Hell and High Water

by Charlotte E. English

  ‘How do I get that deal again?’

  ‘Start by answering my questions. Did you follow me to Eventide?’

  ‘I’m tempted to let you keep thinking that, but no. Just a guess. The Tai of old had a taste for luxury.’

  ‘I’m not the Tai of old.’

  ‘That’s becoming clear.’ Phélan signalled Tully. A black glass bottle of something came duly floating over, followed by an empty glass.

  ‘If you think you like that,’ said Phélan, nodding at my Frostbite. ‘You should try this.’

  ‘I’m good. Can’t think clearly with too much alcoholic brain freeze.’

  ‘Maybe I’m not too interested in your thinking clearly.’

  ‘Phélan, this is business. Flirt some other time.’

  He sighed, took off his hat, and tossed it on a vacant chair. ‘All right. You spoke of questions, plural. What were the rest?’

  ‘I was just asking Tully whether you’ve ever been seen rubbing elbows with these selkie-trafficking sluagh.’

  ‘I told you. I’m no slaver.’

  ‘So you did.’

  ‘Doesn’t seem like you were listening.’

  I shrugged. ‘I want to believe you. Considering everything, though, it’s not unwise to ask questions.’

  ‘And Tully said what?’

  ‘Said to ask you myself. Which is interesting, because I never saw you come in, and I was expecting you.’

  Phélan’s gaze flicked to the bar, and the unassuming clurichaun presently polishing glasses. ‘Tully’s got all sorts of hidden depths.’

  ‘Probably needs to. Can’t be easy lording it over the only truly neutral ground in the city.’

  ‘I wouldn’t underestimate him.’

  ‘It’s okay. I’m fairly sure he likes me.’

  ‘That being your weapon of choice.’ Phélan gave me an unreadable look.

  ‘Pure likeability?’ I grinned. ‘It’s true. I’m everyone’s favourite gal. Except when I’m really not.’

  Phélan took a drink. I waited, but no rejoinder emerged.

  ‘You missed your cue to tell me how unpopular I am with you,’ I said.

  ‘Is that something you need to hear?’

  ‘Need, no. But it’s fun.’

  Phélan said nothing. I’d lost his attention; he was looking past me, at something unfolding out of my field of vision.

  ‘That,’ he said after a moment, ‘is Nelo Lysander.’

  I resisted the urge to turn and gawk, with an effort. ‘And he is?’

  ‘A… cousin, of sorts.’ Phélan didn’t look happy to see him.

  Sluagh can be funny about family. By which I mean, family ties are supposed to be everything. They’re more tribal than clannish, though the effect is much the same. If you could get Phélan and all his extended family connections into one place, under the right — or badly wrong — circumstances, they’d troop, and when they troop you get a Wild Hunt, and then… seriously, run for cover.

  Phélan tends to steer clear of his family.

  ‘This isn’t a connection you’re happy about,’ I surmised.

  Phélan didn’t answer right away. He was watching Lysander’s doings with an intent interest, and his face had gone hard and cold.

  Abruptly, he looked away. Back at me. ‘He’s not so bad. But he is a damned fool.’

  With which words, he rose and abandoned our table, heading for Nelo Lysander.

  I followed.

  Nelo looked nothing like Phélan, but then, the connection between them was likely remote. He had short-cropped brown hair, a style of dress that was casual to the point of slobbishness, a smiling mouth, and intensely pale eyes. Eerily pale. He looked like the kind of guy who could look up the ghost of your great-grandma, have a cosy chat, and then eat her for lunch.

  Which is to say he was a strange blend of joviality and fucking scary. That’s sluagh for you.

  ‘Nelo,’ said Phélan. A vacant seat beckoned, but he didn’t take it, preferring, apparently, to loom over his distant cousin.

  Nelo Lysander had a couple of friends with him, but they all went quiet when Phélan showed up. One was sluagh; the other looked like half sluagh, half troll. Interesting.

  ‘Hey, if it isn’t Phélan,’ said Nelo, with an expansive, easy smile. ‘Sit down, buddy. And your lady friend, too.’ His pale eyes shifted to me, appraising. Appreciative, in ways I didn’t appreciate. Assessing.

  ‘Tai,’ I said, and, remembering the role I was playing, I smiled into those creepy eyes, and held out my hand. ‘Not Phélan’s lady friend.’

  Nelo shook my hand, holding it slightly too long. ‘I like her already,’ he informed Phélan.

  ‘She’s everyone’s favourite gal,’ he agreed, and took the proffered seat. I accepted one from Nelo’s half-troll friend, taking a moment to size him up as I did so. You don’t see half-trolls very often. This one had the appearance of being uncomfortable with himself, rather self-effacing. Much more so than a man of his physical advantages ought to be; he was intimidating. I awarded him a smile, rather more genuine than the one I’d bestowed upon Nelo. He smiled back.

  The third person at the table, the other sluagh, said nothing and did nothing. He watched. He had an air of stillness that suggested high alertness, and a busy mind. What was he reading into the situation? What did he make of me, or of Phélan’s appearance? I couldn’t read him.

  ‘Here on business?’ said Phélan, and repeated his send-me-drinks gesture to Tully.

  Nelo looked from Phélan to me. ‘Might be,’ he said cautiously.

  ‘Don’t be shy of Tai,’ said Phélan. ‘She’s in business, too.’

  ‘Oh? And what business might that be?’ Nelo directed this question at me, ignoring Phélan.

  Tricky. You can’t exactly come right out and say you’re trying to sell your erstwhile best friend into slavery and you’d like to make use of your new acquaintance’s contacts to do it.

  ‘I’ve heard there’s money in furs, lately,’ I said.

  Nelo nodded. ‘Plenty. Lots of fine ladies like yourself, wanting a bit of luxury.’

  Nelo didn’t seem to be catching my drift. His friend, though… maybe. Something had changed with him, too subtle to put my finger on. But I had his attention.

  ‘Nothing too common, though,’ I continued, briefly catching the eye of Nelo’s friend. ‘I’m looking to deal in the rarer kind.’

  ‘Might be I can put you in the way of an associate of mine,’ offered Nelo. Half his attention was on Phélan as he said it; looking to win his cousin’s approval, was he? I might be able to use that.

  I smiled on Nelo. ‘I could use some contacts.’

  Nelo’s friend abruptly spoke. ‘Buyer?’

  ‘Seller.’

  Nelo watched this exchange, still smiling. ‘Maybe you and Drevan should get acquainted, hm? Seems like maybe you could help each other out.’

  Drevan, as seemed to be his wont, said nothing.

  ‘Same trade, hm?’ I suggested.

  ‘New thing,’ said Nelo. ‘Could be—’

  ‘Shut it, Nelo,’ said Drevan. He looked long at me, jaw set. Nothing about his demeanour seemed welcoming, or conciliatory. But, he hadn’t walked away either.

  In appearance, he was thoroughly unassuming, in ways that I might call cultivated. Serviceable haircut, unremarkable brown. In build, neither heavy nor especially thin, and while he was in decent shape he didn’t have the look of a man in fighting condition. Faded blue jeans, a dark t-shirt and a black jacket. Average.

  A man dedicated to going unnoticed, in short. That tends to get my attention.

  ‘Hey, I promise, I’m not here to trade on your patch,’ I said, smiling. ‘Just, I could use a few pointers, you know?’

  ‘Help the good lady out, Drevan,’ said Nelo. ‘Any friend of Phélan’s, right?’

  I dislike playing the helpless female card, as a rule. It’s demeaning. But, fuck me, it works. Few men can resist an opportunity to explain something to an attractive f
emale, and this guy was no exception. Drevan didn’t visibly soften, but a little of the tension went out of that clenched jaw, and he looked away. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Fantastic,’ I said. ‘I’m pretty sure of my supply. I just need to figure out where to take it.’

  Drevan looked at me. Still unreadable, but I had his attention.

  After that, I permitted the conversation to slide into other subjects. Wouldn’t do to belabour the point; Drevan would either pursue it, or not.

  I have to say, outside of the angle I was trying to work, Nelo and his friends were pretty good company. Especially his half-troll bodyguard — for such he must have been, let’s be clear here. His name, I eventually learned, was Paulan, and he had a taciturn quality I found appealing. Perhaps because it registered with me as shy, rather than pugnacious, like Drevan. I had the feeling, throughout the next hour of drinking and talking, that he was sometimes studying me. Covertly, of course, so I didn’t let on that I had noticed. What was he trying to figure out about me?

  I wasn’t surprised when, as Phélan and I rose to leave, Paulan soon found an excuse to follow us.

  ‘Ma’am,’ he called after me, bringing me to a halt a few steps beyond the Puca’s front door.

  ‘How courteous,’ I said easily, turning. ‘No one’s called me “ma’am” since about nineteen forty.’ Except Rudy, but only in jest, so I wasn’t going to count it.

  Paulan looked sideways at Phélan.

  ‘You appear to be somewhat de trop,’ I informed Phélan.

  He didn’t move.

  I lowered my voice. ‘If you imagine I can’t handle myself around your friends, kindly reconsider.’

  ‘This isn’t a patronising show of gallantry,’ Phélan retorted.

  ‘Then what is it?’

  He had no answer to that, seemingly, for he said nothing, and withdrew with a scowl.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said to Paulan. ‘Phélan’s…’ Phélan’s what? I couldn’t think of any single word that could encapsulate all the odd and inscrutable attitudes that were his. I shrugged this off with a smile.

  ‘Your supply,’ said Paulan, without responding to this. ‘You were speaking of — skins, weren’t you?’

  ‘I believe I said furs.’

  ‘Drevan’s into something… new,’ said Paulan.

  ‘Behind Nelo’s back, hm?’

  Paulan nodded. ‘I’m not here to talk smack about Nelo, but Drevan’s got ideas.’

  I sighed inwardly. I didn’t need to get tangled up with a leadership squabble among Nelo’s gang, whatever the hell they were up to. That said, I had got the impression that Nelo wasn’t quite the brightest star in the sky. I could see how that would frustrate a man like Drevan.

  Perhaps this, too, was something I could use.

  So what did Paulan want? I thought fast.

  ‘You think he’ll win?’ I hazarded.

  ‘He has support.’

  Aha. ‘But not Phélan’s.’

  ‘Phélan and Nelo are family.’

  And among the sluagh, that meant everything. Phélan would never support the deposition of a cousin of his — unless he was suitably motivated, because after all, we’re still talking about Phélan here.

  Paulan wasn’t talking like a man who felt a deep and abiding loyalty for either Nelo or Drevan. Probably he was just worried about where his ass was going to land when the dust settled.

  ‘If Drevan prevails,’ I said, ‘I can try to get Phélan on side for you. Can’t promise, but I’m not awful at this.’

  He nodded. ‘I’ve got information.’

  ‘About Drevan’s buyers.’

  ‘I’m usually present.’

  ‘Influence for information, then?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Consider it done.’

  Paulan nodded. ‘There’s a building on West Hendon Broadway. Derelict. You got something to sell, show up tomorrow night. Auction starts at ten.’

  ‘And Drevan?’

  ‘He won’t stop you.’

  So he was acting with Drevan’s knowledge and consent — or at least, he could presume far enough on Drevan’s favour to feel certain of his support. I revised my ideas about Paulan’s neutrality.

  ‘I’ll be there,’ I told him, and tipped my hat. ‘Appreciate it.’

  He nodded, and returned inside.

  I returned to Phélan.

  ‘There’s a power struggle going on,’ I said, falling into step beside him.

  ‘Drevan trying to unseat Nelo again?’

  ‘It’s happened before?’

  ‘Nelo will deal with it.’

  ‘I promised I’d use my influence with you.’

  He looked down at me. It was dark, and since his eyes were shadowed beneath the brim of his homburg, I couldn’t decipher his expression. ‘Sounds like fun,’ he said.

  ‘All kinds of fun. But if you’re determined on this policy of non-interference, there isn’t a whole lot of point in my unleashing the feminine wiles tonight.’

  ‘Who said anything about determined.’

  I grinned. ‘All right, hold that thought. In the meantime, we have a date for tomorrow night.’

  ‘Let me guess. The kind of date that in no way resembles an actual date.’

  ‘Unless gate-crashing a highly illegal selkie slave market in my company sounds likely to turn you on, in which case, suit up.’

  He shook his head. ‘Life’s been so quiet without you.’

  ‘I refuse to believe any part of that statement.’

  ‘Would you accept quieter?’

  ‘Allowable.’

  We emerged from the Puca’s lands onto Adelaide Road, which was… random. It’s always random. I’ve never ended up on the same street twice.

  Phélan paused in front of a tall block of flats, light from its many windows casting half-shadows onto his face.

  ‘Problem?’ I said.

  ‘Are we done for tonight?’

  ‘I’ve no other use to make of your connections just now, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘I thought it was my aura of badness.’

  ‘Or that either.’

  He nodded. ‘I was going to suggest going for a drink, but we’ve done that.’

  I’d absorbed more than enough peculiar Puca beverages for one evening, that was for sure. Especially since I was very much on the job.

  ‘Any other ideas?’ he said, watching me.

  ‘Are we talking about the kind of date that in every way resembles a date.’

  ‘Let’s say yes.’

  ‘In that case, no.’

  ‘I’d like to change my previous answer.’

  I grinned. ‘You know it’s a bad idea.’

  ‘I know nothing of the kind.’

  ‘Track record of total disaster, etc, etc.’

  ‘You worry too much.’ He turned, and began to walk away from me.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ I called after him.

  ‘Yes, yes.’ He was briefly illuminated by the yellow glow of a nearby street lamp, then faded into the shadows beyond.

  I lingered a moment, wondering if he would come back. When he didn’t, I stepped around the side of the block of flats, and concealed myself in a dark spot, beyond the reach of the lamps.

  Daix picked up on the third ring. ‘Tai. Tell me shit.’

  ‘I’ve got a lead.’

  ‘Yes.’

  I ran her through the evening’s developments, glossing over some of Phélan’s contributions. Daix tended to get incendiary on that subject. ‘So, more names for you,’ I concluded. ‘This Drevan Somebody has links to tomorrow’s auction. If he has any known associates besides Nelo—’

  ‘I know, I know. I get the drill.’

  ‘Sorry. Anyway, feel like showing up?

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Why not, because I’m always the bridesmaid.’ I could hear the scowl in Daix’s voice, even if she spoke lightly.

  ‘Who’s the bride in this scenario?’

 
‘Fionn.’

  ‘Ah. Don’t worry, she’s coming too.’

  ‘Sweet. All the girls together again.’

  Her tone dripped sarcasm, or perhaps it was venom.

  ‘So, are you coming?’ I persevered. ‘If you’re passing yourself off as a buyer in this charming scenario, you’d want to be at this auction.’

  ‘You mean I get to show up and make it rain.’

  ‘I’ll take that over burning the place down, sure.’

  She was grinning as she said, ‘Party. I’ll dress up.’

  ‘Great. Now go away. I have to talk to Fi.’

  ‘Okay, but I think you’re rushing things. It’s customary to wait until at least the fourth date before you propose marriage.’

  ‘Speaking from experience, are you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I blinked. ‘No further questions.’

  ‘Damnit. Should’ve hooked you with that one.’

  ‘Too obvious.’

  ‘Worth a try. Oh! I have a nugget of news for you, too.’

  ‘Sounds promising,’ I said.

  ‘Guess who has links-by-marriage to the loaded and fashionable Quinn-Diamhor family.’

  ‘Please say Brianne.’

  ‘Got it in one.’ Daix sounded incredibly pleased with herself, but I let it pass. She’d earned it. ‘Brianne Lamarre’s mother was a Quinn-Diamhor by birth. Married a bit beneath herself, by popular opinion, but our girl Bri’s been cultivating those connections.’

  ‘Good job.’

  ‘That was a compliment, Tai. A real one.’

  ‘Yes, yes it was. I’m guessing you haven’t found Brianne herself yet?’

  ‘That sounded more like an insult.’

  ‘Only a bit. Anything else for me?’

  ‘You expect such a lot from a girl.’

  I grinned. ‘Call me when you’ve got more. Bye.’

  It took me a few minutes to work up the will to call Fi. This wasn’t going to be the fun kind of conversation.

  ‘Fi,’ I said when she picked up. ‘Hey. You busy?’

  ‘I’ve a few minutes. Something afoot?’

  ‘Rather.’ I took a breath. ‘Look. I know we lost touch for a while there, but we were always good friends before, and…’

  ‘Mm?’ she prompted.

  ‘And I was wondering if it’s too soon to drag you to a slave auction and sell you to the highest bidder.’