Page 57 of Pining for the Prince
Gwil’s opinion was highly coloured by his past experience, Hyax didn’t have the same concerns, but just because he hadn’t had the same trouble didn’t invalidate what Gwil had encountered.
“We’ve still so many unknowns, I don’t think we can do this on our own, but just because the police are involved doesn’t mean we’ll stop our investigation.”
“Too fucking right.” Gwil opened his laptop. “Let me crack on with this. Shouldn’t take too long.”
“Can I get you anything? Perhaps we could go for a drink or something later? Continue building our reputation as the hottest couple in town.”
“Let’s see how we get on. But a cuppa would be great.”
There was something not right. He wanted to think it was because Gwil was tired but it didn’t seem enough. Once in the kitchen he boiled the kettle, grabbing a couple of teabags and mugs. Maybe he’d said something rude about vampires while under the influence, but Gwil would have called him out. Or had he crossed the line in other ways and Gwil wasn’t happy he’d got handsy? Again, Gwil would have put him in his place. He hated having this barrier between them, the whole fake relationship was a big enough hurdle, but at least he’d known what he’d donethere. He would have to get to the bottom of this and he would not let it jeopardize his friendship with Gwil.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Gwil had submitted their report, Hyax helping, and it had been an awkward hour or so. He’d been worried Hyax might remember the kiss and be horrified, but for now, he was still oblivious. At least he’d been able to feign being too tired to go out—that excuse wouldn’t hold for long and he was relieved, for the first time ever, to be summoned to Scotland Yard, therefore avoiding Hyax pressuring him to go for dinner.
Back in his human life he’d been a police inspector. A laudanum habit had seen him drift down the wrong alley a few too many times and it made it onto his record, therefore he couldn’t be considered for the modern Metropolitan police’s paranormal division. After the best part of a century drifting he’d become a private detective, more to have something to do with his time than for the need for money. It was not lost on him that Detective Chief Inspector Goya thought he was little better than pond scum with legs. His own taxonomy was in question but from Goya’s overbite and propensity to growl, Gwil was convinced he was at least part werewolf.
“Ah, Gwilym Hilt, glad to see you can still find your way to Scotland Yard.”
“To be fair DCI Goya, back in my day it was in a different bit of the city.” Politeness was his best option, and he would not make any comments about fleas or ask if Goya needed to go walkies.
“In your day the modern police force still thought stovetop hats were an acceptable form of attire.”
“Those of us under six foot appreciated the extra inches.”
Goya scowled. “I’m busy, Hilt. So let’s cut to the chase. This report you’ve filed, is it true?”
“Of course it’s true. Do you think I’d file a report with that sort of content as a joke?”
“I guess not even you are that much of an arsehole to falsely accuse the elves of flooding the drugs market with contaminated supply.”
He supposed that was as much of a compliment as he’d ever get from Goya. “I know you’re working with Hyax’s family about a missing jewel. He believes the elves are involved and are using it for this side of their business.”
“Seems a lot of hard work to manipulate some chemicals.”
Goya was either being small-minded or deliberately obtuse. “Come off it. This is worth millions, year in year out and they can do it using a magic source that wouldn’t be tracked back to them. People have done much worse for less.”
“I concede you have a point there. Is Prince Hyax sure it’s the elves?”
“Positive. He said from the sample of Stardust he examined the elves’ signature was unmistakable.”
Goya sat back in his chair. “Stardust isn’t the only one of their concoctions. The contamination has caused some nasty side effects in some, but for most it just reduces their inhibitions… doesn’t make them do anything that was outside of the scope of their normal behaviour. No worse than most humans and alcohol.”
“So are you saying that this version of Stardust wouldn’t force them to do something they didn’t want to do?”
Goya sighed. “Surely that was obvious by the way I described it? The drug won’t change a person’s fundamental desires or needs.”
They’d feared the worst, that the drug would make whoever ingested it susceptible to do anything they wouldn’t normally. The thought of the kiss made his mouth go dry—that had to mean Hyax had wanted to kiss him.
“Right.”
“But, as I said, it isn’t the only thing the elves are possibly involved with and if they do have the Stone of Ljin then that could be problematic.”
They hadn’t thought Goya had known which fae jewel was missing, thinking he’d been told it was just one of the crown jewels but not the significance. His blind spot had led him to underestimate Goya, as he had either figured it out or had a better informant network that he’d given him credit for.
“Then I would say we have a problem. We’ve no doubt they’ve got it.”
“The fae would not be happy with the elves connection. The loss of the stone would be bad enough.”
