her shoulders, shaking her head.
I rubbed the back of my neck, still uneasy. What was Lacy Louis doing here? That ‘friend’ story was a load of crap. The Earl turning up full of concern, that was believable; he was probably running media interference ... except that there were no reporters hanging round to scribble down his well-thought-out off-the-cuff remarks.
And that led me straight on to another question: why weren’t there any journalists about? You’d think they were an extinct species, going by the lack of news coverage outside Old Scotland Yard. The only hack in evidence was Alan himself - who was now listening intently to the Earl - and he didn’t count.
‘Such a terrible time.’ The Earl’s tone was warm, solicitous, with just the tiniest whisper of vamp mesma to boost the feelings. ‘And I understand you have dispensed with Westman’s services.’
At the mention of his name, Westman shuffled closer to them. He didn’t look in any fit state to offer advice - and he also appeared more interested in Neil Banner and his goblin than in his erstwhile client.
I narrowed my eyes, frowning. Why had the Earl brought him along?
The goblin twisted his bat in his palm, his head swinging like a metronome from side to side, trying to keep both vampires in range.
I was still frowning when I realised the Earl was moving my way.
‘It is wonderful to meet you at last, Ms Taylor.’ He smiled and held out one pale manicured hand.
I tried not to tense as I shook his hand. His palm was warm and dry and felt exactly as a hand should. But that was it. There was no annoying throb in my neck. No desire to spill my blood at his feet. The apprehension in my gut went down a notch. The G-Zav was doing its thing.
‘I have heard such delightful things about you.’ He gave me a benign look from under his flop of blond hair. ‘I feel as if I already know you, so I shall call you Genevieve.’
I beamed at him. He could call me what he liked, so long as he didn’t think I was going to call him Master.
‘You really are extraordinarily beautiful, my dear.’ He reached out, traced a butterfly touch along my jaw. I wanted to brush his hand away, but gritted my teeth instead. ‘A delicate, yet eminently strong bone structure.’ His blue eyes lit with manly appreciation ... only something told me it was more because he thought I expected it than because he actually meant it. ‘You have a dancer’s figure: slender, muscled, but ultimately feminine. You would look wonderful cast in bronze. I have quite an extensive collection of Degas.’ He patted my hand and leaned towards me. ‘I would be honoured if you would view it some time.’
I gave a surprised laugh, tugging my hand from his. Were we talking euphemisms? ‘I’m not sure bronzes are my thing, but thanks anyway.’ Then I frowned. Why were the DI and Hugh still holding their staring contest with Lacy Louis?
‘Perhaps you could enlighten my curiosity then, Genevieve.’ He adjusted his cuffs carefully. ‘Admirable as your offer to help dear Roberto is, I do find it a little strange, given your usual avoidance of the vampire community.’ He gave me a conspiratorial smile. ‘How exactly did you make his acquaintance? ’
‘Through Roberto’s father, Alan Hinkley,’ I said.
‘How interesting.’ His words came with a push of mesma to tell him more. It buzzed round me like an irritating fly. I mentally waved it away and looked over at Alan.
Had Alan repeated that cryptic comment about Siobhan to the Earl? Not that it mattered; Alan didn’t know anything else. Now he was talking to Banner, looking anxious. In contrast, Banner was ignoring both Alan and Jeremiah the goblin, gazing past them at Westman like he’d found the last chocolate in the box. And wasn’t he lucky? It was only his favourite .
Westman stared back, his expression mirroring Banner’s. Damn. Westman had hit him with a mind-lock, and not the careful, controlled mind-lock the
I rubbed the back of my neck, still uneasy. What was Lacy Louis doing here? That ‘friend’ story was a load of crap. The Earl turning up full of concern, that was believable; he was probably running media interference ... except that there were no reporters hanging round to scribble down his well-thought-out off-the-cuff remarks.
And that led me straight on to another question: why weren’t there any journalists about? You’d think they were an extinct species, going by the lack of news coverage outside Old Scotland Yard. The only hack in evidence was Alan himself - who was now listening intently to the Earl - and he didn’t count.
‘Such a terrible time.’ The Earl’s tone was warm, solicitous, with just the tiniest whisper of vamp mesma to boost the feelings. ‘And I understand you have dispensed with Westman’s services.’
At the mention of his name, Westman shuffled closer to them. He didn’t look in any fit state to offer advice - and he also appeared more interested in Neil Banner and his goblin than in his erstwhile client.
I narrowed my eyes, frowning. Why had the Earl brought him along?
The goblin twisted his bat in his palm, his head swinging like a metronome from side to side, trying to keep both vampires in range.
I was still frowning when I realised the Earl was moving my way.
‘It is wonderful to meet you at last, Ms Taylor.’ He smiled and held out one pale manicured hand.
I tried not to tense as I shook his hand. His palm was warm and dry and felt exactly as a hand should. But that was it. There was no annoying throb in my neck. No desire to spill my blood at his feet. The apprehension in my gut went down a notch. The G-Zav was doing its thing.
‘I have heard such delightful things about you.’ He gave me a benign look from under his flop of blond hair. ‘I feel as if I already know you, so I shall call you Genevieve.’
I beamed at him. He could call me what he liked, so long as he didn’t think I was going to call him Master.
‘You really are extraordinarily beautiful, my dear.’ He reached out, traced a butterfly touch along my jaw. I wanted to brush his hand away, but gritted my teeth instead. ‘A delicate, yet eminently strong bone structure.’ His blue eyes lit with manly appreciation ... only something told me it was more because he thought I expected it than because he actually meant it. ‘You have a dancer’s figure: slender, muscled, but ultimately feminine. You would look wonderful cast in bronze. I have quite an extensive collection of Degas.’ He patted my hand and leaned towards me. ‘I would be honoured if you would view it some time.’
I gave a surprised laugh, tugging my hand from his. Were we talking euphemisms? ‘I’m not sure bronzes are my thing, but thanks anyway.’ Then I frowned. Why were the DI and Hugh still holding their staring contest with Lacy Louis?
‘Perhaps you could enlighten my curiosity then, Genevieve.’ He adjusted his cuffs carefully. ‘Admirable as your offer to help dear Roberto is, I do find it a little strange, given your usual avoidance of the vampire community.’ He gave me a conspiratorial smile. ‘How exactly did you make his acquaintance? ’
‘Through Roberto’s father, Alan Hinkley,’ I said.
‘How interesting.’ His words came with a push of mesma to tell him more. It buzzed round me like an irritating fly. I mentally waved it away and looked over at Alan.
Had Alan repeated that cryptic comment about Siobhan to the Earl? Not that it mattered; Alan didn’t know anything else. Now he was talking to Banner, looking anxious. In contrast, Banner was ignoring both Alan and Jeremiah the goblin, gazing past them at Westman like he’d found the last chocolate in the box. And wasn’t he lucky? It was only his favourite .
Westman stared back, his expression mirroring Banner’s. Damn. Westman had hit him with a mind-lock, and not the careful, controlled mind-lock the
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