Even The Vampires Get The Blues

about nine inches tall, apparently of a bird of prey. 'Looks like a hawk or falcon or some raptor like that.'

'Ooooh. Is it gold?' he asked, his voice hushed as if he was in the presence of something awe- inspiring.

I turned the statue around, flipping it over to look at the bottom. 'I don't think so. I think it's brass.'

'How can you tell?' he asked. 'It looks like gold to me.'

'One word.' I pointed at the letters on the bottom of the statue. 'Last I heard, Taiwan wasn't knocking off gold bird statues.'

'Why would someone go to the trouble of having a demon deliver a non-gold Taiwanese statue?' Jake asked, looking as confused as I felt.

'That is the question, isn't it?' I gave the bird statue another quick once-over, then put it back in the box and strapped the lid on with some packing tape. 'Maybe if I knew that, I'd know who it was meant for. Thanks for your help, Jake. And for the referral. I appreciate you spreading the word about our agency.'

'What are you going to do with the statue?' he asked, waving away my thanks as he walked me to the door.

'You said it's not evil or anything, so…' I shrugged, pulling my jacket close against the chilly, damp May air. 'I'll put it in a safe place until after this job is over, and then try to track down the person it was intended for. Thanks again. And stop frowning—my mother always says a frown is what brings the rain.'

'That's because your mother's frowns literally do,' he answered, yelling after me as I hurried off toward the bus stop a few streets away. 'Be careful, Sam. The statue may not be made of gold, but it clearly has some value if a demon was engaged to deliver it. Whoever it was intended for may not take kindly to you possessing it.'

I waved to let him know I heard, then made my way back to the office, stopping off at the store occupying the floor below to leave off the shoebox with Mila, sex shop diva, landlady extraordinaire, and more importantly, possessor of a huge black safe that squatted in the corner of her small office.

'I'm back,' I called to Clare as I trotted upstairs to our office. 'Did you get a list of antique dealers? Did you find out anything about that book? Why are the shades drawn? You would not believe the guy I saw in one of those long dusters that are so sexy on men. He was browsing through the condoms at the back of Mila's shop, and wow, talk about slobber city! Tall, dark, and handso—oh. Hello.'

'Good afternoon.' A man wearing a long leather coat and holding a black fedora loomed into view. For a fraction of a second my mouth hung open. Even though the room was dark, the lights on the desk illuminated him enough to see one hell of a specimen of man—short curly black hair, liquid silver eyes that glowed brightly in the dark room, and shoulders that seemed to go on forever. On the other side of the office, Clare quickly stuffed a tulip petal in her mouth, her eyes huge as she looked back and forth between the man and me. 'You are the Diviner Samantha Cosse?'

'I'm Sam, yes,' I said, skating around the non-applicable Diviner label. 'Can I help you?'

'I hope so. My brother—he's the tall, dark and handsome one downstairs condom shopping—referred you to me as someone who might locate a missing object for me.'

I sent Clare a woohoo, two-cases-in-one-day look, but she was too busy gawking at the man to catch it. Clearly, though, something was up to have her so flustered. 'I see. Well, Mr… er…'

'My name is Paen Scott.'

'Pain? As in… pain?'

'Paen. It's a medieval name, one that runs in my family. My mother liked it.'

'It's… unique. Won't you have a seat at my desk, Mr. Scott?' I sidled over, grabbed Clare's arm, and hustled her toward the door. 'I just need a quick word with my partner. I'll be right back to take down all the details of your missing item.'

'You're leaving him alone in there?' Clare whispered as I opened the door to the hallway.

I glanced back inside. The man stood next to the client chair in front of my desk, his hat in his hands, a dark, vibrant figure that seemed to catch my gaze and hold it.

'He is something, isn't he?' I whispered back, pushing Clare through the doorway to the hall beyond. 'I know he's a potential client and all, but hoo! The guy downstairs was nice-looking, but this man is drop-dead gorgeous.'

Clare stared at me as if a second head had magically sprouted on my shoulders. She popped another bit of tulip in her mouth and chewed quickly. 'You think he's… handsome?'

She said the word like it was made up of maggots. Rotten maggots. 'Well, of course I do. I'd have to be dead not to notice. What's wrong with you? Why are you so wonked out?'

She stared at me again. 'Don't you know what he is?'

'A client?' I asked, suddenly concerned. Clare liked men. Men worshipped Clare. For her to be in the presence of a devastatingly handsome man and not be responding with her typical flirtatious manner was very unusual.

'No. Yes, I mean, he is a client, but he's also…' Her voice trailed away as she waved the remains of the tulip around.

'What? Gay? Married? A homicidal maniac?'

'Vampire,' she whispered, her eyes getting even bigger as she looked over my shoulder. A little shiver washed down my spine.

'We prefer the term Dark One, actually,' a voice behind me said. I spun around to face the man. He had been right behind me, which meant I was now all but pressed up against him. Up close, he was even more handsome than standing across the room, the blunt line of his jaw and those bright silver eyes making my breath catch in my throat. 'Moravian Dark One is the technical name, to be exact. If you are finished with your conference, perhaps we could get to my missing statue?'

'Statue?' I asked stupidly, wondering if it was wrong to be so instantly and wholly attracted to a man, especially when that man was a… vampire? Good lord, it was almost dinnertime. What if he was peckish?

A Diviner with a sense of humor. How amusing.

I blinked a couple of times (like that was going to do me any good). 'I'm sorry, I'm clearly a bit out of it… Did she say vampire? You're a real vampire? A Dracula-type vampire?'

'I am a Dark One, yes. Is that going to be a problem to a working relationship?' Paen asked, his voice deep, with a lovely Scottish accent that seemed to roll right through me. I shivered and rubbed my arms, wondering about my reaction to him.

'Well… I don't know,' I said, thinking furiously. 'I've never worked with a vam—er… Dark One before. I've never even seen one. To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure that you guys existed.'

'Really?' His silver eyes roamed over my face, finally touching on my ears. Without a thought, my left hand went to my ear for a moment. 'And yet I would have guessed from your facial structure and eyes that you have some Fae blood in you.'

'Something like that. My mother is an elf.'

'Ah,' he said, glancing at my nearest ear again.

I rubbed it self-consciously. 'I had them bobbed when I was twelve. It was a coming-of-age present. I can't do anything about the tilt of my eyes, though.'

'Don't. They are lovely as they are. Do I take it that your immortal heritage means you have no issues with taking my case and performing as many divinations as will be necessary to help me?'

I pulled myself together. Paen was a man, a potential client. His preferred choice of food was no business of mine, so long as I wasn't on the receiving end of those fangs.

A shame. I can think of so many places I would like to nibble.

'I'm only half elf, and not immortal, but yes, absolutely I will take your case. I have no issues whatsoever. Although, regarding the divinations…' I bit my lip, hesitating, ignoring my inner voice to worry over something that could become an issue. He seemed to want a Diviner to do the job for him. Clearly he didn't know that I wasn't fully qualified to conduct divinations.

'Is there a problem?' Paen asked, interrupting my uncomfortable thoughts.

If I told him I wasn't a Diviner, would he take his business elsewhere? How unethical was it for me to take a job under false pretences?

'Miss Cosse?'