After the meeting with the Mayor, I felt squeezed dry. Outwardly, I tried to keep a brave face, but inside I was completely drained. We hadn't decided anything, de Camp hadn’t even agreed to meet with Bryce, though he had promised to call tomorrow. I held it together until Knuckles pulled out onto the road; then I deflated like a soap bubble and melted into the seat.

  "Another block," I told Clint, "and pull up near a phone box."

  "There’s a copper nearby," he warned.

  "Let him be."

  Knuckles slowed by the kerb. I got out and greeted the constable politely: "Evening, sir," and closed myself off with the red phone box door. I dialled Ellie. Thank God it was her who answered, not Garfield, that nutcase of a brother.

  "Hey, baby, we're calling off tonight."

  "Something happen?"

  "I’m just tired. Met with de Camp, he scrambled my brains. I’m not in the mood for a walk, I feel like a lump of dough."

  "Then come over. I’ll knead you out..."

  "What an improper suggestion, madam! Are you implying a massage?" I perked up slightly.

  "A massage. Not whatever filthy thing you’re imagining, perv."

  "Public opinion doesn’t always see the difference."

  "Duncan, don’t piss me off! You coming or not?" She was pressing now.

  On the one hand, I wanted to. On the other…

  "No one home?"

  "Mum and Marcus. Dad’s out on an emergency call with Garfield. Something to do with Lady Pattison’s poodle."

  "Then no," I said firmly. In this kind of mental state, I’d get worked up too easily, get nothing out of it, and suffer. Not just suffer — SUFFER.

  "I've still got to check in with the clan anyway," I lied. I hate lying and I’m bad at it, but saying the real reason was too embarrassing.

  "Which is why you asked who was home first?" Ellie shot back.

  Brilliant. Now she was offended. I told you, I’m a terrible liar.

  "Sorry, babe. It’s just... you get to me, and tonight I…"

  "Stop mumbling! Speak like a man!"

  Now that tone? That I don’t tolerate.

  "If I come over tonight, we’ll end up doing exactly what Finella and Simon get up to."

  "Who says I’d let you?!" she challenged.

  "I’m not in the mood to ask permission!" I snapped and slammed the receiver down, nearly breaking the lever. Stubborn goat!

  The constable, who had respectfully stepped aside and shouldn’t have heard anything, gave me a sideways look through the booth window. I made a half-hearted apologetic gesture and dialled Albert McLal to say I’d be arriving soon.

  The call with Ellie had woken me up, but in the worst way. A bitter kind of energy I could’ve done without. She’s clearly seeing things from her own little tower, not mine. And how could she not get it? Her father’s a vet — surely she knows that desire is basic instinct!

  By the time I got back into the car, I was seething like a werewolf on a full moon. Even Knuckles held his tongue. Fortunately, I cooled off by the time I reached the McLals, and slipped into business mode. I had planned to go home straight after, but Burke intercepted me.

  "You promised to show me the city, dear cousin," he said.

  "Not tonight, Burke. I’m dead on my feet. I even cancelled a date."

  "Come on, it’s not even half past nine. A couple of hours at a club won’t kill you." He slapped me on the shoulder. "Donald lent me his Martin for the evening."

  I sighed. "We’ll take my Cooper."

  "Martin’s faster. Looks cooler."

  "My windscreen can stop a burst of machine gun fire. Armour-piercing rounds."

  "Is this city really that dangerous?"

  "At times."

  Burke agreed but added a condition: if we were sacrificing speed, we could at least stop for a pint. I tried to back out, said Knuckles’ shift was technically over, but then I thought — why not? It had been a rough day, I hadn’t had a drink in ages. Time to unwind a bit, just not too much. I’ve always had a good sense of moderation, and Burke wasn’t known for overindulging either.

  I suggested a couple of quiet pubs I’d visited before, but the nephew turned them down in favour of a club with girls.

  “I’ve got a girlfriend, in case you’ve forgotten,” I reminded him.

  “I don’t,” he parried. “And I’ll need something to do once you toddle off to bed.”

  A club it was, then. I picked a decent venue from the top tier. Back in the 1900s, it had been the city’s prime hotspot. These days its fame had dimmed a little, but it had gained polish and style — vibes of an old music hall. In fact, that’s exactly what it was called: The Marie Lloyd Music Hall, and the show always included cheeky songs pushing the limits of decency. It wasn’t The Tear, but neither was the crowd as problematic.

  Burke declined a table and made himself comfortable at the bar, ordering a gin for himself, a beer for me, and some peanuts. A slow, lyrical number played in the background as we launched into conversation. My cousin wanted the scoop on my progress in magic: mastering energy nodes and spells, combat training, enchantment work, as well as my connections with vampires and the political scene in the city and within the clan. I, in turn, was curious about his trophies, any rewards from Ferrish, and new firearms tech.

  By the time my second pint was empty, I was feeling just a little too good, which, for me, always rang alarm bells. I scanned the room and noticed a pair of women sitting at the table behind us: one in a dark red dress, the other in yellow. They sipped crimson cocktails and stared at us with an almost predatory gleam. They looked older than me but younger than Burke, though with women, who really knows? They didn’t seem like vampires, at least.

  “Two behind us. With the cocktails,” I muttered, on edge.

  “Yeah, I see them,” Burke grinned. “What, you planning to make a move? What about your beloved?”

  “What are you talking about?” I frowned. “They might be a threat.”

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  Burke choked on his gin, coughed, then burst into laughter. I was left confused and slightly offended.

  “You’re drunk, mate! Bartender, get him a lemonade. Duncan, if they’re dangerous at all, it’s financially, and maybe venereally, if you’re into that,” Burke added with a smirk. He leaned past me and waved to the girls. “You’ll see.”

  “Bartender, one more gin and a couple of whatever those ladies are drinking. When we head over, have a waiter bring two chairs — on my signal. For your trouble.”

  I didn’t catch the denomination of the bill that disappeared beneath the bartender’s hand, but he gave the nod and quickly got to work. Another splash of gin for Burke, then he mixed up two wide-rimmed cocktails of rum, wine, and cherry liqueur. Burke grabbed his gin and one of the cocktails, motioning for me to carry the other.

  “Ladies, may I treat you to a drink?” Burke set his glass down in front of the woman in red, his chosen target. I felt a bit awkward, so I said nothing, placing mine before the second woman.

  “I’m Burke Kinkaid, Baron of Oldstone. And this is my cousin, Duncan, Baron of Loxlin.”

  “Two cousin barons?” the girls echoed. “Are you serious?”

  Burke snapped his fingers, summoning the waiter with the chairs.

  “The Kinkaid family tree is a tangled mess,” he said smoothly. “But I’d be happy to explain it, if you like.”

  While Burke was weaving charm and genealogy, I sipped my lemonade and sobered up a little. Claudia — the one in red, and Angela in yellow reminded me of vampires mainly because of their outfits. That night when I got banned from The Tear, the vampire mothers were dressed similarly. These girls wanted our blood too, but only figuratively, and in a much more mundane sense: two young guys with hereditary rings on the left ring fingers. Titled. And if we weren’t orphans, our parents likely held even higher titles.

  Yeah. Big screw-up. That’s what stress gets you. Time to head home before I really blow it.

  “Duncan Kinkaid!”

  A familiar voice snarled behind me — Finella. Then she grabbed my left ear like a pit bull. “You absolute dog! Have you lost your damn mind?!”

  Simon, a step behind her, smacked her wrist and pulled her hand off me. “Behave yourself!” he hissed.

  “Ellie’s at home crying, and he’s out here with…”

  Whatever insult she had loaded, Simon clamped her mouth shut with his hand.

  “My apologies, ladies,” he said with a bow. “And you, watch your words and who you’re speaking about!”

  Wait, what? Were these girls actually…?

  “It’s Duncan! Mr. Honourable Snob! He couldn’t cheat if he tried!”

  Finella bit Simon’s hand and he had to pull it back.

  “Then why the hell is Ellie crying?!”

  “None of your business, Spark!” I snapped. “One more outburst like that, and I’ll deal with you myself!”

  There was fire in the redhead’s eyes, figuratively speaking, but the fireball in her hand was very real. I didn’t back down either: crystal blades slid from my sleeve, their faceted edges catching the light like fangs.

  "Duncan?" Burke asked, waiting for my permission.

  "Sit down!" I snapped, far more sharply than I intended.

  Kettle rolled his eyes, touched a finger to the fireball. A crack of lightning snapped through the air, Finella squealed, and the fireball fizzled out.

  "Simon!" she barked, stamping her heel.

  "Calm down. Even in court, people get a chance to explain themselves."

  "Fine," she huffed, turning to me. "Well? Go on. Justify yourself."

  Kettle slapped his forehead, dragged his hand down to cover his eyes, and groaned. I was momentarily stunned by her audacity. Giving me orders now?

  "Get out!" I told her.

  The baronet dropped his hand.

  "Finny, I love you, but sometimes I swear…"

  The bouncers interrupted before things got worse: two burly shifters and one tall, wiry water sorcerer — the leader of the group.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," the sorcerer said, already leading with the heavy artillery. "You are asked to leave. You're barred from returning for a month. If you protest, the ban becomes permanent."

  Simon clamped a hand over Finella’s mouth again and offered a smooth apology: "My apologies. Lord Loxlin and his companions had no part in the conflict. I’m to blame, and we’re already leaving."

  Finella clearly disagreed. She grunted angrily and tried to bite his hand again. There was a sharp crackle of lightning, her red curls stood on end like a dandelion, and her eyes went glassy.

  "Apologies again!" Kettle called out as he dragged the staggering Finella toward the exit. It didn’t spare us from the bouncers' judgment.

  The water sorcerer eyed my crystal blades but stood firm in his decision.

  "Gentlemen, ladies…"

  I withdrew the blades into my sleeve and didn’t argue, though I did speak up for the girls.

  "The ladies had nothing to do with this."

  "I'm sorry, my lord, but those are the rules."

  "Then let’s not break them," Burke cut in smoothly. "What do you say, ladies? Shall we take the evening elsewhere? What’s the best club in town these days?" He didn’t skimp, left a twenty on the table.

  "The Golden Tear," Claudia replied.

  "Duncan?" Burke looked to me.

  "I’ve had enough excitement for one night. Besides, I’m banned from the Tear."

  "Oh!" Angela, who’d been quiet until now, gasped and covered her mouth. "You’re Lord Sledgehammer!"

  That drew attention, even the bouncers exchanged worried glances. Not wanting to alarm them, I gestured toward the door and explained as we walked.

  "You've mistaken me for my teacher, miss."

  "No-no, your teacher is Sir Harry — Harry the Sledgehammer, or just Sir Sledgehammer. But you’re the Young Lord Sledgehammer! The papers wrote about you! Last autumn, you helped catch the Archmaker and burn the Gratch’s nest. You and the Special Police Squad."

  "Did they really write about that?" I was genuinely surprised. I remembered the Farnell Daily barely mentioning me and Harry. All the glory went to Sunset as the lead detective, Vixley as the head of Special Ops, and the Chief Constable for organising the whole thing.

  Angela picked up on my reaction and lit up.

  "You said the Gazette lies!" she shot at Claudia.

  "What’s the Gazette?" I asked.

  "The Evening Gazette," Angela clung to my elbow like de Camp’s secretary. "Olivya Foxtrot wrote about you, my lord. She's a brilliant reporter! You should read it — totally worth it."

  I should probably look into this Olivia. Where was she getting her info?

  "I’ll be sure to read it," I promised. We’d already stepped out into the street, and it was time to make my exit. Especially since a tuft of red curls peeked around the corner — Finella. To hell with her. I didn’t care what she thought, but she could twist this into something wild, and then tell Ellie.

  Are you already leaving?" the girl asked sadly, reluctant to let go of my arm.

  "Miss, I'm afraid my cousin's behavior gave you the wrong impression. I have a girlfriend."

  "And no tact, Duncan," Burke sighed.

  "But no room for misunderstandings either. Besides," I nodded toward the ginger hair peeking out from around the corner, timed it perfectly, as Fin poked her head out, caught all four of our stares, and instantly ducked back. "That girl, her best friend, can be rather hot-headed and might try to figure out who I’m spending time with."

  Angela spotted Spark, remembered the fireball, paled, and immediately let go of my arm.

  "All the best, ladies," I said in parting, but instead of heading to the parking lot, I went toward Finella. As much as I disliked talking to her, the alcohol had fully cleared from my system, and I decided it was best to squash the problem early.

  Finella peeked out again, more like a kid now, saw me approaching, and stepped fully into view. Before she could open her mouth and start another fight, I cut her off with a harsh order:

  "Shut it! You can boss Simon around and throw tantrums at him. One more word, and I’ll hand you over to your brother so he can give you a good thrashing." James had a rough temper and might just do it, even though his little sister was already nineteen. Not literally, maybe, but he'd find a way to make her pay.

  "I told her the same thing," Simon chimed in, stepping around the corner.

  "And why are you so polite and tactful tonight?"

  "You wound me!" the baronet said, mock offended. Finella tried to speak up, but Kettle raised his hand sharply and wagged a finger. "Ah-ah!"

  To my astonishment, Spark fell silent, pouted, crossed her arms, and dramatically leaned against the wall.

  "No way! How did you pull that off?"

  "With the greatest of effort," the baronet admitted.

  "I'll hit you," Finella promised.

  "Love you too, dear," Simon replied.

  We stood in silence for a bit before the baronet suggested we find a quiet place to talk. I declined, saying I was tired and heading home.

  "You’ll have to give your side of the story eventually, or Finni will spin something wild..."

  Amazingly, Finella stayed quiet, though she did try to burn Simon to ash with her gaze.

  "My car's over there," I gestured. "We can talk on the way."

  "Works for us," Simon agreed on behalf of them both. "Ours is parked nearby."

  "I was visiting our people in the slums, planning to head home, but Burke convinced me to show him the city."

  "That traveling cousin of yours, right? The clan head's grandson?"

  "That’s him."

  "You two look alike. Go on."

  "Wasn’t planning to chat anyone up. Just noticed the girls watching us, told Burke, and he seized the opportunity."

  "See?!" Simon turned to Finella. "And you were already spinning a story."

  "He has a girlfriend! What the hell was he doing with those floozies? If Burke wanted company, he could’ve gone alone."

  "He couldn’t go alone, there were two of them! Duncan couldn’t refuse out of solidarity."

  "So you're saying you wouldn’t refuse in the same situation?" Finella's voice took a dangerous tone.

  "Uhhh, well, no... I mean, yes... I would refuse..."

  "No, he wouldn't!" I cut in. "And neither would you, if Ellie asked, so don’t give me that!"

  "Who's giving what, that still needs sorting out! First you tell her you’ll break up if she doesn’t sleep with you, and a couple hours later…"

  "Hold up, what?!" I spun around, trying to recall exactly what I’d said to Ellie. Couldn't remember word for word, but I was certain it wasn’t that! "I never said that!"

  "You can't fake that reaction," Simon said. "Look at his eyes — like a fish out of water."