Moonlight: The Big Bad Wolf (Black Swan 4) (15 page)

Everybody laughed. Baka raised a glass. "To Motley Crew."

That was repeated joyfully while everyone clinked, smiled, and drank to the end of the worst plague in human history. The dinner guests had started to relax in earnest with another round of clinking, smiling, and sipping.

Sol had instructed Crisp to be discreet about the service since they would be discussing matters for top level clearance personnel. Crisp agreed to peek in and get an okay before delivering and clearing between courses.

Farnsworth had planned the menu around the guests. She knew the women probably wouldn't want to eat a rack of ribs with grease running down their hands and she also knew that the men wouldn't be satisfied with watercress, particularly not Sol, Storm, and Ram. They didn't hold themselves to the punishing regimen of conditioning that active duty knights kept, but the habit of working out was so ingrained that all three still burned a lot of calories and ate more than most.

They were served a colorful salad with endive, arugula, spinach, romaine, strawberry slivers, and feta cheese with a raspberry ranch dressing. After the servers left the room, Sol turned to Deliverance.

"We want to thank you for coming. Again. And for taking care of the vampire."

"No prob," said the demon as he stared at the salad in front of him. He was thinking that it was quite a good joke of evolution that people would shove such things into their mouths and find it appealing.

"Now that you're practically in the family..."

Deliverance looked up at that and looked around the table as if to say, "Wait. What?"

"...we were wondering if we might be able to call on you from time to time for help with various issues relating to slipping dimensions."

The demon looked blank for a minute like he was trying to understand. Litha, who was sitting next to him, said quietly, "He means riding the passes."

"Oh." He nodded, looked around the table again with his gaze coming to rest on Sol. "Of course not."

A small laugh bubbled up from Litha. Her hand flew to her mouth to cover the fact that she had been in the middle of a bite of romaine. When she finished chewing, she said, "That's not how it works."

"I see." Sol shook his head. "No. I don't really. How does it work then?"

"He's a demon. If you want something, you have to give something in return." Deliverance sat up a little straighter and beamed at his daughter like she'd just won a spelling bee.

"Every transaction is a contract. You have to spell out what you want - exactly - and what you're willing to give." An expression crossed Litha's features that indicated she'd had an epiphany. She leaned toward Storm who was sitting on her other side. "Actually I could take something from that model. Maybe I should think about personally instituting that approach with Headquarters."

"But you helped with the vampire situation." Everyone heard the question in Baka's simple statement.

"Yes," said the demon whose eyes swiveled to Elora and remained there, smoldering with suggestion. "But she owes me."

"What?!?" Just in case he missed the challenge in the tone, Ram stood up and threw his napkin down like a gauntlet. "What did you demand of her?"

"He didn't demand anything," said Storm, who leaned over to glare at the demon. "And he's not going to either."

"I agree." Litha was also shooting daggers with her eyes.

"Alright. Alright. Unbunch the knickers everybody. Sometimes I make an exception to my rule and I just decided to except the beautiful elf with Stagsnare hair."

"Stagsnare hair?" Ram looked at Elora's hair and then at Litha. "What in Paddy's Name is he talkin' about?"

Litha answered. "It's the name of the dimension she's from. Her hair color is not unusual there."

Crisp opened the door and leaned in. "Is this a good time?"

Seven people turned toward the door and said, "NO!" Crisp closed the door so quickly it almost slammed shut.

Ram sat back down, but pulled his wife's chair closer to his.

The demon blithely changed the subject. "Properly executed contracts are not the only consideration. There's also the non-interference policy."

"You said that was more a guideline than a rule then added that it isn't enforced."

Deliverance slowly slid his gaze to his daughter and looked at her through impossibly thick, black eyelashes. The look he gave her said he wasn't at all happy. "Using my own words against me? So this is an ambush?"

The others sat in awkward silence while the demon and his daughter stared each other down. At length, Litha's mouth spread into a wicked smile. "Maaaaybe."

Deliverance looked at her for another couple of seconds and then both of them broke into laughter.

Elora leaned toward Baka who was sitting on her left. "I guess the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree." Baka nodded, just as fascinated by the odd behavior as everyone else.

When their mutual laughter ran its course, without taking her eyes away from the demon, Litha asked, "Sol. Would you like me to help you navigate a negotiation? Just until you get the hang of it?"

Deliverance's grin seemed to say, "As if."

"I'm not much of a diplomat," Sol began and Storm quickly stifled a snicker. "I would very much appreciate your tutelage."

"Certainly. First, you need to spell out what you want from him."

"Alright. As a point of clarification, are you saying that each request for service requires its own contract resulting from a unique negotiation? Even if the requests are similar?"

"Yes."

Sol seemed to slip into contemplation. After a few minutes the guests were engaged in typical dinner conversation with each other and the atmosphere was feeling more like a dinner party.

Sol rose, walked a few feet away from the table and made a brief phone call. When he reseated himself, everyone looked at him like they were expecting a profound announcement.

What he said was, "Main course on the way. Let's take a break from negotiating and enjoy our dinner."

Conversation picked up where it had left off. Storm took the opportunity to quietly turn to Glen, who was sitting on his left.

"Just curious. Have you given any thought to your declaration? It's coming up in, what, a few months?"

"Three weeks."

"That soon?"

"Yes. I've given it a lot of thought and have actually been decided since, um, since Helm was born."

"Well, I don't mean to pry."

Glen smiled and for the first time Storm noticed that the kid was not bad looking at all. Might even be a heartbreaker if it wasn't for his misguided sense of style. "S'okay. Somebody has to be the first one I tell."

"You've made up your mind then."

"Yep. Hunter Division. Like Sir Hawking and..." Glen turned a little pink and looked embarrassed, "...and you."

Storm smiled. "That's the worst excuse for an aspiration I ever heard. Where's your ambition? You have everything it takes to be so much better than Ram and me."

Glen beamed like he'd won the lottery. Ram, who was sitting on Glen's left, turned toward them. "Takin' my name in vain again, Sir Storm?"

Storm leaned forward a little. "The kid is declaring Hunter. Three weeks."

Ram looked at Glen like he was a proud father. "Nah. He's much too good for that." He reached out, intending to ruffle Glen's hair affectionately, but found that it had been concrete gelled into perfect spikes. Ram drew his hand back and looked at it like he needed to go wash.

Glen was over the moon, sitting in between his two idols and being praised by both.

When Ram turned back to the conversation between Baka and Elora, Storm spoke to Glen. "How long are you going to be here?"

"I think they were planning to send me back late tonight. Looks like I'm not going to be needed for more French translating after all."

"What do they have you doing in Edinburgh?"

Glen almost rolled his eyes. "Honestly I never know from hour to hour. They have me running all over." He glanced over at Elora and grinned. "And I have to keep an eye on Lady Laiken's puppies. But I was helping with recategorizing the dead case files, the ones that might have been interdimensional events. Also helping with getting The Order plugged in. We're only, like, decades behind in getting the files computerized and securely networked."

"If it's okay with you, I'm going to get Sol to delay your return. Tomorrow I'd like to talk to you about your, um, career."

"Sure." Glen suddenly looked like a much older person. It was a transformation that was a little unsettling for Storm. One minute he'd been talking to a kid who wouldn't be out of his teens for another three weeks. Next minute he was looking into the eyes of somebody who was both mature and self-aware. "That's all you're going to tell me tonight, isn't it?" Storm nodded. Glen shrugged and smiled. "Okay then. I had a date tomorrow night, but I'm sure she'll understand."

Storm nodded, thinking he would place bets that the girl in question was not going to "understand".

Crisp knocked on the door and opened it part way to see if he'd be welcome. Walking like he had a wedgie, he led in a couple of servers pushing stainless steel carts and refused to look at any of the guests. Elora guessed that meant his pride had been stung. Twice.

As the servers began to serve plates of New York strip with lobster on top, garlic smash, and green beans almandine, Elora turned to Jefferson's theatrical, but capable maitre d'. "Crisp, this looks simply amazing."

He sniffed and refused to look at her. "There was a second course of cheese soufflé, but it was ruined and had to be thrown out."

"That's a shame. I know it would have been wonderful, but we just weren't at a good stopping place." She pushed her chair back, rose, and gave Crisp a hug. "Please forgive us. You've always taken such good care of us. We're so lucky to have you and we probably don't thank you nearly as often as we should."

Baka held his glass up. "Hear. Hear. To Crisp."

He glanced around the room, blinking rapidly, as the diners repeated the toast and clinked glasses. Elora grabbed Deliverance's unused wine goblet and poured a little then handed it to Crisp.

"Here. We insist you drink to yourself."

Unaccustomed to having all the attention on himself he looked both flushed and flustered, but was enjoying the moment nonetheless. He began to protest. "Madame, I..."

The diners cut him off by starting to chant his name like it was beer pong. He turned bright red, but downed the wine and held up the empty stem. Everyone cheered and clapped their way back into Crisp's affections.

Ram leaned over to Elora. "You're the best person I know." She smiled at him. "And the sexiest by far."

She gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek and somehow made it unbelievably hot and seductive just before she breathed into his ear, "Don't drink too much. I want you wide awake later."

His lip curled up in one of his smiles that was reserved just for her as he pushed the whiskey tumbler further away. Under the table, where no one was the wiser, he gingerly ran his fingers under the hem of her skirt and inched up her leg. When he reached the garter at mid thigh he froze and sucked air through his teeth before venturing just enough higher to confirm that she wasn't wearing panties. He groaned, murmuring, "Great Paddy, Mrs. You tryin' to find out if an elf's dick can rupture from internal pressure?"

Baka leaned out and said, "Pardon?"

"He just remembered something he needs to do later." Elora smiled and turned back to Ram.

"If your dick is in imminent danger, 'tis your own fault. No one forced you to put your hand up my dress, Sir Hawking."

He pulled back just enough to show her that his lids were heavy. "But you must have suspected that I might." His beautiful mouth twitched just a little. "Am I growin' predictable then?"

She leaned over and breathed in his ear. "Absolutely. I can
always
count on you to deliver." And with that she showed him that two can tease under cover of a white linen table cloth.

When she ran her hand slowly up his thigh, he caught her wrist before she reached her target and whispered in her ear, "You can spend the whole of the wee hours drivin' me past mad if you wish, but unless you're wantin' to branch into performance sex, I'm warnin' you. Do no' tease me more."

She withdrew her hand. "Just remember who started it."

He gave her the signature Rammel killer grin that oozed with promise. "We can discuss that later if you wish. I say you started it when you chose to come 'hello kitty'. With garters. Are they red?" The way he breathed the question into her ear made her eyes close as she gasped a little. It seemed to be a game with him to see if he could still make her blush.

They both realized things had gotten quiet and looked up to find everyone staring at them.

"Welcome back," Storm said.

There was more than one thing that could still make Elora blush.

When the servers were gone, Sol once again turned to Litha.