Page 55 of Veiled Justice
We accepted our food and drink. ‘Hey,’ I asked the waitress before she could leave. ‘Do you know Alice Rose?’
She brightened. ‘Sure! She’s working a private party tonight. I amsojealous of the tips she’ll be getting!’ She sighed enviously.
‘Do you know why she was chosen in particular?’
She shrugged. ‘I think virtually everyone applied to do the job – the Carnforths pay well.’
‘Better than the Squiggins’?’ I pried.
She pressed her lips together. ‘I won’t speak ill of my employers. Do let me know if you need anything else!’ she said faux-brightly then stalked away to put an end to my questioning. Dammit: I hated being undercover.
I opened my can of Dr Pepper, took a slow sip and gave a happy sigh as the bubbly liquid slid down my throat.
‘I’m actually jealous of that can,’ Krieg murmured.
I heldhis gaze as I lifted the can to my lips again. There shouldn’t have been anything sexy about taking a sip of Dr P but somehow there was.
His eyes darkened. ‘You’re playing with fire, Wise.’
I was, and I knew it. Whatever was between us couldn’t – and wouldn’t – end well.
All the more reason to enjoy it whilst it lasted.
Chapter 30
Greed’s neon letters were glittering gold and it came as no surprise when we strolled into a casino offering everything from slot machines to blackjack and roulette. I could also see a mezzanine floor where I presumed only the high rollers were invited to play.
The most notable thing about the room was that the casino staff were short, wizened old men dressed in a mix of rich-red or deep-green coats, and all wearing golden hats. ‘Leprechauns,’ Krieg whispered.
‘I’ve never seen so many in one place.’
‘They’re solitary by nature. They must be getting paid a lot to work here in such numbers.’
We took a turn around the room and finally I spotted a familiar face: Volderiss’s vampyr, Ludwig. I decided to direct Krieg away from him; Ludwig seemed lovely but he was several selkies short of a twilight. I couldn’t trust his discretion and the last thing I needed was for him to greet me with a loud ‘Inspector!’ and blow my cover.
It was interesting that he was here and not at the Carnforths’ party. Verona had also been absent and I wondered if we’d also find her in the salacious halls of the Nocturne Circle.
I tugged Krieg out ofGreedand we entered the room markedSloth.The lights were dim and the room was entirely too warm for my taste. Once again the area was filled with beds but this time there were flickering candles, blankets and half-naked witches painting runes for relaxation and rest on the guests. Some of the witches were also giving massages. Of all of the rooms, this appealed the most so far – though the apple crumblehadbeen delicious.
Soft, tinkling music was playing in the background. I couldn’t identify any of the occupants because most of them were lying face down, but I definitely couldn’t see Verona’s ice-blonde hair.
Reluctantly – at least on my part – we leftSlothand headed intoWrath.The neon sign above the door was red and the colour didn’t stop there: the whole room was lit with low, threatening red lights. It was also roaring with sound – and it seemed we had stumbled into the magical equivalent of a fight club.
Instinctively my hackles rose and I was relieved when I saw one of the fighters being handed a wedge of cash as he walked out of the ring. This wasn’t a black-tourney situation where paranormals were forced to fight each other to the death, this was a gentrified version where the fighters came for the exhilaration of giving – or receiving – a few bruises and a bloody nose.
In another section there was a rage room with a shit-tonne of items to smash: crockery, pottery and a bunch of white goods. The weapons on offer were a baseball bat or a sledge hammer. No knives in sight.
Another contender entered the ring and Krieg gave a low growl. The new guy was an ogre; large tusks protruded from his forehead and he was wearing nothing more than a loin cloth. His right arm was three times the size of his left – and he was using it to drag a metal studded club.
‘Who?’ I murmured.
‘Einar,’ he said tightly.
Fuck. ‘The one dating Helga?’
‘Indeed. He’s supposed to be on a contract in Southampton,’ Krieg growled.
‘But he’s not in Southampton,’ I pointed out unnecessarily.
