Page 48 of Quiver of Cobras
Except innocents were always going to be in our plans because this was all about saving damned innocents. I couldn’t yell that down the shell at him, though; someone would hear me. ‘Fine,’ I snapped. ‘I’ll find them myself.’
I stuffed the shell unceremoniously under the mattress. If Morgan continued to talk, I couldn’t hear him.
I brushed the worst of the now fully dried mud off yesterday’s clothes and reflected that it was just as well I’d chosen leather. It seemed harder to wiggle into the tight trousers today than it had been yesterday but that was good; my arse would look even better than before if the taut material hugged it snugly. I did refrain from doing up the corset too tightly, though. I still had to have a decent breakfast and I didn’t want any extra flesh to pop out unless I planned for it to do so.
I combed out the worst of the tangles in my hair and hoisted it up into a tight bun. It gave me a stern look, halfway between boarding-school matron and sex-club dominatrix. I couldn’t ask for more. Today I meant business.
I headed out, stalking towards the kitchen and keeping my head raised to avoid eye contact – and chitter-chatter – with any passing faeries. The smell of cooking bacon hit me long before I hit the kitchen. Excellent: I really was starving.
Recognising the chef as the bouncer who’d been positioned in front of Rubus’s bedroom the previous day, I walked up and watched as he slid two perfect sunny-side eggs onto the plate next to the cooker. Beans, black pudding, three juicy sausages, crispy bacon and even a potato scone. Yum, yum, yum.
I picked up the plate and walked over to the table.
‘Hey! Thass mine!’ he bellowed.
I found a knife and fork and dug in. ‘Oh,’ I murmured, swallowing my first mouthful. ‘You should have said.’ I waggled my knife at him. ‘Next time tell me and I’ll make my own breakfast instead.’ I stretched across the table and pulled the ketchup towards me before liberally dousing the whole plate.
Rubus strolled in, a lazy smile written across his handsome face. He looked much better than he had the night before, with a healthier colour to his skin. He must have had a good night’s sleep. And why not? It wasn’t as if he’d had to fret over the fact that he was the one who’d consigned us all to this madness.
‘That bitch took my breakfast!’ the other faery snarled.
Rubus raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you seriously complaining to me about something so petty as bacon and eggs, Amellus?’
The way to an army was through its stomach. Rubus would have to realise that and do more to keep his troops in line, especially once the sphere was destroyed. Not that I cared. ‘Yeah,’ I said with a sneer, ‘are you?’
Amellus glared at me and turned back to the frying pan to start cooking again. Behind his back, Rubus shook his head at me, unimpressed by my actions. I shovelled as much of the food into my mouth as I could before he decided to take it away from me.
‘I thought,’ I said, as I chomped on beans, ‘that I might go out and try to sell some dust today. Carduus still has some, right?’
‘Not much,’ Rubus answered. He was watching me with an inscrutable expression. ‘But enough to hook in a few extra clients. Is there anyone you have in mind?’
‘When I was running around the city and trying to work out who I was,’ I said, hoping I wouldn’t have to name names, ‘I bumped into a few faeries who asked me for some dust. At the time, I didn’t know what they were talking about. Now I reckon they’d be a good place to start. They can probably lead me to other potential clients.’ I smiled. ‘Clients. That’s a nice word, isn’t it? It’s better than naïve fools, I suppose.’
Rubus didn’t appear amused. ‘Who are these faeries?’
Gasbudlikins. I’d have to throw a few Fey under the bus after all. Greater good, I reminded myself. It was easy to see how I’d fallen so deeply into this life before my amnesia incident.
I shrugged and did my best to look nonchalant. ‘Some faery woman who works at the library. And a guy who runs a hotel.’
‘Begonius,’ Rubus said instantly. ‘I thought you probably talked to him since that’s where I found you. And Paeonia, I assume.’
‘That might have been their names,’ I said unconvincingly.
Rubus rubbed his chin. ‘They’ve dabbled in dust before but not enough to become true addicts.’
‘Well, maybe I can change that.’ I met his gaze head-on. Trust me. Believe in me.
He waved a hand. ‘Very well,’ he said, as if it were of no real interest to him. ‘There is another name you might wish to throw into the mix.’
‘Who’s that?’ I asked, with a sudden feeling of trepidation.
‘A Fey called Vandrake. He used to be one of ours.’ Rubus scowled. ‘Then Morganus got involved. Vandrake’s been off dust for a while but he possessed certain talents which are … useful It would be good to have him back in the fold again.’
I winced internally. I’d actually met Vandrake – Morgan had taken me to meet him in a bid to educate me about the damages of pixie dust. Vandrake had been terrified of me – and even more petrified of becoming an addict again. I strongly suspected it wouldn’t take much to tip him back over the edge. Was I really callous enough to be the person to achieve that?
‘The more the merrier,’ I said to Rubus, hoping my expression didn’t betray my inner turmoil. ‘Where might I find him?’
‘Carduus has records of all our … clients. Past and present. When you pick up the pixie dust from him, make sure he gives you Vandrake’s address too.’
