Page 75 of The Mermaid's Bubble Lounge
Bracken waved away the question. “That was easy. I knew you were English. I heard your voice on our phone calls. Aside from the fact that you look English, you were the one to reach for Sam’s arm when she stepped forward to shake my hand. You didn’t stop her, but you worried about the safety of the doddering old fool who’d just thrown a spell at the pooka, which seemed like a supportive, loving husband sort of thing to do.”
He turned to Vlad. “And, I must admit, you look very much like your portrait. As I knew Sam was not married to the Voivode of Wallachia, I assumed I could rule you out as Clive.”
Vlad mustache twitched. “I haven’t heard that title in an age.”
“What does it mean?” I asked.
“Warlord of Wallachia, my home,” Vlad said.
“He was a great general of enormous forces, my dear,” Bracken told me. “In fact, if there’s time, I’d love to interview you.”
Vlad’s eyebrows went up. “I’ll think about it.”
“Fair enough,” Bracken said, turning back to me. “Perhaps we should go somewhere else to talk. The pooka could be listening and taking notes.” He patted his pockets again. “Before I forget.” He pulled a delicate chain out of his pocket. “This is for your fae friend. Arwyn made a talisman for her to ward off unwanted obsessive attention.”
He held the necklace up in the moonlight. Hanging from a thin silver chain was a tiny, but beautifully detailed, starfish. “She said this should help repel the stalkers. Can you give this to the young woman for her?”
I held out my hand. “Absolutely. Please tell Arwyn we said thank you. This will be life-altering for her.”
He nodded, placing it in my palm. “Good.”
I looked at Clive. Can we invite him to the nocturne?
“We were on our way to the local nocturne,” Clive told him. “You’re welcome to join us, but you will be entering a house filled with my kind.”
Bracken looked between the three of us, excitement glowing in his eyes. “Thank you for the invitation. I’d love that.”
“Perfect,” I said. “I’ll drive with Bracken and show him the way. Clive, can you call and let them know we’re coming?”
“I can take him,” Vlad said.
Both Clive and Vlad were tense, watching us.
“He’s my great-uncle. Relax.”
Bracken patted my arm. “They’re just worried. I’m an unknown and you don’t reach their advanced ages by trusting the unknown. You can just give me the address, or the Voivode can drive with me.”
Vlad’s mustache went up on one side. “You may call me Vlad.”
“Thank you, and I am Bracken Corey.”
“Perhaps we should hold the rest of the conversation until we’re behind warded doors,” Clive reminded us. “Sam, will you drive with me?”
I blew out a breath. “Okay, but he can clearly hold his own with the pooka.” I smiled at Bracken. “I’ll see you at the nocturne.”
When we turned, Bracken said, “Wait. Which car is yours?”
I pointed to the silver and green Mercedes-Maybach.
Bracken glanced at Clive. “I’ve never seen one in person.”
“Clive has quite a collection,” I told him.
“Little boys and their toys,” Vlad mumbled, making Clive shake his head.
Bracken went to the back of the car and held out his hands, his fingers twitching. He turned around a moment later. “No pooka stowaways. Drive safely, my dear.” He walked past Clive to where Vlad was standing. “If you’ll come with me, I’m parked out in front.”
Clive opened my door, and I got in. A moment later, he was sliding behind the wheel.
