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  “I have heard her referred to as such.” Dureth stood and summoned over a waitress. “Ensure my guests are well catered for. My treat, of course,” he said before turning and once again lifting my hand to kiss it. “A pleasure, as always Miss Daniels. I shall endeavour to find out more information on the death of Mr Page and share such news as I may find with you forthwith.”

  Dureth left and Thomas turned to our diminutive, house-fairy waitress. “I would love a glass of still water, please.” He turned to me and confirmed my order of lemonade and then relayed it to the waitress. “Oh, sorry,” he said when she turned to leave. “Please, can you also supply five bottles of your most expensive champagne to the party of gnomes celebrating in the corner?”

  The waitress smiled and nodded her head.

  I laughed and shook mine. “You are dreadful,” I said.

  Thomas cocked his head to the side and gave me a wink. “That’s why you love me.”

  I leaned over and gave him a firm kiss. “It’s one of the reasons.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Like any modern city, Cardiff is a hotbed of overpriced coffee shops, chain restaurants, and department stores. But beneath the commercial exterior, Cardiff is home to a secret underground full of magic and mystery. Where human witches and warlocks mingle with the Fay and other creatures of the supernatural. Regular humans instinctively shy away from the secret world surrounding them. They may not know why they cross the street at the sight of the beautiful young lady with golden hair and an air of importance about her, but they do. A feeling they can’t quite put their finger on, tells them not to cross her path. If you assured them that she was a member of the fair folk, they’d laugh in your face and forget about it a moment later. People only see what they want to see. But there are others, like Thomas, who cross between the worlds. They live with one foot in their human lives and the other in the world of magic, but unlike Thomas, a lot of the non-magical humans who enter the supernatural underground are broken and damaged, too desperate or full of hate to function in a normal life. Four such men approached us when we left Fay Magic.

  Besides the six of us, the alleyway was empty. The only street light was broken, and the thickening shadows delved ominously into every crevice and hideaway. What limited light was available came from Fay Magic’s blue neon sign and the ribbons of moonlight that cast the earth with their wraith-silver glow.

  Thomas had already taken on the demeanour of a fighter — calm, but ready — when the men circled to surround us.

  “Well, what do we have here?” The tallest one asked.

  The man next to him spat on the floor. “Looks like a witch and her pet.”

  “I thought witches kept cats as pets.”

  “Sure looks like a pussy to me.”

  The men chuckled at the lame joke. I sighed heavily and squared my feet. It looked like we were going to have to fight these guys. Thomas clearly agreed. “Okay, fellas,” he said. “Let’s get this over with. You coming at me one at a time or all at once?”

  Without hesitation, all four men charged forwards. “All at once it is, then,” Thomas said.

  Despite my reluctance to use magic against humans, I knew it was the only way I could fight these guys. I clearly wasn’t exposing them to anything new, and we were still outside a secret club, so, I figured Joe would understand and I would forgo another telling off. The runic tattoos circling my arms blazed to life, I drew on the power of protection, endurance, and strength: Luis, Fern, and Duir shone bright against my skin and sent magic roaring through my veins.

  The magic snaked along my arms, swirling like tendrils of blue fire around my hand and between my fingers. An orb of energy gathered in my palms. A simple push spell that looked flashier than it was. I released it, knocking the guy closest to me from his feet. Thomas had moved to engage the other three.

  The man who’d called Thomas a pussy grunted as he slammed into the wall. The tall guy snarled and charged at Thomas from behind and my heart pounded. I desperately wanted to rush to his aid, but the man I’d knocked to the floor was back on his feet and charging me again.

  I engaged my attacker, but spared a glance at Thomas. I should have known better than to worry about him in a hand to hand combat situation, even against three men. Thomas was always a calming, stoic person. He found no joy in fighting, but had practised the self-defence system of Krav Maga for years. Its whole philosophy was based on ending a fight as quickly and brutally as possible, and my sweet, gentle Thomas, who didn’t have an aggressive bone in his body, turned into a different man when forced to defend himself. The fools didn’t stand a chance.

  “I can do this all night,” I said to my opponent when I zapped him with a magical orb for the fourth time. “Don’t you think it would be better to give up and go away already?”

  He glanced at me with hate emanating from his eyes, but I saw a flicker of doubt flash through them at the sight of his friends being demolished by Thomas.

  “I know, right?” I said, brimming with pride. “He truly is amazing.” I laughed. “You know, if you’re sick of being blasted, you could always go try your luck with your friends over there.”

  The guy edged backwards on his bottom before swiftly turning to run away. “Wise choice,” I called after him and then turned to watch Thomas in action.

  He quickly kneed one guy in the groin. While he was down, another tried to pin Thomas to the wall by his throat, but Thomas chopped his arms away and head-butted him. I winced. Thomas turned and elbowed him in the chin. Blood splattered from the guy’s mouth and his eyes rolled in his head. He stumbled backwards, dazed and out of the fight.

  The tall guy bunched his muscles and swung at Thomas, who ducked under the blow and hit his attacker with a punch to the stomach. The guy doubled over and coughed up a dribble of blood.

  The one man left standing looked at Thomas for a second before running. His two friends joined him not a moment later.

  “Well, that was a complete waste of two minutes,” I said, pulling a tissue from my pocket and using it to dab at the split above Thomas’ eyebrow. “I really wish you wouldn’t head-butt people.”

  “It was either that or gouge his eyes, and although they were arseholes, I didn’t want to do too much damage.”

  “You big softy,” I said, then gave him a peck on the cheek.

  Thomas lifted me in his arms and waggled his eyebrows. “I’m not soft where it counts,” he said.

  I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head. “What has gotten into you lately, with your crazy eyebrows and insatiable libido?”

  Thomas smiled. “Must be the season, I guess.”

  “Well, the season or not, unfortunately, we have work to do.”

  Thomas kept me pinned in a hug. “You think we should go after those guys? Find out if they’re working for someone?”

  I sighed. I guess it stood to reason they were working for someone. It’s not every day you get attacked in the street for no reason. Although, the occurrence seemed to be happening more and more lately. My mind whirled, trying to piece together who may have sent the men. Was this attack also related to Lee Page’s case? Was Joe wrong and Mr Platt had finally decided to send some men against us? The problem was, Thomas and I had too many enemies — who didn’t? — and this attack could be related to either our current case or any of the ones from our past. My eyes drifted to the blue neon sign flashing Fay Magic. Had someone overheard our plans in the club? Did they know we were on our way to see Manon? Then, I remembered the words the attacker had used, ‘a witch and her pet.’ There was only one person I knew who viewed Thomas with such contempt, but would Dureth really send someone to attack us outside his own club? Plus, why would he try to kill us when I owe him a favour. Neither one of us could take our oaths lightly, we were bound by magic, and the penalty for breaking that bond of trust was unthinkable.

  “Let’s leave them,” I said, deciding not to share my doubts about Dureth with Thomas. He’d charge back in there and try
to rip him a new one, but formidable as Thomas was, I wouldn’t like to see him take on one of the Tylwyth Teg.

  “At best guess, this attack, just like the last one, is related to the death of Lee Page.” I shrugged. “If I’m wrong, I’m sure whoever’s out to get us will show their next hand soon enough.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The journey from the Centre of Cardiff to Tide Field Road took a little over ten minutes. Busy streets soon led to a back road that passed the docks and ran alongside the giant steel processing plant that dominated the area. The normal heavy traffic of the daytime hours had long eased and only a few stray cars joined us on the route. Their headlights illuminated the path ahead, and the soft purr of their engines grumbled in the still night air.

  I pushed down the growing sense of unease I felt about Dureth and his possible involvement in our attack, and focused instead on the information he’d provided us about Manon and her private club.

  Even before we turned off Rover Way, we saw signs of the supernatural underground: a marking on a tree to guide the way for those who know what they meant, and a strange spark of energy in the air that most would brush off as the ominous presence of the steel works, with its giant clanging machines, mountains of metal, and pervading scent of rust and heat.

  I tried to focus on the hatchback in front of us. I couldn’t count the occupants inside, read the license plate, or even get a feel for the colour of the car.

  “Do you think that car’s going to Manon’s,” I asked.

  “What car?”

  “The one in front of us.”

  Thomas looked confused for a second. “Oh, sorry,” he said after a moment. “I don’t know how I missed that. I must have been driving on autopilot.”

  I shook my head. “I think it’s warded to draw attention away from it. I’m having trouble focusing on it myself.”

  The car in front circled the roundabout and turned onto Tide Field Road. “I think it might be headed where we are. Let’s follow it.”

  “Follow what?”

  I laughed and shook my head, unable to contain the wide grin on my face. “Never mind,” I said. “Just take the second exit.”

  “What?” Thomas offered me a bemused smile and started to chuckle himself. “Why are you laughing at me?”

  “I’ll explain later,” I said. “If I tell you now, you’ll only forget.”

  Thomas raised his eyebrows. “Ah, magic,” he said and let out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess that means we’re in the right place.”

  “Looks like it.”

  We followed the car — I followed the car, Thomas followed my instructions — as it circled Tremorfa Industrial Estate and finally came to a stop outside a large warehouse complex running adjacent to the Bristol Channel. A tall fence with spikes running along the top surrounded it, but the gate was open and cars were driving through.

  “What do you see?” I asked Thomas after directing him to a space in the already overflowing car park.

  “People milling around and queuing waiting to get inside,” he answered.

  “Regular people?”

  “Regular people,” he confirmed.

  I activated the runic power of Ailm and directed a spell at Thomas to enhance the clarity of his vision. His gasp confirmed that his eyes now registered the same sight as mine. The regular people were now green goblins with sharp fangs and demonic-red eyes, stocky dwarfs with proud beards and fierce faces, and an assortment of fairies, from tall, elegant fair folk to minuscule, wispy pixies.

  After we’d parked the car, Thomas took my hand and led me towards the warehouse. Half way there, he froze and motioned to the car besides us. “BMW, LeManns blue,” he said before moving to the back of the queue.

  The short line in front of us cleared and we stepped up to the bouncers: two hefty trolls, so identical they could have been twins, and one of which could easily have been the troll that dumped Lee Page’s body in the forest. Did Lee accidentally stumble on the club? Or was he like one of the goons that attacked us outside Fay Magic, a lackey sent to pick a fight with the wrong person?

  The bouncers blocked our entrance to the warehouse with their sizeable bulk. “Private club,” the one on the left said, with a voice that rumbled like a blast furnace.

  I sighed, not wanting to deal with another overzealous doorman, but at least with this one, I had the option of using my magic. I drew on the power of my runes and created a mini display of fireworks in my hand. “We’re on the list,” I said, smiling.

  The bouncer turned his attention to Thomas. Advising the troll that Thomas was with me did nothing to change the expression on his face. He continued to block our path and looked at Thomas as if he expected him to earn his entry into the club with a display of magical powers.

  I cleared my throat. “If you don’t mind,” I said, putting on an air of importance. “Manon is expecting us.” The name dropping clearly worked as the trolls stepped apart and allowed us entry.

  The smell was unbelievable when we finally entered the building. Imagine several thousand people crammed into what amounted to a large tin can. Add in the stench of sweat, alcohol, smoke, and blood, then top it all off with the putrid odour that accompanies far too many creatures who do not share the standard hygiene rituals common to humans, or our natural reluctance to fart in public. Then, you may come close to understanding how truly awful the stench was. You could practically see noxious green fumes floating in the air. I was surprised by the presence of so many of the fair folk, given their often delicate sensibilities, until I noticed one enter behind us and perform a small spell clearly designed to mitigate some of the smell.

  Despite that, the main thing I noticed as we entered the warehouse was the bleachers forming a square around a large fighting cage, completely enclosed with bars covering four walls and a ceiling, in the centre of the room. A billboard flashed with the image of two goblins. The names Plax and Huikitx captioned beneath them along with betting odds. One side of the room held a set of stairs leading up to a second level. A black window covered the upper floor, suggesting it was a private display area.

  A mass of supernaturals swarmed bookies desperate to log their bets. The place was packed, and the noise was easily at got-to-shout level. Despite my discomfort in the human club, this supernatural one failed to have the same effect on me. Maybe it was because here I was in my element: able to tap into my magic without the fear of exposing myself.

  “It looks like we’ve come to the right place,” Thomas stated.

  “Lee wouldn’t have stood a chance.” A regular human in the ring facing a creature of the supernatural was unthinkable. With their strength and power, even a small pixie would prevail.

  Thomas shook his head. “Let’s head to the bar,” he said after a moment. “See if we can find Manon.”

  I nodded in agreement, then Thomas took my hand and we pressed through the crowds towards the bar.

  Human, fairy, supernatural. Every society, hidden or known, has places like this. Underground dives where the lowest forms of existence come to prey on those weaker than themselves. Whether it’s to take someone’s money, their body, their life, or to watch another being be beaten to a pulp, the people are all the same: sociopaths who feed on the depravity and pain of others.

  There’s a cold rage burning beneath the smiling faces and laughing punters: a palpable thirst for blood. I tried to remember the flashing images of what Lee Page felt in his final moments. Confusion overrode his every thought, and then there’d been pain, but when casting my spell at the cottage the day before — a day that seemed an eternity ago — I’d never felt any fear from him. That was a small comfort, I guessed, until I wondered if maybe the pain from his injuries were so great he couldn’t feel anything else? We knew he hadn’t died a forest death, and that his final moments were spent in the ring, but if his final moments were spent here, he died in a jungle; one where everybody was out for themselves.

  A path cleared for Thomas as he walked through
the crowd, so I trailed alongside him. When we reached the bar, Thomas put his arm around my waist and motioned to the bartender. I turned, leaned against the counter, rested on my elbows, and scanned the room.

  Manon had one hell of a set up here. There were powerful creatures in this room. The air thrummed with their potency, creating an atmosphere that smothered me like a dirty blanket. I couldn’t be further away from the natural source of my power: the trees that sustained me. I suppressed a shiver and turned my attention back to Thomas.

  “I don’t like this,” I said.

  “Me either.” The weary look in Thomas’ eyes mirrored my unease. “How do you want to play this?”

  I took a deep breath and pushed my shoulders back. “Calm, confident, show no weakness,” I said.

  Thomas smiled and gave me a curt nod. “We got this.”

  I wrinkled my nose and smiled back. “Yeah, we do.”

  “What can I get you two?” the bartender asked, clearing some empty glasses from the bar.

  “We’re here to see Manon,” I said.

  The bartender tilted his head and appraised us for a second. I wondered if we might have a problem already, but his eyes rested on Thomas. “You a fighter?” he asked.

  “Why do you ask?”

  The bartender shrugged. “You look like a fighter, and if that’s the case, then Manon would probably want to see you, if not…”

  “I think Manon would want to see me,” Thomas said.

  “She’s upstairs.” He nodded to the black window feature on the second floor. “Tell the guy on the door you’re a fighter and she might see you.”

  Thomas nodded his thanks and we turned to leave.

  “Hey, mate, you might stand a better chance if you leave the bird behind.” The bartender nodded to me. “Manon likes all the attention on her, if you know what I mean.”

  I sure as hell knew what he meant, and there was no chance of Manon getting her mitts on my man.