “Perhaps you would like some more blueberry mousse? I know Pavel made a very large amount. We could ring for some..?”
“Coffee break,” Eleanor said briskly. “We should wait for Dalziel’s return before concluding the meeting.” She linked arms with Clancy Weatherfield, offering to call her a taxi to take the tiny witch to the nearest railway station, and insisting that Pavel would not find it an imposition to throw together a packed lunch for her travels. Gethin felt hopeful about the possibility of cake to augment their drink break. He sidled over to Sorley and took the seat Neele had vacated. “Well that was dramatic.”
* * *
On Dalziel’s return,he went straight to Charley and gathered him into a hug.
“Well done,” he exclaimed, his smile for once broad and warm. “I know you don’t find it easy to keep quiet.” One arm still slung across Charley’s shoulders, his smile darkened. “How fuckingdarethat man!” He glanced quickly around the room and spotted Isher lurking by a potted plant. “Merryhill?”
The Fae looked up. “Sir?”
“I hope this won’t make things awkward between us. You naturally have a loyalty to your king, plus you’ve just been stranded here with a bunch of complete strangers. I hope you can see past being so comprehensively railroaded, and that we can start afresh.”
Isher had begun walking towards Dalziel as the vampire started speaking. Gethin couldn’t read any fear off him as he stood cradling a glass of some sparkling liquid, but he did seem cautious.
“Mr Millar, my king means well but he does have a somewhat over-inflated ego.” He shot Charley a quick smile. “As for being stranded, it is I who should apologise, for the covert nature of my arrival. I confess, I suspected Volik had his reasons for bringing me along. I too hope we can put that behind us and forge a working environment that is mutually beneficial.”
Dalziel quirked an eyebrow. “Pretty words, Mr Merryhill.”
