“Nah,” said Wendell as he glanced at his watch. “My motive is profit, not power. I’m strictly in parking and pharmaceuticals, with a side interest now and then in information. The real Power brokers in Devil’s Gate are hard core. There’s an Elf with an affinity to Earth. Caerlovena is her name. She’s got a lock on most of the diggers. Then there’s a Djinn, Malphas, who has a lock on all the casinos, and I mean all of them. And until yesterday, there was Cieran Thruvial, who locked on prostitutes and protection. All the shops and vendors owed him a cut of their take.”
“Cieran Thruvial,” Duncan said. Surprise flickered in his gaze. “I know that name.”
Seremela shook her head. Inside she was reeling again. “That can’t be right,” she said. “I don’t see Vetta turning to prostitution. I guess she could have, but I just don’t see it.”
Wendell shrugged. “Well, the girl read Tarot, or at least that’s what her tent sign said. She charged for quarter hour and half hour readings. She did a good business too, from what I heard. I don’t know if she was turning tricks on the side or not, but like a lot of other shop keepers, she owed Thruvial protection money. They had a tempestuous relationship and argued a lot in public. I gotta say, it seemed real intimate.”
“Where is she now?” Seremela asked, the words scraping in her dry, constricted throat.
“Malphas is holding her until dawn,” Wendell said, and for the first time since they met him, something like sympathy crept into his gaze. “Scary dude, that Djinn. I’m not sure what he cares about, if anything.”
“Thruvial is a Fae name,” Duncan said abruptly. “Was this Cieran Thruvial Dark Fae?”
This time, both Wendell and his guard shifted their attention to Duncan, their expressions sharpening. Speaking for the first time, the guard said, “Yes.”
Wendell asked, “You knew him?”
Duncan’s face had turned expressionless. He said, “I met him once.”
“Where?” The pharmacist looked avid again.
Duncan gave him a sardonic smile. “That’s not part of our agreement, Wendell. Where’s the best place to find Malphas?”
Wendell made a face but said, “Much as he hangs anywhere, I guess it would be Gehenna—that’s the name of his main casino. Get it? Devil’s Gate—Gehenna. Ar ar ar, right?”
Duncan’s dark gaze shifted to her. He asked the pharmacist, “What do we owe you?”
“You’re not going to ask me how to find Gehenna?” Wendell asked.
Duncan shook his head. “We don’t need you anymore.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t be so quick to say that,” Wendell said. “With Thruvial dead, things are shifting. People are making a grab for his territory, and a couple of them are strong magic users. You don’t know who to watch out for, or where to go. You still don’t know anything.”
“Now you’re trying too hard,” Duncan told him. He pulled out some cash and laid it on the counter. “I make it just under fifteen minutes. Keep the change.” He turned to Seremela, his expression softening. “Let’s go.”
She nodded and stepped out of the door, and he followed
Wendell called after them, “You’re making a mistake if you think you don’t need me.”
Duncan shook his head. Once they were outside, he offered Seremela his hand. She took it. His grip was like the rest of him, steady, calm and cool. She gripped it tightly and took a deep breath. The smoke scented night air seemed so much fresher than it had before they had stepped into Wendell’s shop.
“What a scurvy little bug,” she said between her teeth.
“I know. I want to squash him.”
He pulled her around to face him, cupping her elbows in the palms of his hands while he watched the crowd behind her. After a quick glance at his face, she did the same, watching what happened at his back. The red-tinged light from various campfires was indirect. Nearby someone laughed, a sharp sound abruptly cut off. Magic tinged the air, mingling with the physical smells of spilt whiskey and other sour odors.
“Would you leave if I asked you to?” he asked telepathically.
She glanced at his shadowed face quickly. He looked as casual and indifferent as if they were talking about the weather. A few choice responses occurred to her, but she saw too many reasons for why he asked what he did.
In the end she just simply said, “No.”
He didn’t look surprised. He nodded and rubbed his thumbs along the sensitive skin at the inside of her elbows, but she didn’t think he was aware of what he was doing.
“The thing that bothers me is the Djinn,” he said and frowned. “Well, there’s more than a few things that bother me.”
“Who was Thruvial?” she asked.
He met her gaze. “Do you remember that I traveled last year with Carling to Adriyel for Niniane Lorelle’s coronation?”
“Yes,” she said.
She wasn’t likely to forget it.