‘Eavesdropping circuit,’ said she, flashing a glamorous smile at a passing rakshasa. ‘Were you really jealous?’
‘Of the dress?’ I cast a fleeting glance at Cellann’s gown. ‘No. Not my style.’
‘You lied to an impressionable youngster? Deplorable.’
‘I will lie to that impressionable youngster all night if it will keep her from turning up face-down in the river.’
‘Or Mearil, either.’
‘Right. If someone’s luring girls like her to Eventide, I’m not leaving until we find out who it is. By the by, if you’re heading for Rudy with intent, you’re on the wrong track. I know him. He’s okay.’
‘Rudy?’
‘The sluagh I suspect you’re trying to eavesdrop on. He’s the type of dangerous-looking that wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘Rudy? Really?’
I grinned. ‘Full name’s Rudlund Mathis. He’s the drummer with Tormented Wraith.’
‘Tormented. Wraith.’
‘Death metal.’
Fionn’s look might best be described as indecipherable, with a side of appalled. ‘On which topic. Why power metal, Tai?’
‘Because it makes me feel powerful, Fi. Why else.’
‘Like you ever needed help there.’
‘I might also have been a bit angry about a few things.’
‘Farewell Fatales.’
‘Exactly.’
‘If you’re finished being angry,’ Fionn said, letting this pass, ‘You’ve the voice to do anything you want.’
‘Which I can’t take much actual credit for, but that aside, what I want to do is power metal.’
‘I see.’
‘And I do it very well, for your information.’
She inclined her head. ‘Pheriko and Orandine aren’t bad either.’
‘And you know the names of my bandmates how exactly?’
‘Same way you’re able to recognise my gowns at a glance, I expect.’
‘I love them,’ I said, not referring to the gowns. ‘But they’re no substitute.’
‘Were they supposed to be?’
I had to think about that one for a second. ‘How much honesty do you want?’
‘All of it.’
‘Then yes.’
She nodded.
‘If you were Daix,’ I went on, ‘you’d have something acidic to say about people who try to replace their best friends instead of mending fences with them.’
‘Let’s all be thankful that I am not Daix.’
‘But—’
She elbowed me. ‘Hush. I do believe Rudy’s coming over.’
He was, too. He’d been trying to catch my eye for a few minutes, an effort I had steadily resisted, but the man was persistent. He approached with that manly, rolling-the-shoulders walk he likes to affect, grinning what was doubtless supposed to be a knee-weakening grin. ‘It’s my favourite Fatale,’ he said.
‘Hi, Rudy,’ I said, suppressing an urge to roll my eyes. ‘Have you met Fionn?’
He did her the honour of a slow looking-over, which Fionn bore with her usual grace. ‘Ma’am,’ he said at last.
‘Ma’am?’ I echoed. ‘Since when are you so polite?’
‘I’m scrupulously polite to anyone I haven’t seen roaring drunk.’ He had the cheek to wink at me.
‘Drunk, hm?’ said Fionn, raising a brow.
‘Rudy’s going to go away now, and take story-time away with him.’ I directed at Rudy a mega-watt smile, liberally laced with venom.
He chuckled. ‘But seriously, Tai, I didn’t know you were an Eventide girl.’
‘One of my better achievements, clearly.’
‘Ma’am. Permit me to provide you with a drink.’ He actually bowed.
‘Perfect,’ I said. ‘I’m all out of love potion. But, Rudy, before you do that, tell me something. Do you come here a lot?’
His eyebrows climbed into his hair.
‘It’s not a pick-up line,’ I said, suppressing an urge to kick him with my delightfully pointy-toed shoes. ‘Real question.’
‘Uh, I suppose?’ he said, looking from me to Fionn in confusion. ‘Once a week, sometimes more.’
‘Okay. So. Have you noticed anyone unusual hanging around here of late?’
He turned his head, and looked straight at Cellann, who was still sitting alone. ‘You mean like her?’
‘Like her, and whoever the hell is getting people like her in here.’
‘I didn’t think you cared about stuff like that.’
‘Rudy, I’m not asking because I’ve turned into a giant snob overnight. It’s important.’
Fionn spoke up. She never raises her voice, but somehow she’s always heard. ‘Tai’s roommate is missing,’ she said. ‘And we fear she may have met somebody here who had something to do with it.’
My turn to raise an eyebrow at Fi. She gave me that eye-flick that functions as a dismissive shrug.
Fine, if we were going to do honesty and hope for the best…
‘Fi’s also short a couple of models from her shows,’ I said. ‘One of them’s dead. And that innocent little girl right there is exactly the type.’
Rudy’s gaze sharpened, all traces of humour vanishing from his face. ‘Selkie they pulled out of the river. That’s what you’re talking about?’
‘You heard about that?’
‘Everyone’s heard about it.’ Rudy was looking dead serious now, which is unusual for him, for all his death metal glory. ‘Tai, you want to be careful who you’re asking about that.’
‘I’m not running around asking people questions at random, if that’s what you mean.’
‘So you had some bullet-proof reason to think I couldn’t possibly be involved?’
I folded my arms. ‘Haven’t seen anything about you that might suggest you’re a crazed killer.’
‘What does that matter?’
He did have a point.
Too bad. ‘Got to take risks sometimes, Rudy. We can’t make progress on this case if we’re too cautious to actually investigate.’
He shrugged. ‘You’ve got that siren voice going for you, I suppose. Might get you out of a tight spot.’
It might indeed; had, in fact, on many occasions. I don’t use it lightly. I mean, there’s singing, which I will cheerfully do all day, and then there’s siren-singing, which is different. If you’re caught off guard by a siren song, you’ll do anything. Anything at all. And you may or may not remember it afterwards. It’s sort of like drunkenness that way, only without the long lead-up of knocking back shots.
Some people like that about a girl.
Some don’t so much.
It really depends on how much the siren happens to like you.
Anyway. Unlike Coronis, Rudy either hadn’t heard the old stories about the fatales, or he hadn’t made the connections between those same old stories and the name I’d somewhat unwisely chosen for my band. He thought I might get hurt.
Sweet, really.
I lifted my hands and showed him my diamond-studded knuckles. ‘I’ll be fine, Rudy.’
‘And your friend?’ He looked again at Fionn, who certainly appeared delicate with her silk-clad slenderness and bejewelled elegance. All lady-like and dainty.
‘Pray you never catch Fi with a couple of knives in her hands,’ I said.
Rudy’s brows went up. ‘There’s a story somewhere behind that.’
‘There is, and we’re not getting into it,’ I said, Fionn having opted merely to return Rudy’s gaze with an amused expression.
‘Pity,’ said Rudy, and grinned. At Fi.
‘Right, when you’re done flirting with my friends, feel free to go back to your life,’ I said. ‘And if you hear anything else, Rudy, let me know.’
He tugged his forelock at me, the cheeky grin I was more used to restored to his face. ‘We’ll do that drink,’ he said, ‘but maybe another time.’ Back he went to his table.
‘Interesting,’ said Fionn.
‘You two can hook up lat
er, but for now, focus,’ I said. ‘Unless I miss my guess, our baby model there is expecting imminent company.’ Cellann had lost the increasingly listless look she had worn for the past half-hour or so, as time went by and nobody came for her. Now she was sitting bolt upright, eagerly scanning the new arrivals as they came in. What had led her to believe her rendezvous was imminent I couldn’t say.
We couldn’t stand there and openly watch; Rudy’s warning might have annoyed me, but he wasn’t wrong. Fi and I strolled over to the bar to pick up fresh drinks, then wandered back to our table. By the time I felt at leisure to cast another covert glance at Cellann, she had company.
Female company.
‘That’s… unexpected,’ I said.
‘Why?’ murmured Fionn, taking a sip of champagne cocktail.
‘I mean, I know women can be assholes, too. But Tanna definitely implied Melly had been meeting a man.’
‘They don’t have to be the same person,’ Fionn pointed out. ‘We probably are dealing with a gang. Anyway, Tanna never actually said Melly’s date was male. We don’t know that Melly herself ever said that.’
‘Good points all.’ I paused to be certain, for Cellann’s date was wearing heavy make-up, and she’d had a change of hair-colour and style since the last time I had seen her. But… no, it had to be the same person. ‘I know her,’ I said.
Fionn looked at me.
‘You know her, too,’ I said. ‘She used to frequent this place about a century ago, back when it was still Blue Havens.’
Fionn sat up a bit. ‘Red hair back then?’
‘Red hair, green gowns, never seen without a cigarette holder in hand.’
‘Brianne Lamarre.’
‘That’s it.’ She’d ditched the smoking affectation, swapped her red hair for what I suspected was her natural green, and she was wearing a gown of the sumptuous gold Fionn favoured. But that wide, catlike smile was all Brianne, as was the air of calculated sensuality with which she was dazzling poor Cellann.
Brianne is a morgan. In shorthand terms, picture a cross between Fionn and me and you wouldn’t be too far off. They live undersea; they’ve a taste for jewels and finery to give Fionn a run for her money; they’ve all the seductive beauty of the selkie but with something of the mesmerising voice of a siren.
That makes Brianne Lamarre as dangerous as Fionn and I put together — and Daix, too, for I never knew this lady to possess much in the way of moral fibre.
She’s among the few who could out-fatale all three of us. Despite all this — or, hell, because of it — she was a friend, once. I’d suspected her of all kinds of shady dealings at one time or another, but by accident or design, her path and ours had never really crossed in the business way of things.
I’d liked her, even if we’d never been close. She had qualities I could respect. As with so many things, I’d lost touch with her since the Fatales had broken apart; it came as a jolt to see her sitting in Eventide, so different, and so much the same. Like a piece of the past had suddenly come to life, and wandered in to say hello.
Regardless. However dazzling she may be, she’s still a shark. A naïve girl like Cellann of Indra-Tath is far out of her depth with Brianne Lamarre.
‘So that’s a problem,’ I said after a while.
Fionn had developed a stony look. ‘You were right,’ she said. ‘We are going to need Daix.’
‘Hell, yes.’
Fionn finished up her drink, and pushed back her chair. ‘Well, then.’
‘Right,’ I said, rising from my chair. ‘No further point in caution.’ If we remembered Brianne, she’d remember us, too. She might not be showing any sign of it now, but she’d have seen us the moment she walked in, and it was of no use hoping she’d think we were just catching up.
Time for the more direct approach.
Chapter Nine: Fionn
There was a time when I held Brianne Lamarre in high esteem.
She has class, no doubt about that. She also has conversation, wit and humour, and a personal style I admire. She’s exactly the type of person I’d want for a friend, in short, were it not for the incidental fact that she has no morals whatsoever.
We found that out a long time ago.
I haven’t seen or heard from her for many years. Presumably she went back to that undersea palace she’s so proud of, and has contented herself with draining (and drowning) an occasional mortal ever since.
Her turning up at Eventide tonight of all nights might be a coincidence, but her making a beeline straight for Cellann’s table could not be.
I smiled as I strolled up to join them. ‘Ah, have we discovered the identity of the secret gown donor? How generous of you, Brianne. But you always did have excellent taste.’
‘As do you, love,’ she said, casting my attire a look of decided approval. ‘Naturally I couldn’t think of patronising anybody else.’
Cellann appeared flustered, as well she might. Brianne was stunning, her sleek, jade-green hair coiffed in sculpted waves, her mouth a perfect crimson pout. Eyes to drown in; a calculated effect. But it’s more the glamour of her that seduces people. She has an enviable magnetism, an effortless confidence and poise that cannot help but cast others into her shadow.
Most others, anyway.
‘Did you really send me this gown?’ Cellann was saying, pink with pleasure. ‘How, how can I thank you—’
Tai took a seat, and propped her splendidly heeled feet upon another chair. The lounging, casual pose was deceptive; I knew she was anything but unthreatening. Brianne probably knew it, too. ‘One rule to remember in life, Cellann,’ she said. ‘Never say thank you until you understand the angle.’
Cellann blinked at her.
‘Ulterior motive,’ Tai elaborated. ‘Why would someone you’ve barely met make you an expensive present, do you think?’ She smiled at Brianne. ‘What is the angle, Bri?’
‘Ah, and sweet Tai,’ answered Brianne, her slow smile containing more actual warmth than I’d expected to see. ‘Charming to see you lovelies together again. Shall we be expecting the wonderful Daix de Montfort as well?’ She glanced around the club. ‘Perhaps she’s here already. I hope she wouldn’t think it necessary to avoid me.’
‘Games afoot, Bri?’ said Tai.
‘Just contributing my mite to the deserving, sweetheart.’
‘Been doing a lot of that, have you?’
‘Generosity is a virtue, in case nobody’s told you.’
‘I thought I’d already called bullshit on that.’
‘How cynical of you.’
‘The product of long experience.’
‘Let us be clear,’ I interjected. ‘I have taken an interest in this deserving soul myself. I’d like her for my next show, and it would be a great pity were anybody to interfere with that.’
Brianne’s smile faded. ‘It would be a great pity, would it not? To lose one model might be considered misfortune. To lose two — or, we may say, three — looks more like carelessness, doesn’t it?’
Curse the woman for quoting Wilde even as she needled me. ‘I won’t lose three,’ I said calmly.
‘Let us hope not, hm? For this charming young person’s sake.’ She turned her feline smile on Cellann again as she rose from her chair. ‘Any problems, darling, call me,’ she said, and left without another word to Tai or to me.
‘Three,’ murmured Tai.
‘Yes,’ I said. If Rudy was right, everyone knew about Narasel’s demise; it wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine that word of her profession, and her connection to me, might have got about also.
But Brianne had heavily implied she knew about Melly, too.
We lingered at Eventide for a few hours more, to minimal effect. If any other rendezvous had been planned for the night, our presence had probably put paid to that. We had warned Brianne we were paying attention, which had ruined all possibility of further covert observations — at least for one day — but I hoped that it would be enough to protect Cellann.
That
Brianne was involved somehow seemed beyond question; I couldn’t see how else she could be aware of Melly’s disappearance otherwise. But what was she? Was this her scheme, or was she merely acting as bait?
Either way, what was it for? Cellann’s precise heritage still eluded me, but I was fairly sure she was half selkie, if not more. Most modelling agencies have at least a couple of selkies on their books, whether they know it or not. The inherent beauty that makes our skins so widely desired can also serve us well, in certain professions.
It begged a number of questions, though. What would Brianne, of all people, want with either selkies or their sealskins? Why would she lend herself to such a scheme?
‘Bitch is slippery,’ muttered Tai as we left Eventide at last, disappointed of our hope of discerning anything useful about Brianne’s actions. She had lingered hour after hour, charming her way through various of the club’s patrons, and ostensibly ignoring the both of us. She’d drunk a lot, danced a lot and laughed a lot, and nothing else that she’d done had given us the least clue as to what she might be up to.
‘I don’t like her involvement, either,’ I agreed, drawing my gauzy wrap closer about my shoulders. The night was moonless and dark, and the midnight air held a dank chill to it. ‘It makes no sense.’ From what I remember of Brianne’s tastes, while she’s certainly capable of predatory and deadly behaviour she tends to prefer the human male. Selkie girls like Cellann, no.
‘If she knows where Mea is…’ Tai left the sentence unfinished, but I knew where she was going with the idea. The consequences were likely to involve a certain set of diamond-knuckled fists applied, repeatedly, to Brianne’s smiling face.
I hope I get to be present when that day comes.
‘I’d like to have her tailed,’ I said. ‘But I don’t have those resources anymore. I haven’t had to think about shadowing anybody in years.’
‘Nor I,’ said Tai. ‘But Daix hasn’t been nearly so lax.’ She was already calling Daix, her phone casting an eerie glow over her face in the darkness.
I stepped closer, and tilted my head toward’s Tai’s to hear the conversation.
‘Yes, darlings?’ came Daix’s voice, tinny and distant through the phone. ‘You have something juicy for me?’
‘Darlings?’ said Tai. ‘Now you sound like Brianne.’
Hell and High Water Page 9