Cormac. “I’m not trying to domesticate you. Just … don’t you think you should get out more?”
“I’m okay. I’ve always been okay.” He almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
I said, “Ask Amelia if she’d like to meet a couple of were-jaguars from Brazil.”
The train clacked on the rails as we waited for Cormac’s response. His lips were pursed, like he’d eaten something sour.
Finally he said, “Amelia thinks it would be interesting to meet a pair of were-jaguars.”
“So you’re coming?” I said, bouncing.
He didn’t say yes, he didn’t say no, but he stopped trying to weasel out of the evening.
Chapter 11
LUIS PICKED the restaurant. Feeling some trepidation, I wondered what trendy/sexy place he’d chosen, and if he would hire a guitarist or violinist or an entire mariachi band to serenade and embarrass me, or have roses delivered, as if any of his come-ons were more than teasing. He wasn’t so crass to carry it so far. I wasn’t so crass as to let him.
In fact, he’d invited us to a steakhouse, naturally. Simply decorated in a clean modern style, black chairs and white tablecloths, it was filled with the familiar and comforting scents of blood and cooking meat.
“This Luis of yours has class,” Ben said at the restaurant’s entrance.
“You sound surprised,” I said.
“I really didn’t know what to expect.”
“Now are you willing to admit that my taste in men might actually be pretty good?” I looked at him.
“Well, it used to be anyway,” he said, putting his arm around my waist.
Cormac didn’t have commentary to add. He kept looking around like he expected something to jump out at him.
At the bar near the front door sat the two young women from the conference who’d asked for my autograph. The ones who confused Emma and me by their apparent lack of presence. They waved at me, still giggling and excited. I smiled politely, trying to get some kind of sense or feel for them and what they were. The food and alcohol smells of the restaurant might have been interfering with my nose.
“You know them?” Cormac finally asked.
“I ran into them at the conference. It’s just … I couldn’t get a scent off them.” I wrinkled my nose.
“They’re Fae, you know.”
“What?” I said, then lowered my voice. “Like Elijah Smith? Like Underhill and Puck and crap?” I tried not to stare, but the young women were looking right at us, and their grins seemed … conspiratorial. Not at all cute anymore.
Elijah Smith had advertised himself as a faith healer with the ability to cure lycanthropy and vampirism. What he really did was enslave said lycanthropes and vampires and feed on their powers. He’d been a different kind of otherworldly than I’d ever encountered—fairy, according to the experts. Old-school, ancient stories, nothing cute about him.
We were in England, of course there’d be fairies. I should have known.
Cormac handed me an object—one of the charms from Amelia’s box. An iron nail bent in the shape of a cross, with a dried-out spring of something bound to it with twine. A four-leaf clover? When I closed my hand around it, I had to squint and tilt my head, because a haze filtered my vision, like I’d suddenly entered a TV dream sequence. The two women glowed, carrying their own special effects. Also, I could finally smell them—fresh-cut clover, which clashed strangely with the cooking meat smell in the rest of the place.
I might have stared at them all night if Cormac hadn’t taken the charm out of my hand and nudged me. I blinked again, and the haze vanished, noises rushed back, and everything was as it should be.
“You okay?” Ben asked.
I must have looked like I’d gone to another world for a moment. In a sense maybe I had. “It’s just … what are they
Cormac shrugged. “For the conference, like everyone else?”
“Kitty!” Luis called, waving from across the restaurant’s main room. He and his sister sat at a table in a prime spot with a view of the room and through the window to the street outside. The kind of spot a lycanthrope would pick, to be able to watch the surroundings.
We went to join them, and I looked over my shoulder at the two women—the two Fae. They had gotten up and were leaving, without a backward glance. Maybe Cormac was right, and they were here to enjoy themselves like everyone else. Their not being human shouldn’t have been anything to get excited about. Plenty of people at the conference weren’t entirely human.
Luis stood and leaned in to kiss my cheek before I could duck, though the gesture seemed cosmopolitan and harmless, even with the dark look Ben gave me. He and Luis didn’t shake hands. Neither did he and Cormac. The two regarded each other warily.
Luis presented his companion. “This is my sister, Esperanza.”
She was short and fiery, with a round face and a spark in her gaze. I recognized the family resemblance in those eyes. She wore jeans and a beaded tunic shirt, and her long dark hair lay braided over one shoulder. She smelled of jaguar, like Luis.
We made all the introductions, shuffled a bit around the table, jockeying for seats as Ben pointedly insinuated himself between me and Luis, which meant I ended up sitting next to Esperanza. Ben may have wanted to make sure I wasn’t sitting next to the charming jaguar, but it meant I was across from him, and he winked at me, dark eyes flashing. Oh dear. I had suddenly forgotten how to flirt. Cormac ended up stuck at the end of the table, probably by design. He could watch us all, and the rest of the restaurant. He’d probably go the whole evening without saying a word.
“So you’re the wolf with the big bad mouth,” Esperanza said in a quick voice with a lilting accent. I liked her already.
“That’s me. I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” I said, and we both looked at Luis.
“I said you’d get along well because you’re both crusaders.”
“What’s your crusade?” Ben asked her.
“Loggers think half the jungles in Brazil are haunted, because of me. They can’t get anyone to work in some sections.” She smiled with pride.
“Any of them sue you yet?”
She glared. “What are you, a lawyer?”
“Yes, actually.”
“Don’t you dare give anyone that idea,” she said, pointing.
He held up his hands. “Never.”
“What do you do for a living?” Esperanza looked at Cormac.
He hesitated a moment before saying, “I’m a consultant.”
“In what area?” Luis asked.
He twitched a smile. “Usually when nobody knows what the hell is going on, they call me.”
“So can you explain British politics to the rest of us?” Esperanza asked.
“I have limits,” he said.
We ordered a bottle of wine; Luis and his sister argued over labels. We ordered food—all of us wanted steaks, rare as the chef would make them, and the server looked at us funny but didn’t say anything. I wondered how many lycanthropes from the conference had eaten here this week. The evening progressed nicely after that as we discussed the conference and whether or not we thought it was accomplishing anything, the protests, and the state of public recognition and acceptance of the supernatural in our respective countries. Regarding the conference, the jury was still out—while it was nice that everyone was getting together and talking with relatively little fur flying, so to speak, we’d have to wait until it was over to see what came out of it. The protests bothered us all but we were relieved that no actual violence had come of it, so far. Recognition of the supernatural—that was a stickier question.
