Page 28 of The Dark Hiss of Magic
I should have known it was too much to ask. ‘Never mind.’
She grinned. ‘Hold your horses. If you give me thirty-six hours, I can find out what they’re currently focussing on. I have … ways and means. I wouldn’t be much of a secrets’ trader if I didn’t.’
From the delight on her face, Mallory obviously enjoyed her work. Good for her.
‘What would you require in return?’ I knew plenty of secrets but I’d taken a vow not to reveal any of the work I’d done for EEL; that vow was unbreakable, regardless of the circumstances. There were also limits as to how far I was prepared to go for Rory Taggert; after all, it was far too late to save him.
She tapped her mouth thoughtfully. ‘I sense that you know many valuable things that would equal the information you require from me, but I don’t think you’d be willing to part with any of that knowledge.’
I watched her warily. Squib or not, her instincts were spot on and I was starting to suspect that she was more capable than I’d first realised.
She swept her gaze up and down my body, then nodded. ‘A favour then,’ she said decisively. ‘One favour, twelve months’ limit. If I do not request the favour from you within the next year, you are absolved of your obligation.’
I appreciated the time limit but unspecified favours were dangerous:verydangerous. I sucked in a breath and considered. ‘I won’t physically harm anyone I care about.’
‘Interesting,’ Mallory murmured. ‘In most negotiations of this sort, people say that they won’t physically harmanyone.’
Oops: I’d already managed to give away more information than I’d intended with that little slip. ‘I can see that there might be circumstances when harm is unavoidable,’ I parried.
‘Indeed.’ She looked amused. ‘I accept those terms. I shall have a contract drawn up. I have an occasional assistant who will find you when it’s ready so you can sign on the dotted line.’
‘A blood contract?’
Mallory smirked. ‘Is there any other kind?’ She checked her watch. ‘Let’s meet here on Friday night and I’ll give you the information you need. Say eight o’clock?’
Alexander MacTire’s face flashed into my mind. I grimaced. ‘Actually, I have a dinner date then. How about seven o’clock instead?’
‘I already have an appointment. I’ll come and find you at the restaurant. I won’t take up much of your time.’
That would make my life easier. ‘Okay. I’ll be at Vallese.’
‘Vallese? My, my.’
‘It wasn’t my choice of venue.’
‘Now I’m even more intrigued,’ Mallory murmured.
I couldn’t begin to imagine what Alexander MacTire would make of Mallory but it didn’t matter; none of this was any of his business. ‘Until then,’ I said.
She raised a hand in farewell. ‘Adieu.’ She paused and her expression altered subtly. ‘Do give Thane my best.’ Then, before I could say anything else, Mallory melted away into the crowds.
Chapter
Eleven
Pork Pies café was busier than I’d expected, but I caught sight of Thane at one of the Formica-covered tables and headed straight for him. A small temporary stage had been set up in front of him, complete with a microphone and basic sound system.
There wasn’t any sign of Knox Thunderstick or the Blue Tattoos as I wended my way between the people who were waiting for the band to appear. Despite what the waiter had said last night, the group was surprisingly popular and at least two of the customers were sporting Blue Tattoos’ t-shirts.
Thane looked up as I approached and flashed a relieved grin as if he hadn’t been sure that I’d show up. ‘Hey.’
I pulled up a chair and sat next to him, leaning in slightly to catch a whiff of his vetiver scent. ‘How’s your head?’
‘Better than I deserve. You look tired, Kit.’ Then he winced. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to criticise. You look good. Just a bit…’
I raised my hands to forestall any further awkwardness. I wasn’t remotely offended; I did look tired and there was no point pretending otherwise. The last thing I needed was a false compliment.
‘I had a restless night but I’m fine. Truly.’ I eyed him as I wondered if he’d say anything about what had happened between us. ShouldIsay something? I frowned; I didn’t know how I felt, let alone what I should say. Kit McCafferty: trained killer, scared of nothing – apart from feelings. So much for being the Big Bad.
