Blood Deal (Prof Croft Book 2) Read online

  “It’s good to see you again, Anita,” Caroline said.

  Anita nodded and accepted Caroline’s hand, her nostrils opening out.

  “So what’s it gonna take to get your old man to return my calls?” Mr. Moretti asked.

  Caroline’s neck stiffened. “You’re asking the wrong person.”

  Mr. Moretti peered around. “Is he here?”

  “No. He … he wasn’t feeling well.”

  “Maybe you can give him a message.”

  “I’m not his answering service.”

  Mr. Moretti flashed another hard grin. “Relax. I was just gonna say, if he needs anything to be sure to let me know. We grew up in the same neighborhood, your old man and me. He ever mention that? There’s no reason why old neighbors can’t give each other a boost now and again, right?”

  “I can think of a few,” Caroline muttered.

  “Tell him hello in any case,” Mr. Moretti said. “I’ll try him again this week.”

  “Have a good night,” Caroline said, and moved away from him.

  “What was that all about?” I asked when we were out of earshot.

  “Oh, Moretti refuses to accept that the old days are gone. His family used to control construction and trucking in the city. That’s how they built their empire. But as City Hall severed those connections, and other crime families moved in to dominate the vice trades, Moretti’s revenue dried up.”

  I nodded in understanding. “And he wants access to the mayor’s office to try to resurrect his old businesses.”

  “Exactly, but he’s barking up the wrong tree. My father would never work with his kind.” Her gaze moved past me and hardened. She changed course, as though trying to disappear from someone’s view.

  I peeked back, expecting to find Moretti tailing us. Instead, another man stood out, mostly for his tall, broad-shouldered build—and yeah, stellar looks. His copper hair and stone-hewn face belonged in a men’s fitness magazine. Though engaged in conversation, he was clearly watching us, or at least Caroline.

  Old flame? I wondered, a knot of jealousy hardening my gut.

  Caroline squeezed my wrist. “This is Everson Croft,” she said.

  I turned distractedly and then nearly dropped my cane. I was standing in front of a smiling Mayor Budge Lowder and his wife, Penny. I’d seen both on TV and in the papers, of course, but never in person.

  Budge seized my hand and began pumping away. “What do you say there, Everson?”

  Despite being on the far side of fifty, Budge Lowder had a boyish look. It was a combination of his baggy tuxedo, chubby face, and the dark cowlick he kept finger-combing to keep from spilling over a pair of round glasses. The look was almost comical, but I remembered Caroline once saying that only a fool would judge the man on appearances.

  “It’s an honor to meet you,” I said.

  “Hey, when you show up with a knockout like this,” the mayor replied, cocking his head toward Caroline, “the honor’s all mine.” He clapped my shoulder and broke into hearty laughter that put me at immediate ease.

  “Behave yourself,” Caroline told the mayor, frowning in disapproval. “Everson’s a colleague.”

  “Oh, yeah? Over at Midtown College?” Like a switch had been flipped, Budge went from being a barroom pal to a sober uncle, his large brown eyes turning soft with interest. As Caroline fell into conversation with the mayor’s wife, the mayor edged closer to me. “What do you teach?”

  “Ancient mythology and lore,” I replied.

  “Yeah? I’ve got a small collection of the Greek myths.”

  I raised my eyebrows. That was farther than I got with most laypeople on the topic.

  “I devoured those stories as a kid,” he went on. “All those heroes and creatures. But the human condition’s in there too, isn’t it? The good, the bad, the absurd.” He gave a sad laugh as he peered around. “I should know. I live it everyday.”

  Even though he was a political personality and no doubt working me for a vote, I caught myself nodding sympathetically. Stuck between the developers, debt-collectors, mob bosses, vampire bankers, and six million mostly-struggling New Yorkers, I would never want the man’s job.

  “Oh, hey.” Budge perked up. “I haven’t introduced you to my better half.” He placed his arm around his wife and, without asking, pulled her from her conversation with Caroline. “Honey? This is Everson Croft. He’s an expert in mythology over at Midtown College.”

  I noticed that he’d upgraded me to expert. This guy was good.

  Penny’s handshake was soft, almost apologetic. Indeed, with her pretty, pale features and quiet voice, she seemed Budge’s polar opposite. I found my sympathies shifting to her.

  “Pleased to meet you,” she said.

  “Oh, and he and Caroline are tying the knot,” the mayor added with a prankish grin. He flinched when Caroline swatted his shoulder. “Hey, I can foresee these things!” he protested.

  “Do you have any advice for us?” I asked, giving him a conspiratorial wink.

  The mayor straightened and cleared his throat as though he were about to deliver an important speech, then relaxed with a smile. “It’s pretty simple, kids. Know when to agree, when to disagree, and when to agree to disagree.” He looked over at his wife. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

  She gave a forbearing smile. “Whatever you say, Budge.”

  The mayor laughed and hugged her to his side. “That works too.”

  “Well, if you’ll excuse us.” Caroline took my arm. “My fiancé and I have a wedding to plan.”

  That got the mayor slapping a thigh. “Hey, we expect an invite!” he called after us.

  The men and women who had been waiting for an audience with the mayor shoved into our wake.

  “He’s fun,” I said.

  “Yeah, until he’s not,” Caroline replied thinly.

  I waited for her to explain, but we had arrived at a spiral staircase that she seemed determined to climb. Two twists later, and we were on the gallery level. A comma formed between Caroline’s eyebrows as she scanned the sea of guests below, probably looking for the man who had been tracking her. I followed her gaze, but couldn’t spot him.

  We continued along the gallery, passed through a set of glass doors that opened onto a balcony, and stepped outside. A cool breeze ruffled Caroline’s gown. I removed my tuxedo jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

  “You’re a gentleman,” she said.

  “I try,” I answered.

  “You are trying, aren’t you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, for starters, you’re getting to your classes on time. I can’t remember the last time I had to cover for you. You’ve been attending all of the faculty meetings. You’ve upgraded your wardrobe. You even smell nicer.” A small smile played at the corners of her lips. “If I didn’t know better, Everson, I’d say you were trying to impress someone.”

  I felt my face flush. “Or trying to keep Snodgrass off my back.”

  She made a skeptical sound. “Well, I’m impressed, anyway.”

  Impressed enough to agree to a second date?

  We were leaning our elbows on the east-facing rail, taking in the dark expanse of Central Park. From our high vantage, its dangerous wilds and moonlit reservoir held a certain romance.

  Now was the time to make my bold confession about wizarding. My heart slammed harder as I opened my mouth. But when I turned, Caroline’s brows were bent in distraction.

  “Is, ah, everything all right?” I asked.

  “Hm? Oh, fine.” She was holding my jacket closed at her neck. “These kinds of events tend to overwhelm me. It might not look it, but I prefer observation to participation.”

  Nice try. But you’re trying to bullshit a bullshitter.

  “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

  “Yes, Everson.”

  Despite our flirtatious banter of only moments before—and that we still had the balcony to ourselves—a formality had grown between us, harde
ning the air. And I knew it had everything to do with the man she’d spotted inside. I turned so my body was facing hers.

  “If you ever need help with anything,” I said, “you only have to ask.”

  She gave a ghost of a smile. “I know, Everson. Thank you.”

  All right, that went nowhere.

  I was debating whether to ask her pointblank about the mystery man, when I realized we were no longer alone. Someone was standing just outside the glass doors, about ten feet behind us.

  “Caroline?” a voice said.

  I turned to find tall, dark blond, and handsome stepping toward us. He moved with the purpose and elegance of young royalty, but there was something else going on with him. Something I hadn’t picked up in the crowded reception hall. The man’s aura. He wasn’t human, but a full-blooded faerie.

  3

  I moved in front of Caroline, my grip tightening around my cane. New York’s fae were among the oldest families in the city. Lords of great wealth, they operated on the periphery, their motives alien. They also wielded magic, including glamours to appear human. That made me feel a little better about the man’s divine looks, but if that magic was a threat to Caroline…

  “It’s all right.” She rubbed my back. “Everson, this is Angelus,” she said coolly.

  Geez, even his name sounded divine.

  The fae crossed the remaining distance in three easy strides and offered his hand. He had a good four inches on my six-foot frame, and I had to look up a little to meet his slate-blue eyes. His shake was sturdy and polite but hummed with energy. A small head tilt told me he felt my energy, as well.

  Neither of us said anything, as though reaching a silent accord between extraordinary gentlemen.

  After another moment the fae being released my hand and turned to Caroline. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  “You are, actually,” Caroline said.

  “If I could just speak with you for a few minutes.”

  “I already told you we had nothing to discuss.”

  My gaze moved between them, wondering what in the hell kind of relationship Caroline could have with a full-blooded fae.

  “You’ll want to hear what I have to say,” Angelus said, his handsome eyes steady on hers. “It involves your father.”

  That seemed to give Caroline pause. She sighed as she turned to face me, her set expression letting out a little. “Would you mind if I stepped inside for just a moment?”

  “As long as you’re okay,” I said.

  “I’ll be fine. We’re not going far.”

  Not wanting to appear the insecure date, I nodded my assent.

  She gave my hand a squeeze, then passed through the door Angelus had opened for her, my jacket still over her shoulders. As Angelus closed the door, our eyes met briefly. I could read nothing in his.

  He and Caroline took up a position along the rail of the gallery, visible beyond the diaphanous curtains covering the doors. I turned back toward the Park, but kept the two in my peripheral vision. The fae’s distance from Caroline appeared respectful as he began to talk, Caroline facing him with crossed arms.

  I was speculating on what they could be discussing—something about her father?—when a series of high-pitched beeps sounded. I looked around in confusion before realizing the sound had come from my pants pocket.

  The pager.

  I drew it out, its cold-iron case doing the job of protecting its circuitry from my magical aura. (I’d tried the same with a cell phone, but no dice—a lot of smoke, though.) I recognized the number flashing on the display. Detective Vega had been working doggedly for the last several months to set up her unit in homicide, crimes that didn’t fit the usual mold. She had also been holding me to my agreement to act as a consultant.

  I looked from the pager to Caroline and back.

  “Crap,” I whispered.

  I opened the glass doors and poked my head inside. Angelus, who had been saying something about a “fair exchange,” stopped as he and Caroline noticed my presence.

  “Sorry,” I said to Caroline. “I just received a page I need to return. Do you know if there’s a telephone around here?”

  “You can use mine.” She began to unsnap her small purse.

  “No, no, I’ve, ah, never been able to figure those things out,” I stammered, which was to say I didn’t want to explode her three-hundred-dollar device. “I was thinking of a landline.”

  “There’s one in the guest bedroom,” Angelus said. “Through that door.” He aimed his gaze past me, toward the far end of the gallery, and took a half step back, as though my presence were making him uncomfortable. I looked at Caroline, who gave a small nod as if to say, I’m all right.

  “Okay,” I replied, in a tone I hoped sounded like a warning to Angelus.

  I noticed that he waited until I reached the indicated door before he resumed speaking. Though I tried, I couldn’t make out anything said above the steady swell of conversation coming from the lower level.

  Caroline’s a tough cookie, I reminded myself.

  Yeah, but did she know who she was dealing with? Not everyone was willing, or able, to see the supernatural dimension of the city. And in the years I’d known Caroline, she had never brought it up herself, always hewing to the rational, the mundane. No, I was all but certain Caroline didn’t know who he really was. Furthermore, I was certain this Angelus—if that was even a real name—was deceiving her, something the fae were known for.

  I flipped a light switch in the elegant suite and spotted the phone on an antique desk to my right. To reach it, I passed the foot of a sumptuous king bed that reminded me of something else the fae were known for. Seduction.

  I left the door open a crack, and then moved the phone to the desk’s end, where I could still see a thin slice of Caroline and Angelus down the gallery. Too much? Maybe, maybe not.

  I consulted my pager and dialed.

  “Vega,” she answered after one ring.

  “Are congratulations in order, Detective?” The last time we’d talked, a month earlier, her new unit had been far from a sure thing.

  She ignored my question, posing her own. “Where are you?”

  “At a fancy little gala on the Upper West Side,” I replied, then mumbled, “watching my date being hijacked by a being who shouldn’t exist.” I leaned over to see them better through the door.

  “Give me an address and I’ll have someone pick you up.”

  “Why?” I asked. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Homicide?”

  “Plural, and they’re unusual. I need you to take a look.” She wasn’t asking.

  I craned my neck until it started to stiffen. Caroline was gesturing in what appeared frustration while Angelus listened with small nods, hands behind his back. I really didn’t like the idea of leaving Caroline alone with him, though whether out of concern now or jealousy, I couldn’t say.

  “Croft,” Vega snapped.

  Through the fuzzy connection, I could make out the chatter of a police-radio and the rise and fall of sirens. It sounded serious. I pivoted the phone from my mouth to exhale in frustration, then dug for the slip of paper onto which Caroline had jotted down the address for the gala.

  “You ready?” I asked, and read it to her.

  4

  “You’re leaving?” Caroline asked.

  “Yeah, an emergency came up.” I flashed the pager as though offering proof. I glanced over at Angelus, who had stepped back to give us space, and moved closer to Caroline. “I’ll explain later,” I told her.

  And maybe you’ll return the favor.

  “Well, all right,” she said, eyes dark with disappointment. “Oh, your jacket.” She removed it from her shoulders and helped me into it, making me feel like even more of a dipshit.

  “I’ll give you a call tomorrow,” I said, “make sure you got home okay.” I kissed her cheek. As I stepped past Angelus, I shot him a look that said, If you lay a finger on her, so help
me God, I will hunt you to the ends of this world and any others you try to hide in and gut you like a goblin.

  He responded with a vague nod.

  Outside, I paced the front of the building, cursing the timing of Vega’s page. I had just walked out on a first date with Caroline Reid—the woman I’d been pining after for two years—and left her with an immortal. Whatever Vega was calling me to had better be good.

  It wasn’t long before a dark blue sedan pulled up, the driver side window sliding down. I groaned. The hefty man with a wreath of tight brown curls was an associate of Vega’s. He had been a little too eager to deliver my pencil for a bite-mark analysis in the fall, I remembered.

  “You gonna make me idle here all night?” Hoffman asked in a brusque New York accent.

  I dropped into the passenger seat and slammed the door, inhaling a stale fusion of coffee and baked-in cigarette smoke. I kicked around some fast-food bags until I had enough foot room, then buckled in and peered over at Hoffman. “So where are we headed?”

  He ignored my question and circled the block. “For the record, I don’t agree with this thing here.” He gestured between us, though I knew he meant the NYPD contracting me as a consultant. “Ask me, you’re a con man, and the worst kind.”

  “Tell me what you really think.”

  “Demons and hocus pocus?” He snorted. “You lifted that straight from television.”

  “I read too, you know.”

  “Twenty years I’ve been out here, and I haven’t seen anything that couldn’t be explained by common sense and good policing.”

  “Maybe that’s why you’re taking orders from a fourth-year detective,” I suggested.

  The balls of Hoffman’s greasy cheeks turned red. “And hey, I know that was you who called, trying to get Vega’s address and number. Think I’m stupid?” He was referring to the night in October when I’d tried to warn her about an imminent shrieker attack. “You impersonated a police detective,” he went on. “That shoulda got you five years, right there.”

  “Instead, I got the rest of my probation wiped.” I smiled with as many teeth as I could. “Funny how that worked out.”