Tithes (Ava Delaney

by Claire Farrell

  I gave him an are-you-serious look.

  “Hey,” he said. “I’ve only seen you look grubby, too, so I don’t even know if it’s possible that you scrub up well, but we might as well try.”

  I thumped his arm as hard as I dared, but he was too busy laughing to notice.

  “Does this mean we’re best friends again?” I demanded. “Because otherwise, there will be payback for this conversation.”

  He grinned. “You know you’re my favourite person.”

  The mischievous glint in his eye said I still had some punishment to undergo.

  11

  On Saturday morning, I called Shay to fill him in on everything.

  “Does this mean I’m no longer in the bad books?” he asked.

  I was about to laugh, but he actually sounded serious. “If the witches pull off their spell, then I’ll be glad for the help,” I said. “But I still feel screwed over. You could have at least warned me.”

  “Would that have made it easier or harder?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’m not a big fan of surprises.”

  “Speaking of surprises.” He cleared his throat, and his tone grew wary. “I’ve heard a rumour that I’ll be seeing you later.”

  “Oh,” I said. “At the charity thing? Don’t worry. I’m just there undercover. I won’t get in the way.”

  He chuckled. “Undercover? If you’re Phoenix’s date, I’m pretty sure you’ll be the main topic of conversation.”

  “Shut up,” I said, ignoring the unspoken question. “Have you talked to Moses yet?”

  “No, should I?”

  “Probably. He’s been doing some undercover work of his own. Oh, and thanks for the stuff you sent over to Breslin.”

  “Just don’t spread the word,” he said. “I break rules these days. It’s not something I want getting out.”

  “Any updates on the emergency number failure?”

  “Soon,” he said. “I’m getting close.”

  * * *

  That afternoon, Carl and Anka dragged me over to her place to get ready. Carl distracted me while Anka curled my hair and did my makeup. Afterward, I admired myself in the mirror. “Wow,” I said. “You almost made me look like a girl.”

  Dita giggled in the corner, while Anka said some very bad words in Polish. “You are a woman,” she added in English. “Stop making fun of yourself.”

  I made a duck-lips face at Dita, who laughed all over again.

  Carl had helped me pick out a dressy trouser suit that likely wouldn’t draw too much attention. Due to his encouragement, I had caved on the shoes and fallen for a pair of heels that I would never be able to walk in. As I stumbled around Anka’s kitchen, I brushed off her concerns. “I’ll just sidestep around the walls. It’s no big deal. It’s not like I’ll need to move very fast.”

  She muttered under her breath. I caught Carl staring at me.

  “What?”

  “My little girl’s growing up,” he said with a faux sniff.

  “Shut up.” I glanced out the window and saw Emmet playing on his own. “Come on, you,” I said to Dita.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Outside to make friends again.”

  She moaned but let me drag her outside to Emmett. I started by dragging then eventually needed to lean on her for support. Emmett stood there, looking embarrassed, as I shoved her toward him.

  “You’re best friends,” I said. “Stop being stubborn, and make things up.”

  Dita folded her arms, while Emmett scuffed the toe of his shoe against the ground.

  “Emmett,” I said warningly, “you know what to do.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said at last. “I didn’t think you were going to get hurt, or I would never have—”

  “You think I’m mad because I got hurt?” She put her hands on her hips, and he immediately looked as though he wanted to be anywhere else. “I’m mad because you’re a bully, Emmett Brannigan. Nick’s my friend, and you made everything awful, and now you’re going to say sorry for the one thing that happened by accident? Are you kidding me?”

  He mumbled something under his breath.

  “I can’t hear you,” she said, sounding a lot like her mother all of a sudden.

  “I said I’m sorry I was mean to Nick. I won’t do it again. If he comes back… I’ll be nice—nicer—to him.”

  “Well, good,” she huffed.

  A limo pulled into the cul-de-sac, and Dita forgot all about her anger. “Emmett, look at the car! Come on!”

  She ran over, but Emmett lingered, a sullen look on his face.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Why do you like him better than my dad? He’s so weird and creepy. I don’t like him. Why would you?”

  I wobbled over to him. “I don’t like him better than your dad. But I’m allowed to have more than one friend. And plenty of people think I’m weird, so how can I judge somebody else for the same thing?”

  He shrugged.

  Peter came to the gate. “You look really nice,” he said, his jaw clenched and twitchy. “I hope you have fun.”

  That was for Emmett’s benefit, but I was still impressed. “Thank you,” I said, meaning it.

  He smiled a sad, resigned smile that didn’t wipe the harshness from his expression, then Carl had my hand and was helping me to the limo.

  Phoenix had gotten out of the backseat to greet me. He smiled at my appearance. “No dress, but those are certainly heels.”

  “I went shopping with someone who wanted to punish me, and I bowed to peer pressure,” I said. “Let’s get this over with then.”

  He held out the car door—obviously having taken lessons in unnecessary chivalry from Shay at some stage—then got in beside me. I waved at the others as the car drove out of the cul-de-sac.

  “Overdoing it a tad?” I remarked when Phoenix offered me a glass of champagne.

  “This car will be a junker compared to the others,” he said, relaxing in his seat.

  An uncomfortable feeling wormed its way up my chest. “Phoenix, exactly how much were the tickets to this thing? I mean, what do I owe you?”

  He waved a hand. “I bought them months ago. I can’t even remember now. Besides, I invited you. You don’t owe me a thing.”

  “Who were you going to bring with you?”

  “What?”

  “You said you bought the tickets months ago. You asked me to go a couple of days ago. Who had you planned on taking with you?”

  “Lucia.” He shrugged, his mouth downturned. “I didn’t expect her to leave again.”

  “No sign of Lorcan coming home then?”

  “Not yet,” he said. “Although Elathan is making plans to return, I believe.”

  I already wanted to kick off the shoes. “So what exactly do you want me to do tonight then?”

  “Enjoy yourself.”

  “I mean really.”

  “Mingle. Listen to conversations. Observe. It’ll be good for you to see how certain people tick in this kind of situation.” He reached out and touched my knee. “Sit with me at dinner.” He squeezed. “And know that the child is safe and the witches are almost done with their spell.”

  I thought about how fearful Emmett had looked when Phoenix arrived. It made the guilt twist inside me. Between that and the reminder of Phoenix taking away Noodle, I inched away, just out of his reach. I felt him looking at me, but I gazed out the window as the car made the relatively short journey across the Liffey to a hotel so posh that it took a concentrated effort on my behalf just to walk by the place on an average day.

  We ended up in a queue outside. I hadn’t expected many people. Between protesters, reporters, and curious passersby, the pathway was packed out.

  “What’s going on?” I blinked as lights flashed around the car. “Why are there cameras?”

  “I told you the media would be represented.”

  “I thought you meant inside as guests!”

  “That, too.” He still looked co
mpletely relaxed.

  I peered out the window. “There are so many of them. And the protesters look like they’ve brought everyone they’ve ever met. Don’t you think somebody should deal with Humans First before they get into politics?”

  “They’re harmless,” he said.

  “What’s this event for anyway?”

  “The opening of a new clinic, I think. I forgot to check. Some businessman agreed to double the funds raised tonight.”

  “You don’t sound very interested.”

  He shrugged. “It’ll end up privatised, and he’s bound to have a stake in it. Not exactly charitable. The old clinic will be completely public. They need the funds more.”

  “Then why go to this thing?”

  “There’s more than one reason to attend something like this,” he said cryptically.

  The driver opened the door, and Phoenix got out. He helped me out and held out his arm for me to hold on.

  “I couldn’t let you fall on the red carpet,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

  “The what carpet?” And there it was, complete with Z-list wannabe celebrities. “I’m going to kill you,” I whispered as menacingly as I could manage. “I’m going to rip out your heart and feed it to the werewolves.”

  He patted my hand on his arm. “You mean you’re not going to smile for the cameras, Ava?”

  “Oh, you’re a dead man,” I said with my best smile.

  We strolled up to the doors, as I tried my best not to trip over my own heels.

  “You are the worst person of all time,” I said when the cameras were behind us. “And I’m never, ever going to… oh, wow.”

  Inside the hotel was stunning. Staff lined the foyer, wearing freshly pressed uniforms and serving alcoholic drinks. Bouquets of fresh blossoming flowers were everywhere. The floor was marble, and the largest chandelier I’d ever seen hung below a beautiful ceiling mural of seraphim watching over a nursing mother. I wondered what my mother had looked like before she was sent to earth to play at being human.

  “Does this mean you like it?” Phoenix asked, sounding amused.

  “It’s… something else.” I looked up and noticed he was staring at me intently. “What?”

  “I find it refreshing to see the world through your eyes.” He nodded ahead of us. “This is just the beginning.”

  He led me through the massive doors and into the event room before I could protest. My sensory system immediately went into overload. Candles hung from the walls, and the flames reflected against dozens upon dozens of crystal vases in various sizes lined up beneath them. Glasses chinked together almost constantly, a violin quartet played at the other end of the room, and the swishing of hundreds of dresses brushing against each other drowned out my increasing heart rate.

  “I should probably stake out the kitchen,” I said, completely overwhelmed.

  “Or I could introduce you to people,” Phoenix said, refusing to stop and give me a chance to panic completely.

  As we drifted from group to group, I stopped trying to remember people’s names. It was all too glamorous for me. I finally managed to escape and find a waiter serving portions of food so small, it was an insult to call them bite-sized. I had discovered I could walk without falling if I took short, quick strides that probably made me look as though I were walking on tightrope, but I didn’t care. I stole half the waiter’s tray onto a napkin and hobbled over to a pillar to lean on.

  I recognised very few faces. I had spotted Shay, looking very dapper in a tuxedo, but he was surrounded by admirers, and I didn’t have the heart to get in the middle of that. Most of the Senate were around, charming the room, or at least trying to. I wondered what the ratio of human to supernatural was, but the results of any attempts I made to reach out with my other senses were too overwhelming to be of any use.

  I spotted Phoenix in the crowd at the other side of the room. Being so tall, he stood out. His black-and-platinum hair gleamed in the light. It was slicked back into a bun, revealing the angular lines of his face. He looked tired. I hadn’t noticed before. Callista was by his side, her hand on his arm as she relayed a story to the group of people around them. I couldn’t help watching them. Callista was a siren and possessed that natural magnetism she wasn’t scared to overuse. Most of the room was looking at her. She was so tall, blond, curvy, and charismatic—even I had to admit she and Phoenix looked good together.

  “It drives her crazy,” a woman said.

  I looked and saw Layla, Senate representative of the succubi, standing next to me. “What?”

  She stole a morsel from my napkin. “Trying to figure him out. I can tell it’s slowly driving her insane.”

  “Okay?”

  “We don’t like each other.” She popped the food into her mouth then spoke around it. “The attention-seeking gets tiring.”

  “You literally feed on the attention of men,” I said.

  “Exactly.” She stole a teeny meatball. I fought the urge to slap her hand away. “For me, it’s feed or die. She just enjoys it. And as you know we don’t have a choice, you would think you could cut my people a little slack every now and then.”

  I rolled my eyes. “If this is about Carl, then don’t bother. I’ve earned the right to be suspicious.”

  “While it’s true that one of ours harmed you, that won’t happen again. We’re in a good position. We would never do anything to jeopardise that, and I’d prefer it if you wouldn’t take your prejudices out on innocent succubi. You don’t have the right to judge us as a group, and I don’t appreciate the constant attitude.”

  I looked at her. “I’ll do anything to protect my friends, whether they like it or not. I admit I have… an opinion on your kind, but as long as you keep to your brothels, I won’t cause you any trouble.”

  “Not every man who comes to us is looking for sex. Too many of them are lonely, just wishing somebody out there will listen to them. Don’t you think that’s a valuable service?” She grimaced. “Of course not. You think you’re better than us.”

  “I just care about protecting my friend.” I glanced over the crowd. “It’s not that I think I’m better. But we all know what happens when people take what they believe they’re owed. If I have to make a few enemies to preempt a problem, then so be it.”

  “So you consider us enemies?”

  I managed a smile. “Trust me when I say I can probably trust my enemies more than my friends sometimes. At least your crowd doesn’t hide the fact they can’t stand me.”

  To my surprise, she smiled back. “Then trust me when I say I know exactly what you mean.”

  Somebody beckoned her, and I was left alone again. Bored, I wandered around the room, half-listening to conversations. They were all dull, or rather, no deadly secrets were revealed.

  “Ava!” Willow approached me and took my hands, knocking the rest of my food to the floor. She ignored it, a beaming smile on her face. She might have been a little drunk. “I never thought I would persuade you to come to one of these things.”

  “Oh, well, I—”

  “I have a schedule,” she said brightly. “I’ll send you a copy. We can share a car next time. I believe it’s next weekend. James will know.” She waved energetically. “Oh, James! James!”

  While she was distracted, I made my escape. I didn’t get far before tripping and bumping into a young woman, who dropped her bag. Some of the contents spilled out, revealing a disturbing amount of items that could have been used as weapons. She scurried to pick them up, knocking my hands away when I tried to help her. Somebody with that much holy water, stakes, pepper spray, and who knew what else had to be scared of something.

  “Are you all right?” I asked her. “Do you need help?”

  She looked up at me, her chest rapidly rising and falling. “What?”

  I recognised her from the newspaper articles.

  “You’re a reporter,” I said under my breath. “Áine O’Neill, right?”

  She froze, her lips shaking as s
he muttered something incomprehensible. The bell for dinner rang, catching my attention, and the reporter made her escape into the crowd. I got to my feet, grumbling under my breath, and Phoenix came out of nowhere.

  “Why were you on the floor?” he asked.

  “I needed a rest,” I said, nodding at Callista. “Dinner, I suppose.”

  “You look so nice,” Callista said in a friendly manner. I avoided her gaze so I wouldn’t get sucked into her vortex of charm. I often wondered if Shay had a great-great-great-grandmother who was also a siren.

  “Go on ahead,” Phoenix told Callista. “We’ll follow you.”

  Looking a bit miffed, she left us, and he took my arm. “Some women bring flats with them,” he said. “To save their feet during the night.”

  “Now he tells me.”

  “Anything interesting going on?” he asked under his breath as we walked.

  “Nope,” I said. “It’s as dull as I expected. People are talking about the best side of themselves rather than their secrets.”

  “At least the dinner should be decent,” he said, sounding amused.

  “I hope it’s better than those teeny-tiny morsels of God knows what they were handing out earlier,” I complained.

  “For someone so small, you are highly concerned with food.”

  “Number one: you’re the one who’s tall. I’m perfectly sized, thank you. And two: food keeps the, er, blood cravings at bay.”

  “Are they bad?” he asked, sounding more interested than grossed out.

  “Not anymore,” I said. “Mostly depends on my head space.”

  “And do you ever… crave mine?”

  I shot him an askance glance. “No. And please stop asking questions now.”

  He grinned and led me to our table. Most people hadn’t taken their seats yet. Phoenix sat me to his left then handed me a glass of wine.

  I declined. “Wasted on me.”

  “This is fae wine,” he said. “I had them open it for our table.”

  “Fae wine makes me sleepy in an I-have-to-fall-on-my-face-right-now kind of way,” I explained.