A Caress Of Twilight   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

It hid alot, like the fact that Cel had tried to kill me and was even now being punished for it. There was lots the media didn't know, and the queen wanted it kept that way, so we kept it that way.

My aunt told me that she wanted an heir of her own bloodline, even if that blood was tainted like mine. She once tried to drown me as a child because I wasn't magic enough and thus, to her, I wasn't really sidhe, though I wasn't really human either. It was good to keep my aunt happy; her happy meant fewer people died.

"I can understand your employer not wanting to get caught up in the media circus outside," I said.

Jeffery gave me that brilliant smile again, but his eyes were relieved not lustful. "Then you'll agree to meet with my employer someplace more private."

"The princess will not meet your employer alone anywhere," Doyle said.

Jeffery shook his head. "No, I understand that now. My employer simply wants to avoid the media."

"Short of using spells that are illegal against the media," I said, "I don't see how we could possibly avoid them all."

Jeffery was back to frowning again. I sighed. I just wanted Jeffery to go away at this point. Surely the next client of the day would be less confusing, Goddess willing. My boss Jeremy Grey had a nonrefundable retainer. We had more business than we knew what to do with. Maybe I could just tell Jeffery Maison to go home.

"I'm not allowed to say my employer's name out loud. She said that would mean something to you."

I shrugged. "I'm sorry, Mr. Maison, but it doesn't."

His frown deepened. "She was very sure that it would."

I shook my head. "I am sorry, Mr. Maison." I stood up. Kitto's hand slid down my leg so that he could hide himself completely in the little cave that my desk made. He didn't melt in sunlight, contrary to folklore, but he was agoraphobic.

"Please," Jeffrey said. "Please, I'm sure it's because I'm not saying it right."

I crossed my arms under my breasts and did not sit back down. "I'm sorry, Mr. Maison, but we've all had a long morning, too long a morning to play twenty questions. Either tell us something concrete about your employer's problem, or find another private detective firm."

He put his hand out, almost touching the desk, then let his hand fall back to his well-tailored lap. "My employer wishes to see people of her own kind again." He stared at me as if willing me to finally catch on.

I frowned at him. "What do you mean, people of her own kind?"

He frowned, clearly out of his depth, but doggedly trying.