Page 63 of Better in Black
“Did you see Arabella here? The mermaid that tried to poison Madame Vex?”
“Really? How on earth did she get out of prison?”
“Apparently her uncle is the Knight of All Storms. You know faerie politics; it’s all favors and pulled strings.”
Following the surreptitious gaze of this last gossiping werewolf, Ari observed a beautiful woman with flowing green-and-blue hair sipping champagne at a table beside a large potted fern. Out of water, she had long, shapely legs, encased in a fitted silk skirt. She was gazing avidly at Anna, as if she were starving and Anna was a buttered crumpet.
Ari looked away, uncomfortable.
They found Matthew eventually, holding court with a group of rapt listeners. He looked well, Ari thought, strong and tanned, a dusting of freckles across the backs of his hands. As they got close enough to push their way into the circle around him, he was saying, “—and I could hardly believe it myself, but the parrot knew all the words!”
Next to Matthew was a handsome, strong-featured boy with black hair, watching him with a calm amusement—Sylvain, Ari assumed. Matthew caught sight of them and beamed in delight.
“By the Angel!” he cried. “It’s Anna and Ari.”
Several of Matthew’s companions, Ari noted, looked over with interest. One woman, a faerie with sleepy gold eyes and forest-green skin, murmured, “Why, Anna Lightwood, it has been a long time.”
Matthew came to greet Anna and Ari with hugs. “You both look ravishing, absolutely ravishing. Delighted you’re here, and still together.” He winked at Ari. “Anna is not an easy one to tie down.”
Ari smiled sweetly at him. “I find tying her down isn’t that difficult if she’s in the mood for it.”
Matthew grinned, that luminous, heartbreaking grin that had become famous among his friends. There was something different about him, Ari thought. She’d always liked Matthew, his kindness and easy humor, but now he seemed as if he were settled, somehow. As if something restless within him had found rest.
Along with Sylvain, they followed Matthew to an empty table. A waitress appeared as if by magic (possibly, Ari considered, actually by magic) with a tray of champagne glasses fizzing and golden, and one tall tumbler of clear liquid with a kumquat floating in it, which Matthew took immediately. Sylvain and Anna waved the waitress off, but Ari felt that the evening was going well and took a glass for herself.
“Only soda water for me, you know,” Matthew said, gesturing at the tumbler. “With a squeeze of kumquat.”
“Why a kumquat?” asked Ari.
“Because it’s unusual, and difficult to find,” Anna said. “Because we are all living the bohemian lifestyle”—she grinned—“but Matthew is also an aesthete.”
Matthew toasted her with his glass and took a sip. Ari brought the coupe glass to her nose and let the bubbles tickle it before taking a drink, feeling the energy of the crowd and the drink and the night warm her skin pleasantly.
Small talk ensued. Sylvain and Matthew had come from touring Constantinople with James and Cordelia; James and Cordelia were still there, in fact. They had liked the city very much and had wanted more time to explore it.
“Understandably,” Matthew added. “Constantinople is inspiring. But I wanted Sylvain to meet everyone at home, and I did start to feel a bit guilty about my parents handling two Fairchild babies all on their own.”
It turned out that Anna and Sylvain had met a few times, though didn’t know each other well. “It’s because when I go to Paris, I don’t avoid the Institute like I’m wanted for arrest,” Anna explained, eyeing Matthew wickedly. “I pay my respects to the residents and then I go shopping; that is how it is done.”
Sylvain smiled lazily, stretching his arm along the back of Matthew’s chair. “Matthew has terrible etiquette. We’ve discussed it many times.”
Matthew leaned back against Sylvain’s arm. “Charles and I have an agreement. He manages the etiquette, and I embarrass the family name and spread scandal.”
“It’s what I like about you,” said Sylvain, and brushed a kiss against Matthew’s cheek. Matthew blushed, the blush of the completely besotted. Ari imagined the way he was looking at Sylvain was much like the way she looked at Anna.
Sylvain and Matthew explained that they would be staying in London for a few months, but in the long term planned to split their time between London and a flat in Paris. Oscar, Matthew’s faithful hound, would of course accompany them back and forth. “He’s very good on boats,” said Matthew. He also produced a gift for Anna brought from Constantinople: a beautiful yatagan, its hilt inlaid with gold and jet. Anna held it up to admire it, letting the gold catch the light from the chandeliers above.
“But I haven’t got you anything,” she said apologetically. Which was also unusual for Anna. Normally she would have brought Matthew a gift.
“That’s all right,” Matthew said. “I’m long overdue for a shopping jaunt with you in Jermyn Street. You can get me something then.”
As he was saying this, Ari saw his eyes flick to the side; she followed them to see a tall, willowy woman approaching theirtable—a warlock, Ari quickly realized. Her eyes were completely green, with no white and no iris—just a field of gleaming gold-green. It was striking, Ari thought, and not unattractive, though a bit unnerving not to be able to tell where she was looking.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” she began. “I just had to meet the famous Anna Lightwood. I’m a friend of Hypatia’s—the name is Emerald.”
“Well, any friend of Hypatia’s is a friend of mine,” Anna said, though Ari wasn’t sure she meant it. Hypatia was the owner of the Hell Ruelle, and while she adored Anna, she was highly unpredictable.
“I’ve heard,” said Emerald, leaning closer, “that you are a famous seducer of ladies. Your legends are told often in this place, when you aren’t present to hear. Are they true?”
