Page 62 of The Dark Hiss of Magic
‘It’s also been extinct for the last two thousand years,’ he added.
She winked. ‘Supposedly. Although perhaps “dormant” would be a better word. Whatever, it’s priceless. If it existed today, Preternaturals would kill not just for its power but for the money a tiny silphium cutting could potentially command.’
‘Kill for it?’ I asked through gritted teeth.
‘Oh yes, I’m quite certain,’ Mallory said. ‘Rivers of blood would run through the streets of Coldstream if somebody possessed silphium.’ She took another sip of the wine and leaned back in MacTire’s chair. ‘This really is an exquisite merlot.’
I only stared.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
The silence would have continued far longer if not for Alexander MacTire. He crossed his arms and gazed down at Mallory. ‘That’s my wine.’
She drained his glass. ‘Did you choose it? It’s delicious!’
That clearly wasn’t the response he’d been expecting. ‘That’s also my chair.’
‘Oh.’ Her messy curls shivered as she looked around for another one. ‘You’d think an upmarket place like this could afford more seating.’ She caught the nearest waiter’s eye and gestured for help. He looked at MacTire for approval.
The werewolf alpha frowned. ‘Five more minutes,’ I said to him. ‘I want to find out more about this silphium stuff.’
Mallory glanced between MacTire and me. ‘Oh no!’ She clamped a hand to her mouth. ‘Are you on a date? Have I gatecrashed? I’m so sorry. I’d hate to interrupt a budding romance.’
MacTire nodded at the waiter to bring a third chair. ‘On that count you’re safe.’
‘Ah.’ Mallory nodded wisely. ‘Your hunt continues, then.’
‘What do you mean?’ he growled.
‘Your search for the perfect mate. You’ve not found her yet.’
His eyes narrowed and I hastily raised my hands. ‘Don’t look at me – I didn’t tell Mallory I was having dinner with you. She had no idea who I’d be here with. In fact I’ve never mentioned you to her.’
She was oblivious to his scowl. ‘Kit is right,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I figured it out all by myself. Go me!’
The waiter arrived with the chair and MacTire sat down, unappeased. ‘And whoareyou?’
‘Mallory Nash,’ she said. ‘And you are Alexander MacTire.’ She raised her empty glass towards the waiter. ‘Could we get another bottle here?’
When the waiter looked at MacTire again, he nodded reluctantly. I smirked; this was more fun than I could have imagined, though from Alexander MacTire’s expression he didn’t seem to agree. I jumped in to explain. ‘Mallory is a broker,’ I said. ‘Of sorts.’
‘Secrets and favours,’ she added. ‘Not stocks and shares.’
‘I asked her to find out what the witches’ council is worried about this week in return for an as-yet unspecified favour.’
MacTire’s eyes flicked to me. ‘Risky.’
‘There are caveats as to what Kit will do for me in return,’ Mallory assured him. ‘There are always caveats.’
As he leaned back and gazed at her, it was difficult to tell whether he was fascinated or horrified. Perhaps both. ‘How do you know about me?’ he asked. His voice was low and silky but it held an edge of danger. Alexander MacTire was alpha of one of the most powerful werewolf packs in Coldstream for a reason; he wasn’t a cuddly puppy, he was a predator. I hoped Mallory realised that.
Oblivious, she went on. ‘Let’s say that a potential client came to me not too long ago and asked for a favour – she notonly wanted you to notice her but also consider her seriously for the position of First Mate. I’m only telling you because I declined the opportunity for reasons we won’t go into.’
She looked at me. ‘My real clients’ business is sacrosanct and I’m not in the habit of gossiping. I won’t go blabbing about your request to anyone, Kit.’ I believed her.
MacTire wasn’t mollified. ‘Who?’ he demanded. ‘Who asked you to do this?’
