“Maybe later,” I managed. I shot Mago a murderous look.
If Mago didn’t get to laugh soon, he was going to explode.
I just growled.
A growl that stuck in my throat when I saw Rache Kai strolling by the open door with a working girl on his arm. A girl that bore a more than disturbing resemblance to me.
Mago saw what I’d seen, and didn’t even bat an eye. “An old friend of mine.” He smiled in a show of teeth that didn’t look at all friendly.
“Yes, Master Winters arrived a little less than an hour ago. Another of my best customers when he’s in town.”
Mago accepted a cigar offered by a girl who’d appeared at his elbow. All she wore was the bow in her hair. As she lit the cigar, Mago spoke around puffs. “If he’s not too busy, I’d like to catch up with him later.”
“I could send up a message that you’re here.”
“No need, my dear.” Mago leaned in conspiratorially. “I’d like to surprise him.”
Camille laughed. “Understood.”
“Do you know how long he’ll be, ah . . . indisposed?”
One corner of the madam’s mouth turned up in a sly smile. “He paid for the entire night, as usual. He’ll be on the top floor as well, conveniently next to your suite.”
Mago exhaled in a puff of aromatic smoke. “How wonderful.”
My hands itched to get around Master Winters’s throat. Yes, how wonderful.
“I’ll have Milette get your drinks.” Camille’s hand lightly brushed the front of Mago’s trousers before she left.
My cousin sighed with unabashed pleasure. “There goes a truly lovely woman, with an uncanny head for business.”
“You . . . you—”
His eyes sparkled with mirth. “Be grateful, Symon.”
“Grateful?”
“Quite so. I could have told her the truth—that you don’t like women and were once engaged to Master Winters.”
Sitting in Camille’s parlor let us hear all the news there was to hear and then some.
And see even more.
I don’t care what they say about women gossiping, give men some juicy news and they’ll leave women in the dust.
All of this news came to us while being served drinks and little, fancy sandwiches by women wearing next to nothing—or in some cases, nothing at all. One of them bent over to light my cigar. I swear a man could suffocate in a pair of those things. I choked on the first puff. I’d had cigars before, but not with a side order of breasts. Mago saw and winked at me. He was enjoying this way too much.
“So we’re staying here,” I muttered after the cigar lighter and her bounty had moved on. I think my less-than-enthused reaction had hurt her feelings.
Mago took a puff and smiled appreciatively at a blonde sauntering past. “I can’t think of a more perfect hiding place. Would anyone ever think to look for you here?”
“No, but—”
“But nothing. We get rest—and perhaps even consolation.” Mago looked at me, a wicked gleam in his eye that looked entirely too much like Phaelan. “Are you quite certain you wouldn’t like to try some of the consolation offered here? I imagine that few people have the enviable opportunity to become the opposite sex for a night and find themselves in one of the kingdoms’ finest establishments. You’ve literally had the day from hell. You could use something to help you relax.”
“No.”
“A chance to satisfy a curiosity, perhaps?”
“No.”
Mago sat back and took a thoughtful sip of his brandy. “No doubt, Madam Camille will be sending up a lady for the bereft Symon Wiggs.” He shrugged. “I’ll let you decide how to not satisfy your curiosity. Though you could think of this as a bachelor party of sorts. The last fling before you settle down with your paladin.”
“No.”
“Suit yourself. As a man who is a man all the time, I can truthfully tell you that you’re making a mistake.” Mago stood and fastidiously straightened his doublet. “At least I know you won’t go running off to a room with some young beauty while I’m gathering information.”
“That’s happened?”
Mago sighed the sigh of the long suffering. “Just every time I’ve taken Phaelan anywhere. By the time I’ve realized that he’s no longer in the room, he’s usually on his second girl—no pun intended.”
“None imagined.”
Mago engaged several of the men in conversation, and I sat back and listened. Symon’s squeaky voice coming out of Symon’s thin-lipped mouth was about more than I could take right now. So I listened and I learned.
Mychael was alive and unharmed.
I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep myself from reacting. Raine wanted to cry, laugh, and cheer all at once. I had to settle for doing what Symon would do—I tossed back the rest of my brandy and waved a girl over for another.
Tam and Imala had escaped with Prince Chigaru, though Tam was probably in the last place he wanted to be. The prince’s retinue had moved into the goblin embassy. It didn’t matter that Imala was in charge. Having to stay there would have Tam sleeping with his eyes open, if he slept at all.
Mago gestured me over to a relatively empty section of room.
“According to the gentleman with the redhead on his lap, Raine Benares is a very wanted woman.”
“And who’s he to know?”
“The chief magistrate.”
“He would know.”
“So one would surmise.”
“Who’s she wanted by?”
Silence.
“Okay . . . who’s she not wanted by?”
“It’s been my experience that when there’s an arrest warrant out there—with a substantial reward—pretty much everyone is looking, each for their own reasons.”
Shit.
“The watchers would like to question her,” Mago said. “The elven ambassador is feeling keenly embarrassed that one of the elf queen’s subjects is the source of such public concern, and has offered to take her into custody.”
“I’ll bet.”
Ambassador Giles Keril was cozy as could be nestled in Taltek Balmorlan’s pocket.
“Guardians?”
“Patrols are out looking.”
“Damn.”
Mychael didn’t know where I was or what had happened to me. As long as I was glamoured as Symon Wiggs, I couldn’t use my magic, so I couldn’t contact Mychael with our link, and I didn’t dare unglamour. I’d find a way later to let Mychael know that I was safe, or as safe as I could be. Right now I was ready to make the world a safer place for everyone by having a really meaningful chat with Rache Kai.
I put out my cigar in the nearest ashtray. “How about before dinner we go talk to our old friend Master Winters?”
I’d been on the top floor of the Satyr’s Grove before. That’s where the more expensive girls were, and apparently Rache had decided to splurge. Maybe he was consoling himself for missing not only Prince Chigaru, but Mychael as well. That had to affect a man’s confidence. I smiled. If there was any justice in the world, Rache’s sudden lack of confidence meant he probably wasn’t scoring any better in the suite at the end of the hall.
“My, what a dastardly grin,” Mago murmured.
“Just thinking happy thoughts.”
“Vindictive?”
I shrugged. “You have your happy; I have mine.”
Mago flashed a smile and nimbly twirled the room key between his fingers. “Let’s see how thick the walls are between our suite and Master Winters’s.”
I shivered as we walked down the hall, and it wasn’t from cold. The last time I’d been on this floor had been when I’d cornered the naked cathouse client and the evil, ancient elven sorcerer who had possessed him. The sorcerer had escaped from the Saghred and his first order of business had nothing to do with plotting world domination and everything to do with getting laid. I guess when a man spends thousands of years imprisoned inside the Saghred, it gives him a lot of time to think about what he’d do first if he ever got back on the outside.