Informative Visits
If Beth had thought that the idea of Ronan on a bus was bizarre, Ronan at a diner was even worse. But twenty minutes later they all piled into a booth at Lucia’s Bacon Shack. Nestled between Benji and a window, Beth picked up her menu.
“You guys didn’t have breakfast either, huh?”
“You were the priority,” Benji said. His right side was plastered to her, like he was afraid she’d disappear again if he stopped touching her.
Sebastian’s stomach growled loudly.
“Are you well enough to continue on after this, Elizabeth? Or would you rather go home and sleep first?” Ronan’s exquisite eyes were sliding over the menu.
Beth took quick inventory of her body. “I’m okay, actually. Well rested. Whatever Tri used on me made me sleep like a baby in a coma.”
Benji glanced at her sideways, angrily. “Stop sounding so cheerful. You were drugged and kidnapped.”
Beth ignored him. “Did you sleep?” she asked Ronan.
Ronan didn’t respond, just turned the page on the menu.
Sebastian glanced at his friend and snorted. “No. He didn’t sleep.”
“I’m fine. I don’t sleep often,” said Ronan.
A waitress approached, and everyone placed their order. Ronan got pancakes and sausage, a slight variation on Beth’s french toast and bacon. She added sugar to her coffee and stirred idly. Images of Trina overtook her. She was going to miss that silly, betraying nymph. Beth hoped her and her family were all going to be alright.
Sebastian kicked her under the table and she blinked up at him. “What?”
“Just making sure you’re with us.” He grinned. “So what are the newlyweds up to today?”
Beth looked at Ronan who cast a suspicious glance around the restaurant. “We’re going to attempt to track down a criminal in New York City. It might take us a few days.”
Sebastian whistled low. “Who’s in the city?”
“Sylviana.” Ronan sipped his water.
“Sylvie? What’d Sylvie do?” Sebastian sounded surprised.
“As far as I can tell, she’s smuggling.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows shot up. “No shit? Well, if you find the old girl, say hi for me.”
Benji sipped his orange juice and stared past Beth out the window.
“It’s going to be okay,” Beth said quietly to him.
He didn’t respond, simply continued to gaze outside with that dull, melancholy look. Beth wasn’t sure if he was more upset about her marriage and subsequent obligations or about Trina’s treachery. She laid her head on his shoulder.
The waitress came back with the food, skillfully distributing the plates around the table.
“Anything else I can get for you?” she asked, looking only at Ronan.
He blinked up at her, looking for a moment like someone caught in the headlights, like he hadn’t expected anyone in the mortal realm to find him attractive. Then the shuttered neutrality took over and his scowl returned. He muttered a “No.” and she was gone, probably flustered.
Beth shared an amused glance with Sebastian.
“What’s the matter?” Benji asked Ronan. “You’ve got to be used to women hitting on you.”
Ronan cut into his pancakes. “I’ve got a wedding band on.”
“So?”
“So I thought the advances would stop. I am obviously not a suitable mate, as I am already claimed.”
Beth’s cheeks warmed at the thought of ‘claiming’ Ronan and all that might entail.
Sebastian started to laugh and Benji joined in.
“The world doesn’t work that way, man,” Sebastian said. “Infidelity runs as rampant as fleas on a wild dog.”
Ronan’s scowl deepened. “She could at least have been subtler about it. My wife is sitting right there.”
Beth glanced down at her ring finger, currently resting on Benji’s arm under the table. “I wasn’t being too obvious, sorry.”
“Yeah Beth, what a horrible wife,” said Sebastian with a wink.
She laughed and flipped him off, then started in on her breakfast.
A well-fed half an hour later, Ronan paid and they all stood. He tossed the receipt with the waitress’ number into the trash and they headed outside.
“This is where we party ways then,” Sebastian said, hands in the pockets of his jeans.
Benji turned to Beth and pulled her to him, hugging her a goodbye that made her heart hurt.
She put her arms around his neck. “I’ll be back soon,” she said, hoping it was a promise she could keep.
“Be careful.” His voice was muffled in her shoulder.
“Sure thing.” She kissed his forehead, trying to offer some small amount of comfort.
Sebastian hugged her too and then they climbed onto Sebastian’s bike and headed home. Ronan and Beth would go the opposite direction.
She followed Ronan across the rough gravel parking lot to his motorcycle. The noon sun hurt her eyes, so she was glad for the helmet he handed her. Ronan swung his leg over and she followed suit, fitting snugly against his back, her arms wrapped around his middle.
“It’s four hours to New York, isn’t it?” she asked, preparing herself for a long ride.
“This is a fae-made bike,” was his only response.
“What does that mean?” she asked, visions of Hagrid’s flying motorcycle filling her mind.
Ronan’s chest vibrated, and Beth got the sinking feeling that he was laughing. Then he pulled the throttle and the beast came to life between her legs. She gripped the Knight more tightly and waited for takeoff.
She was not disappointed. The ride from the woods to the diner had been a leisurely race between Ronan and Sebastian. It had been fun. This was terrifying. She felt like Ronan had hit a warp drive button. Houses and cars sped by so fast that they became a blurred mix of color and sound. Two or three minutes later, they slowed to a stop, and Beth felt like she’d just been on a roller coaster.
Beth became aware first of the acrid smell of piss and oil, then noticed the skyscrapers. She was still clinging to Ronan, her hands clasped tightly in front of him and her cheek pressed into his back.
“Did you just open up a wormhole?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
“The bike is designed to manipulate reality. It wasn’t so much a hole as a fold.”
Beth worked to disentangle herself from him while her mind struggled to wrap around his explanation. A fold in reality? Okay.
“You’ll get used to it,” Ronan informed her. He stood and Beth nearly tumbled off the bike backwards, but he caught her hands before she could fall. “Just take a deep breath.”
She followed instructions and soon they were both off the bike. Ronan kept an arm around her shoulders and she was grateful, her legs felt like overcooked ramen. He steered her toward an alley a block or so down and the scent of asphalt and garbage was so prevalent that it reminded her of the Hedge. The broken glass didn’t help either. She swallowed, trying to keep her stomach in check while he stopped in front of a brick wall.
“Um,” she said.
“It’s a glamour.” To Ronan’s credit he didn’t sound impatient with her ignorance. On the contrary, he sounded excited, like he was glad to be teaching her.
“Oh.” She saw it now, out of the corner of her eye. A shimmering, like the gate in the Hedge had been.
Ronan knocked, and the sound was knuckles on wood.
The door that wasn’t there opened and a middle-aged looking man in a greasy tank top appeared, raising a nonplussed eyebrow. “What can we do for ya, Knight?”
“Looking to talk to Marlowe.”
Beth shivered, standing behind Ronan.
“I’ll ask if he’ll see you. Wait here.” The door was slammed shut. Ronan didn’t even flinch.
“Why does this feel like a drug deal?” Beth asked, rubbing her arms to stay warm.
“Because Marlowe’s a drug dealer,” Ronan answered, not missing a beat, and not looking at her.
“Ah.”
The door opened again and the same man was gesturing them through. He led them down a long, concrete hallway with bad fluorescent lighting that flickered intermittently. Creepy, but at least it was warm. A black door opened in front of them without the greasy guy touching it, but Ronan didn’t look surprised as he continued through. Beth followed and jumped when the door closed behind her.
This room was a little more detailed. The carpet was a thick, rich green. They seemed to be in some sort of library, with floor to ceiling bookshelves. A fireplace boasted crackling flames and there were cushy armchairs scattered throughout. In one of them sat a kid who couldn’t be more than fifteen, with dark hair and dark eyes. He steepled his fingers and fixed Beth and Ronan with a thoughtful smile.
“Mac Nevin! It’s been too long. And I hear congratulations are in order.” Marlowe stood and made his way over. He bypassed Ronan completely and taking Beth’s hand in his own. He brought it to his lips. “My god, you are beautiful.”
She blinked at him. “Oh, uh, thanks?”
He grinned and tugged her toward a chair. “Please, be comfortable. It’s an honor to meet you. You’re like the first lady of the Unseelie.”
She settled for leaning against the arm of the chair. “It’s, um, nice to meet you too.”
Ronan moved to stand beside her, his face an inscrutable mask. “Marlowe, I’m looking for Sylviana.”
Marlowe didn’t even look up at him, instead he continued to smile and gaze disarmingly into Beth’s eyes. “I figured,” he said. “Bitch has been taking my business. I was the one that called it in. You have the most unique and stunning eyes, my darling.”
The compliment was unsettling coming from someone who looked like they’d barely finished with puberty. His gaze dropped to the ring on her finger. “And I’m not the only one who noticed. Good job, Mac Nevin. I didn’t think you were the type to be . . .”
“To be what?” Ronan asked.
“Thoughtful.”
Ronan rolled his eyes. “Where can I find Sylviana?”
“Think I’d give that information away for free?”
“You were the one that called it in!” Beth pointed out.
“What do you want?” asked Ronan.
“What do I always want?”
“It looks like you’ve had too much already.”
“I’m going to save it. For later.” Marlowe’s eyes greedily regarded the Knight.
Ronan pulled a knife from the weapons belt around his waist. Beth realized that she hadn’t seen the belt when they were outside. He must have it glamoured. He held out his palm and made like he was about to slice it open.
Beth gaped. The drug dealer wanted blood? What?
“Not yours. Hers. I want to try hers. She’s got to be a noble, or you wouldn’t have been allowed to marry her.” Marlowe reached over and caressed Beth’s bare shoulder. She fought the urge to jerk away.
“Out of the question,” said Ronan, his voice made of steel.
“But Kni -- “
“No.”
“Fine. Then I won’t tell you where to start looking for Sylvie.” Marlowe sniffed indignantly, his hand dropping back to his side.
Ronan groaned. “Don’t make me beat it out of you, Marlowe.”
“You wouldn’t. We’re in good standing. You’d never be able to pay me for information again.” Marlowe sat down in the largest armchair in the room and re-steepled his fingers. He looked at Beth expectantly.
She chewed on her lip. “Why do you want my blood? What are you going to do with it?”
Marlowe’s dark eyes glittered. “I’m going to consume it.”
“Vampires aren’t Fae,” said Beth, confused.
“Not a vampire,” said Marlowe, opening his mouth to reveal circle rows of pointed teeth, reminiscent of a lamprey. Beth shuddered. “Just somewhat similar.”
“How much?” she asked, wondering if she was going to have to go get a transfusion after this.
“Just a taste. A shot, if you will.” He smiled, once again revealing those sharp chompers. Or, more accurately, piercers.
Ronan turned to Beth. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. What harm could giving a little blood cause? He still held the knife, so she held out her right hand to him. He quickly made a shallow cut.
Marlowe was there so fast Beth hadn’t even seen him move, holding a small vial underneath to catch the liquid. It didn’t take long to fill.
Ronan pressed a handkerchief into her hand and she squeezed, stanching the flow as he slid his knife back into his invisible belt.
“Now speak, Marlowe,” he said sternly.
Marlowe brought the vial to his nose and inhaled deeply. He then stoppered it and sat back down in his chair, clutching the blood to his chest like a precious gem. “Sylviana was last seen consorting with Katya.”
This information did not seem to make Ronan happy. His jaw clenched, and his fingers flexed in and out of fists. “What time does Vibe open?”
“Eight,” said Marlowe smugly.
“Any other leads?”
“Don’t want to bump uglies with Katya, Mac Nevin? Or maybe you just don’t want her meeting your gorgeous young wife.” Marlowe’s gaze slid over Beth again like a physical touch. “Not a virgin, but Katya isn’t as picky as she used to be.”
“She was never picky, Marlowe. She just didn’t want to fuck you,” said Ronan.
Beth barely held back her laughter at the unexpected burn from her solemn husband. By the look on Marlowe’s face it wouldn’t have been appreciated. Before he could come up with a retort, she cut in.
“How do you know I’m not a virgin?” she asked.
Marlowe turned his attention back to her. “Your blood. Virgin blood is purer, untainted by the soul-mingling side effects of intimacy. That’s why gods prefer virgin sacrifices. I like the spiked stuff, myself.”
That was more than a little disturbing. Beth swallowed.
“Leads, Marlowe?” Ronan asked again, sounding bored now.
“You could ask around, but Katya’s your best bet. Just bring condoms. You know how she operates.” Marlowe’s tone was dismissive. “Goodbye, Knight. And it was a pleasure to meet you, Elizabeth Mac Nevin.” Again, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. Beth tried not to react at the thought of the teeth behind those lips.
“Uh, yeah,” said Beth. She was beginning to crave the less creepy atmosphere of the trash-strewn alley.
“Until next time,” Ronan promised. He turned on his heel and gestured for Beth to go first. The greasy doorman did not make a reappearance as they walked back through the concrete hallway and out the door.
“So, condoms?” Beth asked curiously as they headed back to his bike.
“Katya’s a succubus. She deals in sex.” Ronan helped her climb back onto the bike, then took his place in front of her.
“Oh,” said Beth.
Back in her bedroom Ronan had said he sometimes had to fuck for information. This must be one of those times. Irrational jealousy poked at the edges of her mind and she pushed it away. He was her husband, yes, but she’d only just met him a few days ago. Sure, he was sexy as hell, but even Beth didn’t jump into bed with a guy on the first date. And besides, he was Maeve’s play thing. Still, something about the idea of it made her agitated.
“What do we do in the meantime?” she asked.
Ronan started up the bike. “Shake down a few of the local Fae. Buy condoms.”
“Oh.”
Three hours and four fruitless leads later, Beth and Ronan stepped into an empty pub that hadn’t yet been opened for the evening. It was spacious and uncluttered, with wooden fixtures and lanterns. It reminded Beth of the Glen and she felt a pang of longing for her bar. She wondered if her regulars had asked after her. They’d probably heard about the wedding and didn’t need to ask.
“Ronan!” came a happy sounding voice.
It startled Beth. Most of the people they’d come across regarded Ronan with fear or suspicion. But the old man behind the bar was grinning from ear to ear. He was short and somewhat bald with unkempt patches of white hair in odd tufts erupting from his head. He had glasses as thick as Beth’s pinky and dark blue eyes beneath them.
Ronan returned a smile that nearly made Beth crash into a table on the way to the bar. It wasn’t fair what he did to her.
“Dougal,” he said, more warmth in his tone than she’d ever heard.
They each took a seat before him and the man began making Ronan a drink without having been asked.
“It’s been too long, my boy. How are you?” There was that phrase again; ‘it’s been too long’. But unlike the rest of the assholes and low-lifes they’d talked to today, this guy seemed to genuinely mean it.
“I’m well, Dougal. And yourself?” A drink was set before him and Ronan picked it up without question.
“Oh, well enough. I heard Maeve forced you into marriage. What’ll it be, little lady?” This was also the first person they had talked to today who seemed to know the marriage was arranged. Interesting.
“She likes your honeysuckle,” Ronan answered for her before she could open her mouth. She glanced sideways at him.
Dougal chuckled. “Had some of the bottle I sent for your wedding, did ya?” His eyes sparkled as he regarded her.
“I’m pretty sure she had the whole thing,” Ronan said with a chuckle.
Seeing Ronan so at ease was such a shock to Beth that it took her a moment to speak. By the time she had untangled her tongue Dougal had pulled a bottle from a large wooden rack and was endeavoring to uncork it.
“You made it?” she asked.
“I did. I used to be the winemaker for the Unseelie Court.” He managed to open the bottle and poured some into a beautiful crystal glass for her.
She couldn’t help but smile, reaching greedily for the wine. Then a thought occurred to her. “So you’re Sebastian’s mentor?”
Dougal snickered. “Yes, I trained the little rascal. Taught him all he knows.” He turned to Ronan while Beth took a grateful drink. “She’s pretty, at least.”
She nearly choked on the liquid.
Ronan smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Yes. There is that.”
“Still, I’m sorry for the circumstances. I wish you hadn’t been forced into anything.” Dougal looked sympathetic.
Beth tried not to take it personally. It wasn’t as if her friends had been accepting of Ronan either. Well, except for Sebastian and the twins. Rose was probably flipping out. She really should try and find a way to call her. She hadn’t had a chance to collect her phone since being fae-napped.
“Her being a Cavanagh does give her a few brownie points though,” Dougal continued, winking.
“You know Rose?” she asked, perking up. She assumed it was Rose he knew and not her mother. He wouldn’t be winking were that the case. Or maybe he would, because he’d slept with her. That was a repulsive thought.
“Of course,” he said, putting her overactive imagination to rest. “We bar owners have a guild, you know.”
“I miss her. I should call her.” She took another long pull from the wine. It tasted like euphoria on her tongue.
“I’ve been in contact with her,” said Ronan.
“You lied to her about the thing with Tri, right?” Beth could picture her aunt going insane with worry.
“Thing with Tree?” Dougal looked between them, bushy eyebrows raised.
“Elizabeth was kidnapped briefly by a group of nymphs. I took care of it.” Ronan took a big drink of his liquor and Dougal eyed him like he knew there was more to the tale, but he didn’t push. Instead he topped of Beth’s wine.
She gave him another grateful smile. “I’m going to need all the alcohol I can get if we’re really going to do what I think we’re going to do later,” she informed him.
“And what’s that?” Dougal asked.
Ronan grimaced. “We have a visit with Katya to make this evening.”
Dougal laughed. “Have fun, my boy. I haven’t seen Katya in an age, but I’m sure she’s just as demanding as ever. Whether you’re married or not.”
Ronan sighed just as a low buzz sounded and caused Beth to jump. Ronan reached into his invisible weapons belt and pulled out a phone. He glanced at the screen and passed it to her. Flashing across the screen was the word ‘Steward’ and a picture of Rose.
“Speak of the devil!” Beth said tipsily as she hopped off her barstool and tapped the phone to answer. “Rose?”
“Oh. My. God. Finally!” Her aunt’s voice was frantic. “Beth, are you okay? Ronan’s been assuring me but he wouldn’t let me talk to you and your phone’s been off and I just --”
“Rose, I’m okay, I swear.” Beth put her hand over the receiver for a moment and pointed to the outside. Ronan nodded, and she headed that way, slipping out the door. “I’ve just been . . . busy.”
“Busy with what? Having sex with the Queen’s Knight?” Rose had never been one to hold back her thoughts. “I’m sorry I missed the wedding. Fuck, I’m sorry you had a wedding! The Dark Lady knew I’d object so she made sure I had to stay at the Glen. I didn’t even realize what happened until Ronan called me. Honey, are you sure you’re okay?”
Beth leaned against the brick facade of the pub. “I’m sure. I’m … getting to know Ronan. We aren’t having sex. We only just met each other.”
“Mm. But he’s so pretty though.”
“Rose!”
“Sorry, sweetness. I know he’s your hubby now.” There was a long sigh, filled with sympathy as well as worry.
“Rose? I have a question.” Something had been niggling at her mind since her wedding.
“Yes, love?”
“Katherine said that Delphine was running errands for the Queen, but I never saw her pass through the gate. You’d think I’d see her, right?”
There was silence for a moment and Beth’s stomach sank.
“She would come through on your days off now and again. Sometimes even on the days you worked, but before or after your shifts.”
Beth wanted to cry. “Why didn’t you tell me?! You know how much I wanted her to come with Benji and I! I could have found her! Could have --”
“Could have what? Convinced her to go against orders from the Dark Lady? That would have been reckless on her part and you know it. She told me not to tell you. She said she didn’t want any courtly attention drawn to you and her cousin. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Beth bit her lip. She understood Rose’s motivation for keeping the secret, but she was still frustrated. She’d been so close to seeing Delphine again. Sometimes only by a few hours.
“How long has it been since she was last through?” she asked.
“Six months or so.” Beth could hear the bustle of a busy bar behind Rose’s tired breathing. “I miss you, honey. The Glen misses you. I know this marriage is never what you wanted. I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, Ronan is pretty solid. He always comes and tosses out angry drunks when I call. Have you figured out why you were forced to marry him?”
Of course, Rose knew as well as anyone there wouldn’t have been a wedding for no reason. Well, as well as Dougal at least.
“I have, yeah. I’ll tell you later. It has to do with my mother.” She glanced around, suddenly worried that someone could be listening in. “I’m in New York right now. Running some errands with Ronan. Just rest assured that I’m okay. We’re on our honeymoon for a few more days. I’ll try to come visit you as soon as possible. I miss you so much.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Love you.” Rose sounded satisfied, at least for now. She was more of a mom to Beth than Fianna had ever been, though she was young enough that Beth really thought of her more as an older sister.
“I love you too.” She ended the call and took a few deep breaths, her thoughts with Delphine. She looked up at the darkening sky. Evening meant nightfall in autumn. She shivered again and wished she’d had time to grab a jacket. Hopefully the Succubus’ club would be warm.
Beth went back inside and took her seat, sliding Ronan’s phone over to him. The men were talking about Sylviana.
“Smuggling, you say?” Dougal asked. He leaned on the bar now, chin resting on his hand.
“So says Marlowe.” Ronan’s drink was now empty, but he’d either refused a refill or Dougal hadn’t yet made it.
“Marlowe’s such a little prick.” The word sounded extra mean coming from such a jolly looking man.
Beth snorted. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
“I never said otherwise,” Ronan informed her. The alcohol had put a little color into his angular cheeks and Beth was lying to herself if she denied liking it. She found herself staring at him incoherently for a moment, having flashbacks to the kiss at their wedding. She felt her own cheeks heat in response.
“For what it’s worth,” said Dougal, changing the subject. “You two make a fine-looking couple.”
Ronan looked away from her. “It is good to know we are able to look the part. How’s Rose?”
“She’s fine,” said Beth. “Pissed, but fine. I would like to visit her soon, if we can.”
“Sure. We can after we find Sylviana.”
She smiled, reaching for her wine again.
“You two should eat. Nachos sound good?” Dougal pulled on an apron.
They both readily agreed, and he headed to the kitchen.
Over the next hour or so employees started filtering in as the pub prepared to open for the night. Ronan and Dougal chatted while they ate. They parted from him with a promise to return if they needed a place to stay.