“Later this afternoon. This is someone else.”
“That’s not a good tone.”
“What’s wrong with my tone?”
“It’s the one you got when you realized I’d crashed the speedboat.”
“It is not,” Veruca protested. “This has a note of uncertainty to it. I was very certain then that you’d crashed the boat Belial gave me for my twenty-first birthday.”
Finn decided shutting up was the smart thing to do.
****
Breakfast was ordered and Veruca had gotten them all checked into their room before they’d even arrived (a perk of being the owner of the hotel that Finn quite liked). Finn was slurping happily on an Irish coffee that had been festooned with much too much whipped cream and green sprinkles. Finn wasn’t really sure why they always served him his brunch cocktail this way but was willing to bet it had originally been Constance’s doing. The older woman delighted in treating him like her favorite grandchild, which was okay with Finn because she was probably old enough, and he hadn’t gotten the chance to know his actual grandparents. At least not that he remembered.
Ever since they’d had breakfast with Constance a few months before and he’d ordered an Irish coffee with extra whip, they’d started showing up looking like an overdressed St. Patrick’s cupcake. He couldn’t complain, though. He loved sprinkles.
“When’s your friend arriving?”
“It should be soon,” Veruca said, not looking up from the paper she was perusing. She’d handed Finn the Life section without a second thought and kept the boring parts of the paper to herself. She had to keep an eye on stocks and Wall Street, or whatever, though. Finn assumed that once a person hit a certain level of wealth, it was law to pretend you enjoyed stuffy meetings and long columns of tiny numbers. “And she’s not my friend. I made a few calls and was referred to a specialist.”
“Someone specializes in ne’er-do-well necromancers?” Finn asked, side-eyeing her.
“Not that specific. She’s a problem solver. They’re all over, hired help. They walk between the human world and the fairy world and therefore have connections in both. I’ve worked with one a time or two.”
“This one?”
“Not specifically. The man I requested wasn’t available but this woman is evidently just as effective. I was promised she’d be prompt, so keep an eye out.”
Finn lifted his gaze to look over the restaurant, scanning the faces for anyone who looked like they’d know how to handle “problems.” He wasn’t really sure what sort of problems fairies would have other than peasants tricking them into saying their own names or children tricking them into climbing into their own ovens. He hadn’t come across many fairies—or maybe not any, really. He’d certainly lied to get a partner into bed, he had to imagine the same trick had been pulled on him by a perfectly regular human—so he couldn’t really say what motivations would drive them.
The restaurant looked relatively normal, though. Just hotel guests enjoying lunch or chatting with friends and family. No one looked especially clever or dangerous.
Someone did look familiar, though, he realized. A woman had entered the restaurant from the outside entrance and made her way confidently to the host, who was just then gesturing to Finn and Veruca.
“Hey,” Finn said, intrigued. “Isn’t that—”
“It is.” Veruca said. She had the boat-crashing tone again.
****
Veruca knew the second Doris Jean entered the restaurant. Normally the song of souls was background noise, like having lived next to a busy street for so long your brain tunes out all the honks and engine revs. Occasionally, a soul would jump out above the rest, however, its pitch louder than others, or at least just familiar in a way that caught her attention.
This one practically screamed in her ear, a gleeful announcement of immorality and self-service. She could read the name of the person clear as day, and it wasn’t the one she’d been given when the meeting had been set up. That alone wasn’t an issue. She knew plenty of people, demons, and fae who were perfectly trustworthy—to those they considered worthy of it—and yet lied about their names. This woman was another story, however. She wasn’t just giving false names to protect her identity or keep herself out of trouble, she enjoyed the deception. Her soul was damaged by it.
“Well, fancy this,” she said as she stepped up to the table. She wasn’t much taller than Veruca on her own, but she was wearing several inches worth of heel and sole, and her normally dark brown hair was spiked up above the buzzed sides into a baby blue Mohawk. She was thick with muscle—not an ounce of fat on her, Veruca would guess if pressed—with a round face and features that spoke clearly of her love of mischief.
“You’re Alex,” Veruca stated.
“Well, I guess you know I’m not,” she said, pulling a chair out and settling in as if they were all old friends. “From our last meeting, I wasn’t sure you’d call.”
“I didn’t intend to,” Veruca said with a sigh. She’d rather work with the Fairy queen herself than agree to dealing with Doris Jean Long, but she had come highly recommended, and supposedly her trust could be bought just as easily as her services and connections. “But you’re here now and we are in a bit of a rush.”
“Excellent. I would appreciate if you didn’t call me by my real name, though.”
“Why’s that, Doris?”
She snorted, amused rather than insulted. Veruca caught Finn looking between them as if he wasn’t sure who was volleying what and if he was going to get knocked out in the crossfire.
“Because I’m willing to take ten percent off my fee if you don’t. Come on, call me Alex. It rolls right off the tongue.” She turned her gaze to Finn, and Veruca could clearly see the predator behind her eyes. Doris may have been human through and through, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a monster. “Like I bet you do, pretty boy.”
“You’d have to ask my girl here about that,” Finn said, jerking his thumb at Veruca and ignoring the hand creeping over his knee. “She’s the only one with access to my tongue as of late.”
“She must pay well. I hear the last dame you hooked up with was rolling in it.”
“Only thing she’s rolling in now is her own grave. Might want to move that hand, Doris,” Veruca said, keeping her tone calm. She recognized Doris’s type and knew it wouldn’t do to let herself be provoked. Doris smiled, turning back to Veruca like a mother disappointed in her daughter for smearing lipstick all over her face.
“Fifteen percent? I won’t push twenty, but trust me, I’m worth it even without the discount. Harvard says you’re looking for a Renaissance woman, and I’m a regular Mona Lisa.”
“Enigmatic and little?” Finn interjected. Doris winked his way but kept her focus on Veruca.
“I’m considering my options,” Veruca said as if Finn hadn’t spoken.
“Well, talk me through it,” Doris suggested casually. “What are you looking for, what’s the problem?”
“Someone thinks I killed some people,” Finn announced, evidently not picking up on the tension or Veruca’s hesitation. She let him speak, figuring his lack of awareness of what was really going on would be a boon as he tried to explain why Veruca had requested help from Alex. “I haven’t, of course. I’m a lover, not a killer.”
“I bet you are, pretty boy.”
Finn rambled right over the end of her comment, animated as he spoke of what had gone on that morning, from his own unique perspective.
“We found a zombie and it knew my name, which was a little weird since I don’t recall ever meeting this zombie before. There was this big guy, too. A … I dunno, bear sorta, fairy sorta thing. Kinda walrus-like, actually. Massive tusks, and hands like—like huge … hands. You know the type. Furry, bigger than a breadbox. I held my cool. Supposedly the fairies want my head and you’re here to keep it attached.”
“You must give good head if they want it that bad.”
“You have no idea, love. And you won’
t, so long as my comely Veruca has a say in it,” Finn said, winding down. He looked to Veruca, did a double take, and then looked back toward Doris. “I don’t think she likes you much.”
“I’m not here to braid her hair and dress her up for the prom. I’m here to do a job. If you wanted me, you’ve heard of my reputation and you know how good I am. No one better, in fact.”
“You were my second choice,” Veruca said.
“That was your first mistake. Your second would be not hiring me. Come on, love. Fifteen percent off and I’ll throw in a football phone.”
“Ooh,” Finn said, drawing Veruca’s attention. She couldn’t tell if he was humoring the other woman or actually excited at the idea of a free phone shaped like a pigskin.
“We need connections,” Veruca said, stalling as if she hadn’t decided she had little choice in the matter. “FBI, local law, maybe the fae if it comes to it. We need to find someone who’s been causing the wrong type of mischief, and I need to make sure that once we’ve found him, he and I can have a little talk.”
Doris got a sparkle in her eye, knowing exactly what unpleasantness was meant by “little talk”. Darkness scraped through the threads of her soul, like skid marks made up of violence and dishonesty. Many people would lie or fight, but a specific type of change overtook those who partook of certain sins with glee in their hearts. Veruca had seen demons with brighter souls than Doris Jean Long.
“I’m your woman. I specialize in the wrong kind of mischief and know a thing or two about making people spill their guts.”
“I’ll bet you do.” Reluctantly, Veruca put her hand out, resigned to the deal. “Alex.”
The other woman grinned, happy to be getting her way.
****
“You didn’t seem to like her much,” Finn repeated once they were alone at the table. “Why involve her at all?”
“She said it herself, she’s exactly what we need. The person we’re dealing with is powerful, evil from the sound of it. We need someone who can play on the same field. Plus, she promised a quick turnaround on the initial information. In the meantime, we’ll get settled in upstairs.”
“You’re sure? We can’t just call in some demon to take care of things?”
“Demons have jobs, you know. They help out when necessary, but stopping humans from being murdered is low on their list of duties. Besides, I want to handle this one myself.”
“What for?” Finn could see in her face that something was bothering her. It could have just been the slimy feeling that seemed to be lingering from shaking hands with Alex, but he doubted it. Veruca didn’t answer at first, her gaze fixed ahead on the fancy wallpaper and bohemian foliage decorating the dining room. After a moment, though, she slid her hand over and grasped Finn’s hand gently, turning to meet his eyes.
“It knew you.”
“The zombie?” Finn blinked, realizing she was worried for him, much more so than he’d thought to be for himself. “Plenty of people know me. Not always by that name, but I’ve been all over the place. Maybe she recognized me from a Wanted poster somewhere—all trumped-up charges, I assure you. I’m an innocent man.”
Veruca’s lip quirked. “Of course you are.”
“No need to worry for me. In fact, you can fob this whole affair off on someone else and you and I can take a trip. We’ll find a sandy beach somewhere—a nude beach! The both of us will frolic naked through the surf.”
“You’ll burn in an instant.”
“Well, you’ll just have to slather me with sunscreen. Really, really rub down every part of me.”
“The table next to us can hear you.”
“And yet not a one of them’s offering to rub me down. Seems rude.”
The pair chuckled quietly and Finn grinned, glad to get a laugh, even a concealed one from people who were pretending not to eavesdrop. Veruca leaned in for a gentle kiss, squeezing Finn’s hand as she pulled back.
“Let’s get to the room before we try for any hanky-panky.”
“You’re no fun,” Finn said with a pout.
“We’ll see about that.”
Chapter Six
Veruca didn’t waste any time once they were closed in the penthouse. Finn didn’t expect sex from the first moment she grabbed him, figuring initially that she just wanted the physical contact. She cupped the back of his neck and pulled him down to meet her in a kiss that was passionate but calm. A little thrill went down his spine, as it always did when Veruca was near. He hoped to never lose the feeling, but had also fallen so in love with her that were she to take a vow of chastity, he knew he’d be willing to remain by her side.
There was a slight distance between them initially, and Finn let her have her space, only going so far as to rest his hands on her hips and let her control the intensity of the kiss. When she closed in and held him tight against her, he could sense immediately how she wanted to be touched, what she wanted to feel. He knew she was worried for him, nervous even though she was so careful to conceal her fear, maybe for him or maybe for herself.
She was the strongest woman he’d ever met, which only made it more thrilling to know that she loved him. Strength was something he’d always found himself attracted to, even if the attraction ended up threatening his very life. Veruca wasn’t out to exploit him and boost her own power like so many others, though. She wanted to protect him, to keep him close and happy. She put up with a great many ridiculous things from Finn, and he would never be able to thank her enough. He was determined to keep trying, though.
Sliding his hands down to cup her glorious backside, he tucked his palms under her hips, lifting her and holding her close. Smiling against his lips, she wrapped herself around him easily, twirling his hair through her fingers. She ducked her head to the side to nuzzle along his cheek, kiss down his throat, and nip lightly at his collarbone. His heart kicked up, pumping hormones and excitement and love all through him. The walk to the bedroom took an eternity, and the feeling of her lips on his flesh nearly bowled him right over.
Twisting, he dropped back onto the bed, switching his grip to hug her against him, letting Veruca drop into his lap. Cupping his cheeks, she kissed him again, squeezing him with her thighs as if afraid she might lose him if she didn’t keep them both grounded.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered against her lips, rubbing her back gently. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than here with you.”
“Oh, Finn,” Veruca whispered, smiling, dappling kisses along his cheeks and up to his forehead. “I’m not worried about you leaving.”
“Then why do you seem sad?”
Veruca leaned back, biting her lip as if saying what she was thinking might make it come true. “I’m worried someone might take you from me.”
“Nonsense,” Finn said, reaching up to brush a hand over her face as if her braided hair needed settling. “You’re stuck with me, no matter what. I was just considering getting out the handcuffs, in fact. You can bind me to the bed and stick close as a guard. Real close, in fact.”
“I’d say I’m pretty close already,” she said, giving her hips a little thrust, grinding herself against him.
“You could be closer,” he whispered, brushing his hand over her breast on its way to the clasp on her trousers. “There are several millimeters of fabric between us. Easily removed. In fact, let me show you.”
“Oh, yes, do demonstrate,” she whispered back, taking his mouth intently. For all her coiled intensity, she kept the pace slow and her touch gentle. He matched her, eager to sate her cravings and soothe away her concern.
****
“Finn, get up.”
There’s no way that’s happening, Finn thought before he was even completely conscious. He was warm and loose and so comfortable he was sure he’d actually just become one with the plump pillows puffed around his naked body. After a few seconds of indulging his desire to remain mindless and still, he opened his right eye and tried to look around without moving enough to disturb the careful n
est he’d made.
“Finn,” Veruca said a second before slapping him hard on the ass. He jolted slightly, and not entirely out of shock. She’d managed to turn his bottom red before he’d fallen asleep, and the smack stung a little more than it would have otherwise.
“Yeah, okay,” he grumbled into the pillows before gingerly rolling his upper half over so he could see her. His mind was still foggy and he couldn’t remember why they couldn’t just lounge in bed for a few more hours. She could start by kissing his butt better. “What’s going on?”
“We’re to meet Dor—Alex. She has something for us.”
“About—right.” Finn shook himself off and forced himself to scoot to the end of the bed and sit up. He’d been about to ask, “About what?” before his brain reminded him that, oh yeah, you’re wanted by the fairies for murder and reckless necromancy.
“Reckromancy,” Finn mumbled to himself before chuckling, getting to his feet, and going to gather up his clothes. It took him walking the room in circles a few times before he realized they weren’t dumped haphazardly about like he’d left them. “Pants?”
“Being washed,” Veruca said as she exited the bathroom and headed out to the living area. Being the hotel’s owner had some nice perks, including use of the penthouse when they came into town. Finn wondered idly as he moved to the closet if she kicked out paying guests so she could have the room for herself. He doubted it, since Veruca was one of the most generous women he’d ever met, but the mental image of it was a funny one.
Veruca found him still giggling over the idea of a fat man being tossed out onto the curb amidst his many possessions, his giant mustache twitching madly with rage. Finn wasn’t sure why a man in a twenty-first century penthouse had brought a Victrola, a pile of shiny monocles, and a penny farthing, but he enjoyed the mental image nonetheless.
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