gotten from Assistant State’s Attorney Dan Baskin earlier that year. And a couple dozen other nothings.
The whims of the Fae, I tell ya.
Most useless, all but worthless, to the untrained observer. But like I said before, symbols. Language of magic. Most of these I’d never done a thing with, probably never would. A few of ’em? Saved my life or solved cases.
You never know.
It all put me in mind of the museum again. Yeah, I admit it, I was curious. You blame me? Whatever was up, it was weird and it was big. I wanted to know. And I
really
enjoyed the notion of throwing the Seelie Court’s “warning” back in their faces and giving them a notated list of where they could stick it.
I didn’t wanna know
enough
, didn’t wanna show them up
enough
, though. Probably just as well I—
And that’s when the door opened and she slunk into my office like… Well, we been through that.
Just a tiny waft of perfume gusted ahead of her, attention-getting without making you wanna hawk something up. She wore a breezy cloche that matched the green dress so well it hadda be custom, and with that as a contrast, I couldn’t at first tell whether her hair or lips were redder. Not that it was the easiest thing in the world to keep my attention on either, not between her deep, almost violet peepers and… other things.
Yeah, I’m dwelling. I know it, I ain’t that dumb. But this was a hinky experience for me, dig? She was gorgeous, sure, but I’d seen gorgeous before. Even gone a bit dizzy for a mortal woman before, especially during the old days when I was more like your legends make us out to be, and figured mortals were mostly toys. I ain’t proud of that, but I won’t make excuses.
Point is, attraction’s one thing, but I’d never been quite bowled over this way, not by a human, anyway. Not that I coulda told you that at the time. I wasn’t thinkin’ clear enough to realize I wasn’t thinkin’ clear.
Think I forgot to keep up the whole blinking act, but if she glommed to anything weird, she kept it to herself.
“Mr. Oberon?” she asked. Yep, throaty, intense, exactly how she
shoulda
sounded, looking like that.
And hey, she got my name right! That made two in a row, pretty sure I was halfway to tying the record with that.
Not
my first thought at the time, though, savvy?
Play it cool, Mick. Just another visitor, maybe a client, no matter how juicy a tomato she might be.
“That’s me,” I said just a bit too quickly. “C’mon seat. Have an in.”
She blinked once, almost languidly.
“Pardon?”
Well done, jackass. Good going. Cool as summer and smooth as gravel.
I made myself grin, flashed some chompers at her.
“Sorry. Caught me in the middle of reminiscing.” The drawer trundled along its runners and clanged shut as I shoved at it. “How can I help you, Mrs.…?”
“Miss. Webb. Ramona Webb.”
Miss.
Good.
…Mind on business, Micko.
“Please have a seat, Miss Webb.”
She did just that, making the chintzy chair look
real
good all of a sudden. Leaning back, she crossed her knees, rested her purse—
also
a pitch-perfect match for the outfit—in her lap, and gave the office a good once-over. She didn’t look
unimpressed
, anyway, which was about the best I could hope for with this flop.
“I’ve never had cause to visit a private investigator before,” she admitted, turning her attention to me as I settled opposite her. “Do you all work out of such… intriguing conditions?”
“Nah. I’m classy. Most PIs just live in a cheap mess.”
That put a small smile on her button, which was more’n enough to tell me I wanted to see a bigger one. But sittin’ at the desk had also helped me gather what was left of my wits, get out ahead of the stupid.
“What is it you need, Miss Webb?”
“Ah. Well, I…” She fidgeted with the purse, not quite as calm and collected as she was making out. She finally snapped it open, pulled out a pack of Old Golds and a book of matches. She had the
The whims of the Fae, I tell ya.
Most useless, all but worthless, to the untrained observer. But like I said before, symbols. Language of magic. Most of these I’d never done a thing with, probably never would. A few of ’em? Saved my life or solved cases.
You never know.
It all put me in mind of the museum again. Yeah, I admit it, I was curious. You blame me? Whatever was up, it was weird and it was big. I wanted to know. And I
really
enjoyed the notion of throwing the Seelie Court’s “warning” back in their faces and giving them a notated list of where they could stick it.
I didn’t wanna know
enough
, didn’t wanna show them up
enough
, though. Probably just as well I—
And that’s when the door opened and she slunk into my office like… Well, we been through that.
Just a tiny waft of perfume gusted ahead of her, attention-getting without making you wanna hawk something up. She wore a breezy cloche that matched the green dress so well it hadda be custom, and with that as a contrast, I couldn’t at first tell whether her hair or lips were redder. Not that it was the easiest thing in the world to keep my attention on either, not between her deep, almost violet peepers and… other things.
Yeah, I’m dwelling. I know it, I ain’t that dumb. But this was a hinky experience for me, dig? She was gorgeous, sure, but I’d seen gorgeous before. Even gone a bit dizzy for a mortal woman before, especially during the old days when I was more like your legends make us out to be, and figured mortals were mostly toys. I ain’t proud of that, but I won’t make excuses.
Point is, attraction’s one thing, but I’d never been quite bowled over this way, not by a human, anyway. Not that I coulda told you that at the time. I wasn’t thinkin’ clear enough to realize I wasn’t thinkin’ clear.
Think I forgot to keep up the whole blinking act, but if she glommed to anything weird, she kept it to herself.
“Mr. Oberon?” she asked. Yep, throaty, intense, exactly how she
shoulda
sounded, looking like that.
And hey, she got my name right! That made two in a row, pretty sure I was halfway to tying the record with that.
Not
my first thought at the time, though, savvy?
Play it cool, Mick. Just another visitor, maybe a client, no matter how juicy a tomato she might be.
“That’s me,” I said just a bit too quickly. “C’mon seat. Have an in.”
She blinked once, almost languidly.
“Pardon?”
Well done, jackass. Good going. Cool as summer and smooth as gravel.
I made myself grin, flashed some chompers at her.
“Sorry. Caught me in the middle of reminiscing.” The drawer trundled along its runners and clanged shut as I shoved at it. “How can I help you, Mrs.…?”
“Miss. Webb. Ramona Webb.”
Miss.
Good.
…Mind on business, Micko.
“Please have a seat, Miss Webb.”
She did just that, making the chintzy chair look
real
good all of a sudden. Leaning back, she crossed her knees, rested her purse—
also
a pitch-perfect match for the outfit—in her lap, and gave the office a good once-over. She didn’t look
unimpressed
, anyway, which was about the best I could hope for with this flop.
“I’ve never had cause to visit a private investigator before,” she admitted, turning her attention to me as I settled opposite her. “Do you all work out of such… intriguing conditions?”
“Nah. I’m classy. Most PIs just live in a cheap mess.”
That put a small smile on her button, which was more’n enough to tell me I wanted to see a bigger one. But sittin’ at the desk had also helped me gather what was left of my wits, get out ahead of the stupid.
“What is it you need, Miss Webb?”
“Ah. Well, I…” She fidgeted with the purse, not quite as calm and collected as she was making out. She finally snapped it open, pulled out a pack of Old Golds and a book of matches. She had the
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