Okay then, that was promising. Not. I didn’t much like the sound of any of that, and I had no doubt that if Lowestar Radcliffe was able to wake up this demigod, we’d all be in for a world of hurt.
Using the URL, I followed the path back to see if there was any information about what it was I was looking at. The trail led me to an entry about an archaeological find deep in a group of caverns in Mongolia. Among the antiquities discovered there were a group of scrolls, one of which I’d been reading. They had all been scanned in, but only some of them translated—hence I’d lucked out by finding that one in particular. Who knew what the others held? But by what I could piece together, it appeared that Suvika had originated as either a Mongolian or a Finnish deity—the former seemed more likely.
Considering the power-crazed lust the Khans had possessed, it didn’t seem surprising to find Suvika attached to that culture. Feeling like we had a little more of a handle on things, I finished my notes as the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” I headed to the front door. As I swung it open, a short, thin man with brilliant blue eyes was standing there. He was grace, fluid in motion, and his hair looked like he’d just crawled out of bed but it was a good messy. He was in his late forties, perhaps early fifties, but he looked trim and fit. Dressed in a pair of indigo wash jeans with a button-down silver shirt and a black blazer over the top, he was wearing sneakers—seemingly incongruous to his outfit, but when I took the entire picture in, he made it all work. Daniel had two bottles of what looked like very expensive wine under his arm. I nodded for him to enter and he silently slid past me.
Not sure if he’d remember me, I held out my hand to him. “Cousin Daniel? I’m—”
“Menolly. I remember.” He handed me one of the bottles, then took my other hand briefly, pressing my fingers with a light, deft touch. Just as quickly, he let go and looked around. “Am I early?”
“Not to worry—everybody’s just in the kitchen getting ready for dinner. Come on in and meet the gang.” I wasn’t sure just how he’d react when he realized he was talking to a dragon, a youkai, a demon, an incubus, and whoever else might be hanging around. But we might as well test him out and see how much he was able to stand.
As I escorted him into the kitchen, I put the bottle I was carrying on the table and he followed suit. Camille and Delilah gave delighted little waves. I grinned. Suddenly, it seemed so very cool to have our very own FBH cousin in the room with us.
“You know Camille and Delilah. But the rest—this is part of our extended family.” I turned to Smoky, getting ready to introduce him.
But Daniel surprised us all. He interrupted with a flourish. “Smoky—I hear rumors you might be a dragon? And you”—he turned to Vanzir—“you are some sort of demon, I believe. And unless I miss my guess—Morio, is it? Camille’s second husband and a youkai? And Trillian—her third? A Svartan, I gather. You are all lucky men.”
As he went around, getting everybody’s name and background right, including Hanna’s, I stared at him, openmouthed. How the hell did he know who everyone was? Something about his easy familiarity unsettled me. We needed to figure out just how our cousin was privy to all our secrets.
Chapter 10
“How the hell do you know who everybody is?” Camille beat me to it.
Daniel grinned. “I have my ways. Trust me, I know how to find out what I need to know. And I choose to never go into a situation without knowing everything I can about what it is I’m getting into.” He pointed to the wine. “I hope you like it—I wasn’t sure what to bring.”
I noticed Vanzir slipping out of the room, after a guarded stare at Daniel. He saw me watching him and shrugged, arching one eyebrow, then vanished around the corner and I heard the door close behind him.
Absently picking up one of the bottles, I glanced at the label. Château d’Yquem, 1944. Fuck, this must be one hell of an expensive wine. I glanced up at Daniel. “This looks… I’m not familiar with Earthside wines—for one thing, I can’t drink them. For another, even though I own a bar, I’ve never seen this brand.”
Daniel smiled. “Only the best for my newfound cousins. I have a few bottles of that tucked away.”
Replacing the bottle on the table, I gave him a tight smile. Something felt off here. I glanced at Camille, and she, too, had an odd look on her face.
Morio smoothly interjected himself between Daniel and me. “So why don’t you come on into the living room? Camille, escort your cousin in while I bring some appetizers.” And just like that, he maneuvered Camille over to Daniel’s side and had them walking through the foyer. He caught my eye, nodding for me to wait.
As soon as the pair vanished, Trillian motioned me over to his side, where he was getting ready to take the steaks out to the grill.
“He’s got some game going. I can feel it. Nothing demonic, nothing like that, but he’s playing a line and I have no idea what it is. That wine he brought?” He pointed to the bottles. “I know that brand, believe it or not. And that year? Those bottles? Each easily costs around thirty-five hundred dollars.”
I coughed and Delilah blinked and let out a soft “mew.”
Smoky sidled up. “Not only that, but his outfit? Might look casual but that jacket is expensively made and well tailored.”
“Right.” Trillian nodded. “Your cousin has deep coffers and I’d like to know how he got them. If I remember right, he said he’s a personal shopper? Newsflash: Personal shoppers don’t make much money.” And with that, he picked up the platter of steaks and vanished out to the porch.
I glanced at Delilah. “Okay, then. We find out what he does. Say, where did Vanzir disappear to? I saw him skulk out of here.”
“Not sure. But you know, I don’t think we want Daniel seeing the documents that are on the coffee table. I’m going to go gather them up.” Delilah made a beeline for the living room but I was faster. She was right—we didn’t need him nosing around in what we were doing.
But we needn’t have worried. By the time we got there, Camille had managed to seat him well away from the sofa and the computer. I reached the living room seconds before Delilah, but since she was better with tech than I was, I let her slide behind the computer. She quietly shut it down and gathered up the sheaf of papers, moving them to the corner desk, along with the laptop. I was watching Daniel. He knew something was up; he followed her with his eyes, his gaze landing on the computer, then darting away to once again pick up the thread of the conversation in which Camille was engaging him.
“So, Daniel, do you work out of your home?”
I recognized that tone of voice. Camille had unleashed her glamour. I glanced sharply at her and she flickered a smile to me. She knew. She knew something was up.
Startled, Daniel leaned away, his eyes flashing. A fraction of a second later, he relaxed and gave her a slightly dreamy smile. “You might say that. I don’t have a storefront, if that’s what you mean, though I do have a private office where my… clients can reach me.” Another second and the wariness was back. He was fighting her charm, that was for sure.
“So have you and Hester Lou always lived around here?” I had my own glamour, and cousin or not, I poured it on thick. Time to throw him off the track.
Again, a look of brief confusion crossed his face, but he shrugged and relaxed even further. “We were both born in Shoreline. I served a stint with the ISA, then left and moved back here. Hester bought her coffee shop well over fifteen years ago and it’s been going strong ever since. She caters to the lesbian crowd, and they have a lot of disposable income around here.”
After being Earthside long enough, I would normally have bristled at the lesbian crowd reference, but he said it in such an offhand way that there was no way I could take offense. But the mention of the ISA—the International Security Alliance—was what really caught my attention.
The ISA was an international legal organization involving the United States, Canada, and Europa, focusing on international crime. There were rumors of secret military divisions that made the Special Forces look like kindergarten.
“What did you do in the ISA, Daniel?” I didn’t expect him to answer. That kind of information would most likely be classified under a need-to-know basis. And I was right.
“Sorry, Menolly, but that’s NTK.” He shook his head and his gaze cleared. Apparently, our glamour wasn’t having the usual effect, and ten-to-one, he’d been trained against brainwashing and that was how come he kept phasing in and out.
With a nod, I sat back, unsure of what to say next. Really, we were attempting to interrogate him, which was rude considering he was a guest and our relative, but the truth was: We needed to know what was on the table. Just then, Vanzir entered the room. He looked a little flushed, as if he’d been rushing.
He sauntered over to Daniel, and held out his hand. “Dude, nice to meet you. So you know I’m a demon.”
Daniel shrugged. “It has crossed my desk that you are, yes.”
“Well, my good man, it’s crossed my desk that you’re a thief.” That was Vanzir. Blunt and to the point.
Daniel jerked, his eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”
“Personal shopper, my ass.” Vanzir turned to Camille. “Seems your cousin here has been hiding a rather lucrative career from the police. Perhaps he’d care to come clean unless he wants the authorities to know that he’s one of the most influential, talented cat burglars—for want of a better term—of all time.”
Epic. Silence. Nobody seemed to know what to say, least of all, Daniel. He sat there, silent, a quixotic look on his face.
After a moment, Camille cleared her throat. “Daniel, is this true?”
He shrugged. “You might say that. I suppose now that the cat’s out of the bag, we’d better talk about it. I was going to tell you anyway, when the time was right. Truth is, it occurred to me that forming an alliance with you might benefit the both of us.”
An alliance with a thief. That was a new one, though we’d allied ourselves with far stranger people. And creatures.
“How about you tell us what gives first? Then we’ll decide what to do.” We were back to a place where I was comfortable—leaning on people.
Daniel grinned. “Don’t go all fang-gurl on me, Menolly. I’m not afraid of you. I respect you, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve been up against worse than the likes of you over the years.”
Curious now—the fact that he knew about everyone in the house combined with his lack of fear made me want to know more—I motioned for him to continue.
“Since your friend here decided to investigate me before I could break the news myself, and since I have a feeling there’s no way I can get out of this house without coming clean, then here it is. Vanzir—it is Vanzir, correct?”
Vanzir nodded, nonplussed.
“Very well, then. Vanzir has somehow managed to find out my trade. I pose as a personal shopper, and in a way, that’s the truth. I take commissions from many powerful and influential men and women around the world. And then, I do my best to fulfill their desires.”
“Thief for hire.” I couldn’t help but smirk. It had such a ring to it.
He winked at me. “I prefer to think of myself as a procurer of wondrous and rare commodities. As I said, I belonged to the ISA for ten years, and what I did there, I will never tell anyone. Some memories you do your best to forget. After ten years, I quietly resigned, citing my health, and went about business for another five—cultivating contacts in the art circles, in the antiquities world, among jewelers. I’m blessed with a natural charisma, which against your Fae glamour seems a bit sparse and tacky, I’ll admit. But trust me, I can charm my way into almost any social setting.”
As he spoke, his voice took on a rhythmic cadence. After a few moments, I realized he wasn’t bluffing when he said he had a natural charm. Daniel was gifted, and while he was an FBH to the core, he’d been blessed with the gift of oration.
“So what made you decide to turn thief?” Smoky cut him off, and while he had a smooth, silky voice himself, it was almost as though something big and huge had rammed itself through Daniel’s story.
Daniel gave him a sideways glance. “I have expensive tastes. There aren’t many ways a man can make money. Real money. Good money. The kind of money to keep me situated in the lifestyle I’ve chosen. And I prefer not to steal from those who can’t afford it. I consider my liberation of these objects to be… well… let me just say—most of the items I procure for my clients are investments, more than beloved treasures. I sleep very well at night.”
He sat back, waiting. I glanced at Delilah, who had cocked her head and was staring at Daniel with a bemused look. Camille’s expression read differently. Hands on her hips, she leaned forward.
“Nice whitewash. But really, dude? Let’s face it, you’re a high-class thief, just like a call girl is a high-class prostitute. Only the hooker comes by her money honestly and provides a necessary service.”
“My services are necessary—”
“Oh, please.” She stuck out her tongue and made a pfftting sound that was reminiscent of Delilah and her hairballs. “Necessary for who? Will your clients die if they don’t have that Monet?”
“No, but I might. Consider this: I might die if I don’t make sure they have it. My clients are not prone to being disappointed. On the rare occasions I failed to procure what they wanted, I learned the hard way just how rough some of those high-and-mighty genteel moneyed types can be.” He chuckled, then took off his jacket and pushed up his sleeve. The scars on his arm were nasty. Nasty enough to make even me wince, though it was hard to tell what had happened to him.
