Moira had gone pale. “Do extend my regrets to Manus, but I believe it best I retire for the evening.”
Tibbet’s smile tightened. “This is the Guildmaster’s house, Cashel. Your presence is not a request.”
Tibbet took my arm and led me through the great hall. She smiled as we eased our way through the crowd and toward the fireplace. A servant was helping Eagan to his feet.
Are you okay? Tibbet sent.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I have no idea what that was about,” I said.
Manus is furious. It’s not good for him. Please try to keep him calm, she sent.
“I will,” I said.
We followed Eagan and the servant into the back hall. Moira waited there, but Eagan ignored her as we passed through double doors that the servant opened. Moira wouldn’t meet my eyes and looked like she wanted to escape.
The servant helped Eagan to an armchair by the lit fireplace. The study had a classic décor of dark wood, expensive leather couches, and stained-glass lamps, and miles of bookcases filled with books on subjects both fey and human. As the servant adjusted the blanket on Eagan’s lap, the old man brushed him away. “That’s enough. If you and Tibbet will wait outside please.”
Tibbet gave me a significant glance as she left to remind me what she had said. I squeezed her hand. Eagan leaned back in the corner of the chair and shook his head. “It’s never dull around here. There’s a flask behind that curtain over there. Could you get it for me?”
I went to the window he indicated and found a small glass flask on the floor hidden by the brocade drapery. “Who the hell hides all these flasks for you?”
He grinned around the neck of the bottle, then wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “That’s a secret. And speaking of, I assume you have something to report?”
I nodded. “How familiar are you with the crackdown in the Weird?”
A cryptic look spread over his features. “I get reports.”
I spun an antique globe on a stand near the wall. “Are you aware that the Boston P.D. has turned over all security to Guild agents?”
“Out of political necessity, I had to allow Guild agents to act under civilian authority. The Boston police are powerless against the fey. You know that,” he said.
I nodded. “Some of their actions are going beyond the law—civilian or Guild. Complaints to the police are referred to the Guild and complaints to the Guild are ignored.”
A sly smile slid onto his face. “I know you, Grey. You’ve been complaining about that for some time.”
I shrugged. “I’ve been complaining about neglect. This is different. The Guild agents down there are actively breaking the law. They’re encouraging a turf war between the solitaries and the Dead. It’s going to explode if they don’t back off.”
Eagan frowned. “And the Boston police are involved?”
I glanced at him. “Human officers have been ordered to stand aside and let the Guild do what it wants. I personally saw Commissioner Murdock meet secretly with a leading perpetrator among the Dead.”
Eagan rubbed at his chin. “What do you make of it?”
I smiled at him. “If you ask the Guild, they’re acting on your orders.”
Eagan chuckled softly to himself. “And when there is blood on the ground, macGoren can blame me and gain the support of the solitaries at the same time. How much time do you think I have?”
I shrugged. “I think it’s reached a crisis point.”
Eagan hummed to himself. “It seems I may have to put in an appearance downtown and shake things up a bit. I had hoped to spoil their plans once they had Vize in custody, but I suppose I can adjust.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. “What does Vize have to do with it?”
Eagan leaned his head back, his eyebrows raised in thought. “Everything, of course. The solitaries have been hiding him for Bastian Frye. MacGoren is using the Dead to find him, particularly a miscreant named Jark. Matters seem to have gotten out of hand. I didn’t anticipate the human police colluding with macGoren. An excellent move on his part, though he seems to have overplayed it. That’s always been macGoren’s flaw—his unwavering surety in the perfection of his plans.”
My feet felt rooted to the floor. “I can’t believe you let this happen.”
Eagan shrugged. “I didn’t let anything happen. The whole point of a black ops program is in its unprovability. I couldn’t stop it unless I knew the identities of macGoren’s agents, and that I was still working on. Unfortunately, Jark killed my inside agent before she could expose them.”
Jark killed his inside agent. The statement sank in with a sense of disbelief at what I was hearing and what it meant. “Are you talking about Sekka?”
Eagan barely suppressed a look of exasperation. “Of course, Grey. Why do you think I called you in the first place? When Sekka disappeared the same night Jark’s body turned up, I wanted to keep tabs on your investigation.”
I shook my head with a touch of anger that I had completely missed the connection. “And you had Keeva bury the Guild notice that Sekka was a Consortium agent to keep her Guild double-agent status secure, didn’t you?”
He tapped his knee in acknowledgment. “And had the damnedest time getting her to do it.”
“You used me,” I said.
He managed to look indignant and amused at the same time. “I most certainly did not. You took on Sekka’s murder case before I spoke to you. I gave you a complete choice in the matter. I merely covered my bases.”
I laughed. The man amazed me. “You’re right. I take it back.”
He grinned. “I’ll have to deal with this tomorrow. Something tells me the commissioner is in no mood to discuss his failings tonight.” He gestured at the door. “Now, tell me. Why have two of my guests felt inclined to lay hands on you?”
“Moira I insulted. I have no idea what the commissioner’s problem is.”
Eagan chuckled again. “I should chastise you for being a rude guest, but that minx has been spying on me for weeks. She’s quite the amateur. I expect better court intrigue from Maeve. She disappoints, she does.”
I bowed my head. “I apologize anyway.”
He acknowledged it with a nod. Eagan might have been pleased I had annoyed Moira, but he still liked the niceties of protocol. “Let’s see what they have to say for themselves,” he said.
A weak sending fluttered in the air, and the doors opened. Moira entered first, her expression firmly angry. She glared at me as she moved to the side of the room and bowed extravagantly toward Eagan. “You have my deepest apologies, Guildmaster. I was provoked in the situation. Allow me to make it up to my host.”
Eagan hummed. “I’ve already spoken to Mr. Grey and will deal with him as fitting. I will think on your apology. Stay a moment, will you, Moira? I would like your presence while I speak to my other guest.”
Moira bowed again as the commissioner strode in without acknowledging either of us. Tibbet closed the doors behind him. I will be right outside, she sent.
“What do you want, Eagan?” the commissioner asked.
Eagan put on a tolerant smile. “Pray, have a seat, Commissioner, and let us sort through this disruption of my house.”
“I apologize for involving you in a personal matter. I’m leaving now. Thank you.” He turned and stopped short, obviously making eye contact with Moira over my shoulder.
Eagan didn’t change his expression. “I appreciate that, Commissioner, but I believe you owe an apology elsewhere as well.”
The commissioner’s gaze shifted to me. “I’ll be god-damned before you get an apology from me, Grey.”
Eagan spoke to the commissioner’s back. “I will be the judge of that in my own home, Commissioner. What is the meaning of this?”
Moira stepped forward. “This is all a misunderstanding, Manus. We should not take any more time from you.”
Eagan rocked his head against his chair. “I don’t think so, Moira. I invited Grey here, and both of you laid hands on him. I am not pleased.”