That was the word for him, he realized, happy. He wasn't fully human, nor truly hound. He was sidhe - wild sidhe - and he was a man.
Buying Trouble
Karen Chance
Chapter 1
I saw him across the crowded room. He was standing behind a couple of werewolves and a large troll. One of the Weres was knocking snow off his boots while the other attempted to hand his overcoat to the troll, who was serving as greeter. Since in troll terms that involved stomping on potential troublemakers before they got in the door, then throwing them out on their asses, he wasn't getting very far. The Weres finally figured that out and walked away grumbling.
The other new arrival kept his floor-length cloak on. Of course, he probably had more than one reason for that. The hood was up, so I couldn't see his face, but from underneath the cape spilled a faint nimbus of gold. There aren't too many creatures who cast light shadows, and of those, only one would have any reason to be visiting Brooklyn's seediest occult auction house.
He wasn't here to shop. He was here for me.
I whirled and started for the door to the employees-only area, but a large body in a too-small tux blocked my way. "Claire."
"Matt." I tried to move around him, but he managed to entirely fill the doorway. If he ever stopped those compulsive gym visits, he'd have to start edging in sideways.
"Where do you think you're going?" The soprano voice out of the gorilla-size chest was always a surprise.
"To the bathroom. My contacts are killing me."
Matt fished my glasses off the top of my head and settled them on my nose. "Suffering builds character."
"I have enough character, thanks." I glanced back over my shoulder. "Matt, please! I need to - "
"Start earning your paycheck, I agree." His small brown eyes flickered here and there nervously as if he knew trouble was about to break out, but wasn't sure of the direction. Considering what was up for sale tonight, he was probably right. "I'd feel better having you closer than the back rooms. We got a lot of volatile stuff here."
I wondered if he meant the customers or the merchandise. Either way, I couldn't appeal to a higher power. Despite the overuse of steroids and the bad crew cut, Matt wasn't a bouncer in a dive on the wrong side of town. He was old man Gerald's darling only son and, since his dad was away on a buying trip, my boss.
"Anything goes nuts and my ass is grass. Dad'll have me cleaning the stockroom for the next decade, and who's gonna pay you under the table then?"
I had a good comeback about just how little he paid me, but it died on my lips. The sight of the gray cloak weaving its way across the room occupied all my attention. There was nothing menacing about it, unless you knew what was underneath.
Except for the fact that it was coming straight at me.
I let Matt maneuver me to the front of the main salon, since his bulk insured that we'd move faster through the crush of bodies than I could have alone. We stopped in front of a semicircle of marble plinths that held the evening's wares. None of tonight's items had been available for preview, which explained the pre-auction crowd. Some were of dubious origin and I don't think Gerald had wanted anyone to examine them too closely before the sale. But others were simply too dangerous to have on display without a major safety precaution. Unfortunately for my plans to cut and run, that happened to be me.
Matt positioned me at center stage, up a short flight of steps from the throng of customers. There had been quite a few people on the platform, despite the attempts of the two trolls stationed at each end to keep it clear. The trolls didn't look happy. They were under orders not to break anyone in two or crack any heads open, which kind of limited their persuasive abilities. But, as usual, my appearance cleared the place faster than a gas leak.
"That's better." Matt surveyed the empty platform with satisfaction.
"You could put up the wards," I pointed out desperately. The plinths were usually surrounded by magical shields, only they don't work so well with me around.
"I don't trust the wards, especially not tonight," Matt said irritably. "What's the matter with you?" His tiny eyes scanned the salon, but there were too many people - and assorted other things - in the way for him to notice my particular problem. And I wasn't planning to tell him. He only paid me a fraction of what I was worth, but a fraction is better than nothing. And until I sorted out some personal issues, this was the only income I had. Freaking Matt out would be extremely bad for my dwindling bank account. And maybe I was wrong. Maybe a Lord of the Light Fey was suddenly interested in acquiring a moldy old talisman of dubious provenance, for which he'd be expected to pay a premium price.
Yeah, right.
"Nothing."
"Okay, then." Matt did one more scan of the room. "I need to keep an eye on the Weres. You think you can manage to stand here and stay out of trouble?"
"Well... I can stand here." I didn't have much choice considering that the Fey was between me and the exits.
Matt rolled his eyes and moved off to crowd the two werewolves. I thought that was less than smart. It was another week until the full moon, but they were already vibrating with repressed energy and spoiling for a fight. But it was his call, and I had my own problems: while I'd been distracted, the Fey had disappeared.
I thought for a second that I spotted him trying to meld with the shadows in a corner, but a second glance told me that it was only one of the banshees that the house used as security alarms. I scanned the room again, but it was no use. The Fey was simply gone, and I didn't intend to wait around for him to show up. For once, Matt was going to have to make do without me.