Page 20 of Bleeding for the Prince
“Not going to see what you don’t look for; why would you care about ill-will to anyone who’s not a vampire? To be fair, goblins don’t tend to do well with non-goblins, but it is discrimination, and you can help me circumvent it.”
He didn’t think he would have the power, or if he’d want to exercise it if he did. “Right. I’m not sure I have the clout to get you in.”
Copperpipe sucked his teeth. “Your pretty princeling would.”
“True, but I’m not sure he’d be willing to come with us.” There was no way Hyax would be seen out with Copperpipe, especially if it involved having to watch him eat.
“You are being employed by Dante’s owner, tell him I can help and it will happen.”
“How do you know that?”
Copperpipe tutted. “What other reason would you be doing this?”
“All right. But you’re not exactly dressed the part. If you could scrub up a bit, we could at least see what happens if I ask the doorman to let you in. They don’t have a dress code as such, but I do think you need to up your game a fraction. Maybe a clean sack?”
Copperpipe rolled his eyes. “For someone with such poor dress sense, you are so obsessed with clothes, Fang Face. I am decent. I’ve nothing showing that would make a lady scream or a man faint.”
Gwil didn’t want to know what was under Copperpipe’s sacking that could elicit such a response. “I get that you’re covered, but what you’re covered with is hardly the sort of thing you can wear to Dante’s. They can deny entrance for many reasons, not just because they consider you enough of a goblin.”
Copperpipe’s nostrils flared. He had never seen him properly angry. “I can dress like a streetwalker, just you wait.”
He disappeared in a puff of smoke, which Gwil didn’t realise Copperpipe could do before he could suggest an outfit. He could only hope that he hadn’t meant streetwalker in the sense of a prostitute, as he couldn’t bring his mind to occupy the space that would generate an image which wouldn’t need bleaching from existence. He really hoped there wouldn’t be stripper heels.
Gwil noticed a glob of snot on his desk and decided it would be better to reprint the invoice it had seeped into rather than try to clean off the mess, and was in the process of swearing at his printer when Copperpipe reappeared. Gone was the sacking and the dirt and instead, he was in black and white evening dress complete with spats, a walking cane and a top hat.
“Fucking hell.”
“See, I can dress up,” Copperpipe said, and noticed he also had a monocle and was carrying a pair of white gloves.
“You put me to shame.”
Copperpipe sniffed. “That is not so hard. I did not have to change to do that.”
“For someone who wants me to get him into a fancy store, you’re being a bit rude.”
“You want my help, this is my price.” He stood straight, coming roughly up to Gwil’s hip. “Let us go. You may call a black cab.”
Gwil could refuse, but Hyax would be pissed off he’d squandered a chance to get Copperpipe on board, as for all Hyax’s sniping, he was more than aware of how useful Copperpipe could be, even if he didn’t want to deal with him directly. “All right.”
He shot off a text to Daniel Moreton to inform him he would be visiting with a friend and to ask the door staff to turn a blind eye and let them in, and another to Hyax to let him know what was going on. The answering GIF of a potato laughing was below the belt.
The London cabbie gave Copperpipe a double take, but he’d probably had more exotic creatures in the back, and it was after rush hour, so the traffic wasn’t too bad, apart from the mass of London buses on the same route, slowing everything down. He paid the fare, hopped out and held the door open for Copperpipe, who was taking his sweet time. He peered back inside to hear him giving the cabbie horse racing tips.
Copperpipe tapped him with his cane after he had clambered down. “You should treat your drivers well. If he listens, he should make a pretty penny.”
He wished he’d caught the information because he reckoned Copperpipe would have some great inside information. “Keep close. I have sent word we’re coming, so if all goes to plan, there shouldn’t be any issues.”
They approached the doorman, and Gwil did spot a couple of infrared signs on the side of the building that wouldn’t bevisible during the day nor understandable to humans. One was a picture of a goblin with a cross through its head.
“Sir,” the doorman, who was one of the smaller troll species that had less trouble with buttons than many of his ilk, said, “Dante’s has a strict entrance policy in regards to clientele. You are quite welcome, but your… friend is not.”
“I have special dispensation to bring my friend.”
He didn’t want to have to call Howard Squire directly, but he would if he had to, and he was saved from having to pull the don’t-you-know-who-I-am? card by the arrival of Daniel.
“Mr Hilt is correct, Topaz, please let him and his guest through.”
Daniel’s expression was on the pinched side. “Is there somewhere specific you’d like to go?”
