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I had a vague memory of my old boss, Stella, mentioning the Witches’ Council had approached her about marrying a wizard when she’d been younger, and offering to pay her a Bride-Price, a kind of huge reverse dowry, but she hadn’t liked the guy—he was a stuffy prig—so she’d said no.
‘Now the Foundation is far-reaching, and with its backing, and that of their own families, many of its members occupy positions of power throughout the government, financial and legal sectors.’
‘In other words, nepotism rules.’
‘Exactly, Ms Taylor,’ she said. ‘My husband is a wizard, as are my sons. With their co
It sounded good, but— ‘ Whatyouthful indiscretion?’
Chapter Thirteen
‘Helen’s son, of course,’ Victoria Harrier said, ‘the one Mr Panos was talking about. Like me, Helen Crane is from a powerful witch family; she was chosen to marry a wizard, but instead she— Well, Helen developed an infatuation with some boy, and in the age-old way she found herself pregnant. The boy apparently took fright at the responsibility, and once Helen’s son was born, her family, backed by the Witches’ Council and the Foundation, agreed she should give him up to the sidhe.’
I frowned. ‘But her son was still a wizard?’
‘One with no significant family co
Part of me was starting to feel some reluctant sympathy for the teenage Helen, if not the current one. Another part of me was still trying to assess just what Victoria Harrier’s true priorities were.
‘I hope that reassures you, Ms Taylor, that I have your best interests at heart when it comes to dealing with any problems you might meet, especially if they pertain to the fertility curse. I have my grandchildren to consider.’
There was still something not quite right about what she was saying; I just couldn’t pin down what it was.
‘Now,’ she said, ‘I understand that despite not being able to tell us why, you are convinced that “Jane Bird’s” death is to do with the curse?’
‘Yes.’ Damn goddess and her gag clause.
‘And of course, I understand your reluctance to leave the investigation of “Jane Bird’s” tragic death to the police, so I will do all I can to help you with it. The sooner her cause of death is discovered and settled, the sooner you’ll be free to move onto other more certain solutions to stop the curse.’
The pe
‘Let me guess. Lady Meriel is one of your co
She leaned forwards and patted my knee in what I was supposed to believe was motherly concern. ‘Lady Meriel appreciates that it is only natural for you to be worried about having a child under the circumstances, and that you are not going to make the decision to become pregnant until you’ve exhausted all other avenues. If I can help expedite those avenues for you, maybe it will make the final decision easier and quicker for you.’
The limo slowed to a halt and I glanced out the window. Trafalgar Square again. The driver had to be deliberately going in circles so Victoria Harrier could take her time talking to me on Lady Meriel’s behalf. Figured. Absently I scowled at the crowd of tourists gathered round one of huge bronze lions. They were roaring with laughter at the pixie pack dancing a jig along the lion’s broad back. Automatically, I made a mental note: about a dozen of them. Another week and Trafalgar Square would be overrun and the council would be calling Spellcrackers to banish them. Pixies are sort of ugly-cute, even if they are a pain to catch, and I always got the job— Except this time I wouldn’t. Not now I’d resigned. A sick feeling roiled in my stomach. But it wasn’t only the loss of my job making me feel ill, it was the goddess’ command: You will give them a new life.
If the fae knew that, I’d probably end up pregnant within the hour. Now that was a scary thought. But they didn’t, and ironically, it was thanks to the goddess’ totally wonderful gag clause.
I grimaced and turned back to Victoria Harrier. ‘In that case, why don’t we start by looking into those other avenues now, seeing as I’m not going anywhere?’ I said, drily, and settled back against the seat—it was either that or force my way out of the limo. I was saving that option for later.
‘Perfect.’ She pulled a notepad and pen towards her, unable to hide the hint of triumph in her eyes. ‘Lady Meriel is concerned at the lack of information available to her. I’m told the kelpie, Tavish, who lives in the Thames has been absent since Hallowe’en. The consensus of opinion is that he’s gone to the Fair Lands to speak to Queen Clíona on your behalf. Has he had any success?’
‘Not that I’ve heard.’
She made a note. ‘I understand that your father is a vampire; have any of the fae commented that this could cause a problem, or made any objections?’
I frowned. ‘Why does Lady Meriel want to know that?’
She blinked at me as if surprised I was asking, then tapped her pen and said firmly, ‘Please answer the question, Ms Taylor.’
‘As far as I know they don’t care,’ I said slowly, curious as to what was going on.
‘Good.’ She made another note and underlined it. ‘Now, I think we should talk about your 3V infection.’ A vaguely familiar gleam lit her eyes for a moment, sending an uneasy tingle down my spine.
‘Well, it’s not exactly a secret any more, but I’m not sure it’s any more relevant than your last question.’
‘I believe it’s relevant to you, Ms Taylor. You have stated your reasons for not wanting a child are because of possible implications for the child’s future, an entirely understandable and commendable concern.’ She nodded in approval. ‘But as I told you, Ana, my daughter-in-law, also has 3V; she controls it using G-Zav’—the vamp junkies’ methadone—‘yet Ana is } expecting her sixth child—her sixth healthychild—and I can reassure you that all of my grandchildren are completely clear of 3V: there’s no sign of V1 , V2 or V3 in their blood at all. 3V is not passed on from mother to child in the womb. She’d be delighted to chat to you about it all, and it might help to put your mind at rest.’
‘I volunteer at HOPE,’ I said, ‘and believe me, it’s not the physical implications that worry …’ I trailed off as the picture of her happy, smiling, verypregnant daughter-in-law came back to me, and several things hit me at once. She had 3V. She was faeling. She was on G-Zav, had been for at least ten years—and while she wouldn’t have quite the same problems using G-Zav as a full-blood fae would, that was a major feat in itself. The only place she could get G-Zav was HOPE, and if any faeling was a regular there, I’d know them.
And I didn’t know her.
My tingle of unease grew fangs and took a bite out of me. I looked around the plush car at the expensive equipment: wealth and power and magic are as attractive to vamps as blood. This family had it all … and it was begi
‘Something’s worrying you now, isn’t it, Ms Taylor?’ Victoria Harrier’s probing question focused my attention back on her, and on the familiar gleam in her eyes.