Thirty-One

 

Cerys was a small, blonde, round-faced woman with sharp brown eyes that betrayed the bubbly smile on her face. She wore flowing skirts in a patchwork pattern and had a semi-transparent shawl around her shoulders. Her wrists jangled with a multitude of bangles. All in all, she was exactly what people have come to expect from a new-age shop owner. Personally, I found her faux-friendly semi-ethereal act tiring, but I remained polite and let Alasdair lead.

“Cerys, Tabitha Hawke sent us to you to ask a few questions,” he said with the full extent of his charm lighting up his features.

A flicker of jealousy formed. I reminded myself that it was just business. Cerys, being a hot-blooded woman, practically swooned at the attention Alasdair paid her. I’ll give it, he’s sexy as sin, but she was pushing the act a bit too far now.

“Come into my parlour, I’m sure we can arrange a trade,” she purred.

Her parlour was a cramped room out behind the shop with a small bright purple sofa and a broad cream armchair that had seen better days. She sat down on the sofa and patted the seat next to her for Alasdair to sit in. I maintained my polite smile and squeezed my legs between the faux-mahogany coffee table and the armchair. My knees were up around my ears when I sat in the armchair, but by the gods, I kept my polite air about me and waited patiently for her to fuss over Alasdair.

“Now, what are you offering in return for my information?” she asked, all airy bounciness gone.

We were dealing with the real hedgewitch now, the businesswoman that had secured a spot in the most expensive part of the city.

“That depends on the information you offer us,” Alasdair said.

“Tell me what you seek.”

“We are looking for the source of the drug Tempo.”

Her mouth split into a gleeful grin.

“I have two names of the men in customs who deal with that. I require something personal in return.”

I bit down a growl. Personal things could be used against the person that gave them.

“I want his moonstone,” she said, turning to me.

I tilted my head a little and gave her my sweetest smile. “Why that?”

I’d been expecting some of our hairs, or breath. She wouldn’t dare ask for our blood, not for information as simple as a couple of names.

She leaned forward putting her elbows on her knees.

“Because you won’t let it go,” she said.

I held her gaze. I’d never been one to turn down a challenge. I’d worn that moonstone for almost four years, but I trusted that the goddess would stop the hedgewitch from using it to control me in some way. The necklace felt heavy in my hand as I removed it and dropped it in the witch’s hand. She rolled it around her palm and smiled.

“Sullivan and Cordal are the two men you’re looking for. You’ll find them on the dock from 10:00 am till sunset. You’ll feel them when you see them,” she said.

“And they’re the two men involved in the import of the Tempo? They will be able to tell us where this drug comes from?” Alasdair asked.

“Yes. They’ll know. If you’ll excuse me, I have customers about to walk in the door,” she said as she squeezed past the coffee table and walked out into the shop.

“You have your sigils now,” Alasdair said with a soft smile.

My hand still went to my neck feeling the space where the stone had lain only a few moments ago. He was right, but it felt odd being without it.

“Come on, we have a couple of men to go and question,” Alasdair said.

I followed him out into the shop and found myself smiling when a trio of young women looked at me appraisingly.

They whispered to each other before they said, “What beautiful tattoos, and how sweet that you match.”

My ego deflated some, but the feeling of success and happiness remained.

“Don’t worry, Niko, you’ll have more men and women swooning over you when we get you fitted for a suit.”

I didn’t dignify his comment with a response. I was not going to be put into a suit. The goddess had already chosen me, if she wanted me in a suit she would have pushed the point by now.

“I’ll get some new jeans before the family get together later. I don’t think I have any without holes in now,” I said.

Alasdair put his arm around my waist. “I’m sure we could find something nice off the rack for tonight while the tailor makes you your bespoke suits.”

“Jeans have served me well so far,” I said.

He grazed his teeth over the tip of my ears sending a shiver down my spine.

“Shame, I was looking forward to taking my time undressing you from a three-piece suit,” he whispered.

I wrinkled my nose.

“I suppose you’ll just have to live with being on the receiving end of the undressing,” I said.