by Amy Sumida
“We are investigating a crime,” Raza announced.
“A crime.” She stiffened. “And you come to me?”
“The company we're investigating is owned by a shell corporation that you manage,” I explained. “It's called Enchanted Addictions.”
Ms. Walsh's face shut down, her eyes and expression going blank. “Oh?”
“We need to know who owns Ubaig Incorporated,” Raza said as if he expected the answer post-haste.
Ms. Walsh took a deep breath before answering, “I'm afraid that I can't give you that information, Your Majesty.”
Raza lifted a brow. “Do you not know who owns the corporation?”
“I know who owns it but I cannot give you the name. It would be betraying a client and if I did that, no one would trust us.”
“Your client has been selling magic-enhanced drugs to humans who are now dying,” I said. “You cannot withhold the information. This is a murder investigation.”
“Per human laws, you would need a warrant for the name,” Ms. Walsh said. “Per Council laws, I have committed no crime so you may only request information from me, not demand it. If you had a warrant of extinguishment for my client, I would be required to help you locate them but if you don't have a name, then you have no warrant, and I am within my rights to protect my client.”
“Is she right?” I asked Killian. “That's a rather circular argument.”
Killian shrugged. “I'm inclined to say yes. Williams didn't think we'd get anything out of her, and I think if he could have ordered her to give us the name, he would have suggested it.”
“As I said,” Walsh continued, “I haven't broken any council laws or human laws. My client may or may not have done so but I do not have to supply you with the name to put on your warrant. That is your job.”
“I command you to give us the name!” Raza roared.
Ms. Walsh trembled slightly but she lifted her chin. “I respectfully decline, Your Majesty. We are not in Unseelie. You have no power over me here.”
“Is that what you think?” Raza shot to his feet with a feral snarl.
Walsh cringed back in her chair.
“Raza!” I grabbed his arm before he could lunge for her and show her exactly the kind of power he had over her no matter what realm she was in. “She's right! This isn't Fairy and you're not technically a king here. We're working for the Human Council and the laws prevent—”
“I am the law!” Raza declared.
“Okay, Judge Dredd, reel it in,” I said dryly.
That confused him enough to make him frown at me.
“Come on.” I pulled Raza toward the door. “We'll get the name another way.”
“I really am sorry that I can't help you,” Walsh said softly.
“Your client is a murdering bitch and you are a piece of filth for protecting her,” Killian declared.
“And you just pissed off your king, who also happens to be a dragon,” Conri added as we walked out. “I would watch my back if I were you, blood-sucker. And the sky. And the... you know what? Never mind. You ain't gonna see him coming; you'll just turn around one day and start screaming. You are so fucked.”
I caught the sound of a whimper just before Conri shut the door on Margaret Walsh's horrified face. It was completely untrue, of course; Raza would never kill someone merely for pissing him off. Well, not usually. But Walsh didn't know that.
I nodded in approval at Conri and he gave me a playful wink.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
No one said anything as we headed back to the SUVs. Williams didn't dare utter an I-told-you-so or even give Raza a side glance. Everyone could sense that the Dragon King was right on the verge of falling into a rage-filled abyss that he would emerge from in dragon form. As our team piled into the vehicles, I pulled Raza aside and around a cement column.
“Seren—” Raza started in an irritated tone.
I hugged him.
Raza crumpled over me and pulled me tightly against his chest. “I failed them.”
“No, babe, you didn't. This is just the beginning.” I stood back to look into his eyes. “We'll find the missing fairies and we'll nail this bitch to the wall.”
“Literally?” he asked in surprise. “Or is that a human expression?”
“Not literally, but I'm sure the Councils wouldn't mind if you wanted to try your hand at crucifixion after they find her guilty.”
Raza grinned. “I'm more of a draw and quarter man.”
I made a face. “Wicked, babe. Just wicked.”
He grinned broader.
“Come on, let's go before they think we're making out over here.”
“What would it matter if we were?” Raza grumbled as he followed me back to the SUV.
“It wouldn't be polite.”
Raza made a snorting sound.
“It's getting late,” Williams said as Raza and I got into the vehicle. “Shall we call it a night and head to Mr. Dealan's home?”
“Sure,” I agreed. “We can drop off our stuff but then I think we should try to find the dealer.”
“The dealer?” Williams asked as he started the car. I thought we agreed that would be pointless?”
“Now I'm thinking that he might know where they keep the drugs,” I explained. “He'd have to go somewhere to pick them up and something tells me that Alicia wouldn't want drug dealers traipsing through her office.”
“Good point,” Williams said. “And he'll be more likely to be out selling at night.”
We drove out of the city, Williams' GPS guiding him—in a British accent—to Drostan's home. Buildings got shorter, wider, and further apart until they became houses. Houses grew wider, taller, and further apart until they disappeared behind high walls or thick trees. You could tell that we were in a wealthy neighborhood even before Sloane let out an impressed whistle.
“He lives in Huntleigh. Nice,” Williams announced as we pulled up to a gate. He opened his window and leaned out to press the button on an intercom.
“Yes?” a male voice inquired.
“Hi, I'm Councilman Williams with—”
“Yes, Sir, you're expected,” the man cut Williams off, and a buzzer sounded just before the gate swung open.
“We're expected,” Williams said in a snooty voice after he rolled up the window.
We all chuckled at that but our laughter died as we drove up a winding lane that circled around the back of the house before heading to the front.
“Holy fuckballs!” Extinguisher Sloane exclaimed. “It's a fucking mansion.”
Mansion was putting it lightly. Drostan's backyard consisted of several acres of forest and another few acres of open lawn with a lake at one end—a lake large enough to have its own bridge. Further up, near the house, a tennis court was confined within a high, chainlink fence. Past that and up a slight rise, a patio large enough to hold a three-bedroom house with space to spare spread out in a fluid shape with a sunken pool off to one side. The pool and patio ended in a straight edge as if a curve had been sliced off by a giant blade. A rock wall shored up most of that sheer drop except for the portion where the pool was. There, a glass panel replaced the rocks, giving swimmers a view of the forest even while underwater and onlookers a view of the swimmers.
Twin fire braziers stood atop the ends of the rock wall that bracketed the pool's panel of glass, lit despite the fact that no one was out there to enjoy them. To the left of the pool, the patio met up with a grand staircase that led up to a covered entrance extravagant enough to be put in front of the house instead of behind. A walkway branched off from the backdoor, running the length of the home and bisected by a rounded balcony that perched over the pool, its supporting columns forming a border between water and land.
The house itself had walls of biscuit-colored stone and a gray tiled roof, steepled in many places and pierced with numerous chimneys. We drove around the side of it, getting a look at its significant width as well as the many decorative trees that had been planted in swirli
ng designs around the home. The driveway became a roundabout that circled a fountain. Metal horses reared around the fountain's basin with three tiers of lion heads spewing water above them.
“Looks like the lightning rod business is booming,” Conri noted dryly.
“Now this is a nice place,” Felix said.
Williams parked in front of a stone path that led to the front doors. There was enough space between our SUV and the fountain that two other vehicles could have parked alongside us. But the other SUVs formed a line behind ours instead of blocking the way. As we climbed out and started to collect our bags, Drostan opened the front doors and stepped out to greet us.
“Hey,” I called to him as I walked over to him with my husbands to either side of me and my guards behind us. “I hope this isn't a bad time.”
“No, it's perfect. My chef is making dinner. Have you eaten yet?”
“Not yet,” Killian said eagerly—always ready for a meal.
“Excellent! We can dine together.”
“Is it okay to park there?” I nodded back at the vehicles.
“Yes, of course. My cars are in the garage around the side of the house but there's plenty of room for me to get past you.” He waved us inside. “Please, come in.”
We entered a two-story foyer with a staircase to the right that swooped down from the second floor and continued its spiral to the basement below. Directly ahead of us, a living room waited beyond defining columns. A fire was burning in its massive fireplace. An elaborate mantle framed the fire, emphasized by an arch built into the wall above it. To our left, a dining room with another fireplace—this one unlit—opened onto a kitchen that extended back, out of sight. To our right, just before the stairs, a corridor led off beneath a stone arch.
Drostan took us straight through the living room, passing a door that opened onto the kitchen, and then headed outside, into an enclosed glass gazebo—not the round kind but a square, Victorian style.
“Most of you can stay in the guest house,” Drostan said as he opened the gazebo door and took us across the walkway at the back of the house.
We went down the grand stairs to the pool area, passing through a sunken cocktail bar/kitchenette beneath the balcony overhang. The bar had one of those counters that hung out over the pool so you could swim and have a drink at the same time. We passed another fountain and a sitting area before we reached the front door of a separate, smaller house. Drostan opened the door and took us into the living room. Just beyond it was a full-sized kitchen and off to the right, a corridor led back into the building.
“There's a laundry in here and the kitchen is stocked,” Drostan said. “It's only eight bedrooms and four baths but each bedroom has two beds. You can decide who stays here and I'll put the rest of you up in the main house.”
“This would be great for us,” Williams said to me.
“I'd rather keep Conri and Felix near me.” I leaned toward Drostan to add, “If I don't, they'll whine. Four rooms should suit our needs if you can spare them.”
“Yes, absolutely,” Drostan said. To Williams and the extinguishers, he added, “We'll leave you here to get settled. Just come up to the house when you're ready to eat.”
“We'll be going out again soon,” Williams said. “I don't know if we'll have time for dinner.”
“Oh,” Drostan sounded disappointed.
“We'll make time for dinner,” I said pointedly to Williams. “We have to eat.”
“Yes, of course,” Williams said hurriedly. “So, we'll just come up when we're ready. Thank you.”
“You're very welcome,” Drostan said, smiling again. He led our dwindled group back up to and then into the main house. We went up the swooping staircase to the second floor. “There are several open rooms in this wing. He led us down a corridor opening doors as he went. “You may take your pick.”
I checked out the rooms and chose one of the bigger ones for myself since I'd be bunking with one of my husbands. They were all as luxurious as the rest of the house, most with views of the garden and its lake. The one I chose had a fireplace as well. I put my bag in the closet and Killian set his beside mine.
“It's my turn with you.” Killian winked at me, then leaned in to nuzzle my face.
I kissed his cheek before I went out to our host, who was waiting in the hallway. “This place is amazing. Thank you for inviting us to stay.”
Drostan beamed at me. “I'm thrilled to have the company. My girlfriend should be here any minute now as well. She'll be joining us for dinner.”
“Wonderful. I'm looking forward to meeting her,” I said politely.
“How about a drink while we wait?” He offered.
“Sounds good to me,” Killian accepted.
We went back downstairs to Drostan's kitchen, where a Kitsune woman was cooking. She had her long, dark hair up in a bun, white sneakers on her feet, a white apron around her waist, and three fox tails swishing happily behind her. She turned toward us as we walked in and smiled.
“This is my chef, Ana,” Drostan introduced us. “Ana, these are my guests, King Raza, Queen Seren, Prince Killian, Sir Conri, and Sir Felix.”
“Your Majesties and Highness.” Ana bobbed a curtsy. “Dinner should be ready in fifteen minutes, Sir.”
“Wonderful. Thank you, Ana,” Drostan said. “We're just here to get some drinks. Don't let us disturb you any further.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I have pretty much everything,” Drostan said to us. “What's your poison?”
“Poison?” Raza frowned.
“He means, what do you want to drink?” Killian explained.
“Oh.” Raza frowned deeper. “I like...” he turned toward me. “What do I like?”
“Rum. Dark rum.”
“I'll have some dark rum,” Raza repeated.
“One for me as well, please,” I added. “But with 7-Up.”
“No problem.” Drostan grabbed some glasses and started filling them with ice. “And the rest of you?”
“I'll take a beer if you got one,” Killian said.
Drostan opened the fridge—the second fridge—and revealed a collection of soda, beer, wine, and champagne. “Take your pick.”
Killian, Conri, and Felix gathered around the fridge like moths to a flame.
“Hell, yeah,” Killian said in approval. Over his shoulder, he said to me, “Babe, we need a fridge like this.”
“Talk to Dad,” I said as I went to help Drostan with the drinks.
We collected our glasses and Drostan took us outside, onto the balcony that curved out over the pool. I settled onto a couch nicer than most I'd had inside the homes I had grown up in and gazed out across the lawn toward the lake. Silvery moonlight gleamed on the water but up at the house, the lights from inside shed a golden warmth onto the balcony. A coffee table stood in the middle of the seating area with a stone bowl full of glass shards in the center of it. Drostan hit a button at its base and flames erupted atop the glass.
Raza sighed and took my hand as he stared at the fire. “This reminds me of when we were courting.”
“You mean that time you saved me from the Sea Dragons?”
“Yes.” He grinned. “And Chad made a fire in his backyard.”
“Yeah, that was nice.”
“Sea Dragons?” Drostan asked. “It sounds as if you two had an unusual courtship.”
“Oh, all of my courtships with my husbands were unusual,” I said. “But I wouldn't have it any other way.”
“You were hard to win, mo shíorghrá, but worth every headache,” Raza declared.
“Headache?” I leaned away from him to glare at him.
“Uh-oh,” Conri whispered.
“I sent you the Unseelie Queen's crown and you sent it back to me with a note that read: I already have one and mine sparkles,” Raza reminded me.
Killian snorted and Drostan hid his grin behind a hand. My guards managed to stay silent. Even Conri knew better than to make a joke about the crown of Unsee
lie.
“I was exclusively dating Tiernan at the time and you were a pushy ass,” I grumbled. “You practically informed me that we'd be getting married after I had told you, over and over, that I only wanted Tiernan.”
“And it's a good thing that I was such a pushy ass,” Raza shot back. “Or we wouldn't be so happy now.”
“Yeah, but you didn't have to be quite so arrogant about it.”
“You required arrogance,” Raza huffed. “If I had shown one second of hesitation—one ounce of doubt—you would have ripped my heart out and tossed it to the pukas. Metaphorically speaking, of course.”