Who Needs Enemies

“If they can take an ogres weight, they can take yours.” I sat down next to Lyle. The old elf hadn’t acknowledged the arrival of his kin in any way. I wasn’t sure whether this was a good thing or bad.

“Ogres. God.” Gilroy pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, brushed the seat, then sat.

My father continued standing. “We’re here, as requested. Ask your questions.”

Lyle finally raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot and glinted with sapphire fire, but there was little emotion to be read in his expression. “Did you kill Mona?”

Gilroy looked shocked. Ever the actor; ever the politician. “I certainly did not.”

“But you wanted her dead, didn’t you?” Lyle’s voice was little more than a growl. “She was trying to blackmail you, and you wanted her dead.”

“Please, cut the dramatics, uncle.” Just for a moment, there was a hint of Bramwell’s steel in Gilroy’s voice. “I paid her off, end of story. The bitch wanted more, granted, but she was very much alive the last time I saw her.”

I could sense no lie in his words, but then, would I? Bramwell would have schooled him on the proper responses on the journey over here, of that I had no doubt.

“She might have been alive when you last saw her, but what about the men you sent after her?”

Gilroy snorted. “I wouldn’t waste the time or money on the bitch. In fact, I told her to go to the press. We’d see who they believe soon enough—and it wouldn’t have been a two bit siren past her prime.”

Lyle jumped to his feet, face mottling. “You bastard! She was good enough for you to bed, so what right have you-”

I saw his fist clench and lurched upright, grabbing his arm. He turned on me and, just for a moment, the hatred aimed at Gilroy shone on me. I shivered. There was no love there. No friendship. It was almost if kinship didn’t exist and we were nothing but strangers. Then he blinked and the moment was gone, but it left me feeling decidedly uneasy.

“Damn it, Harriet, let go of my arm.”

“Not until you sit down.”

“I am not a child-”

“Then stop acting like one and sit.”

“No. I’m going out for a cigarette.”

I frowned. “But I thought you wanted to hear what-”

“I’ve heard all I need to hear.” He pulled free of my grip and stomped out, leaving me somewhat confused. Why demand to come here, then not hear the entire story? Did that mean he believed Gilroy was telling the truth?

“Is that all, Harriet?”

I sat back down. “Certainly not, brother of mine.”

Irritation flashed through Gilroy’s thin cheeks. “Do not call me that-”

“Why not? It’s the truth, even if you and our father have no wish to acknowledge it.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the table. “Was Mona pregnant with your child?”

Just for a moment, he looked totally thunderstruck. It was the first honest expression I’d seen so far, and it told me everything I needed to know. If she was pregnant, he hadn’t known about it.

Then the mask of disdain slipped back into place. “I am not so careless as to allow a whore to conceive my child.”

“Accidents happen. Hey, I’m here blighting your existence thanks to one such occurrence.”

“Mona was not carrying my child.”

“Then what did she threaten you with?”

“I told you—she threatened to go to the press with our relationship.”

“So there was never a mention of photos?”

Gilroy hesitated. Bramwell said, “Tell her.”

He grimace. “She said she had proof. She didn’t say what type and I didn’t ask. She demanded money in exchange, I gave it to her, but she reneged and wanted more. I walked out. End of story, as I said.”

“How much did she demand?”

“Initially? Two hundred and fifty thousand.”

He said it without even blinking. But then, that sort of money was pocket change to people like Bramwell and Gilroy. “And the second time?”

“One hundred and fifty. I told her I had no intention of being blackmailed for the rest of my life, and to go ahead and do her worst.”

“It would have killed your political aspirations.” My gaze was on Bramwell more than my brother. He was giving away little, but I knew Gilroy’s aspirations were just as much his.

“Short term, yes,” Gilroy agreed. “But long term? People forget. In this day and age, a single politician having a little fun is not quite the scandal it was back when you were born.”

“Gilroy learned from my mistakes,” Bramwell said, voice quiet and yet holding the sharpness of a knife. “If the siren was pregnant, it was not his.”

I believed him. He might not be telling me everything he knew, but I could sense no lie in his words when it came to the pregnancy. Although these two were well versed in telling the world what they wanted to hear, and it might be that I didn’t know them well enough to sense fact from fiction.

“Why were you and James Logan arguing?”

“There was no real reason. I stopped the stupid bastard from punching the siren and he started in on me.”

So much for thinking James was as spineless as Gilroy. “Did he say why he was about to punch her?”

He snorted. “Yeah, he said the stupid bitch was attempting to blackmail him.”

I glanced up at Bramwell. “Is this when Frank Logan got involved?”

“I have no idea whether James confided in his brother or not. I merely presume he did, as I cannot imagine James would have been able to produce that sort of cash on his own.”

Meaning I might just have to talk to Frank. “I don’t suppose James gave any indication about what she was blackmailing him with? I mean, he wasn’t a politician, so she could hardly threaten his reputation.”

Gilroy sniffed. It was a disparaging sound. “Trust me; I did not talk to the man any more than I had to. But he did have a habit of reproducing unwisely, so there’s a good chance it was his if she was pregnant.”

“Who was pregnant?” Lyle said from the doorway. “Mona?”

I groaned inwardly. This was all I needed. I turned around. Lyle stood in the doorway, his face as dark as thunder. The Elven discipline of being in complete emotional control had well and truly slipped.

“It’s just supposition, given she could hardly use the same sort of blackmail threat on James as she did Gilroy.”

“A siren becoming pregnant would be a far greater threat to Gilroy than it would James,” Lyle snapped. “So if she didn’t use the pregnancy possibility to threaten Gilroy, why the hell would she bother with James?”

Good question—and one I didn’t really have an answer for.

“Because,” Bramwell said, voice hard, “If she’d had a long standing relationship with James, she’d more than likely have established a connection, and would probably have discovered that James was in danger of being disinherited if he produced one more by-blow.”

“Connection?” Lyle looked at me, confusion evident. “What sort of connection?”

“It’s similar to telepathy,” I said, meeting my father’s gaze evenly. “It’s rare, simply because sirens rarely form such long term attachments.”

But Bramwell and my mother had, and I very much suspected that was part of the reason mother had never felt truly bitter about the way he’d treated us at the end. Somewhere deep in the darkest reaches of his mind, she must have sensed some caring.

Lyle grunted. “It’s still a stupid supposition to make, Harriet.”

“Perhaps it is,” I agreed. “But we still have to consider it as a possibility when nothing else seems to make sense.”

“We do not have to consider anything,” Bramwell cut in. “There has been enough of this foolishness already. Will that be all?”

“If I remember any other questions, I’ll be in contact.”

“Then ring at the office,” Bramwell said. “Come along, Gilroy.”

My brother dutifully rose then dusted imaginary specks of dust from his suit. “I can’t say it’s been a pleasure, Harriet, because it hasn’t. You have a nasty little mind.”

“Maybe, but you’re the one with the nasty little habits, brother.”

He looked down his nose at me for several seconds, then turned and left.

Bramwell half turned to follow, then paused and met my gaze again. In those sapphire depths, fury mingled with death.

“Threaten my son’s future,” he said, voice soft, vehement. “And you will not see the sun rise on another day.”

For several seconds I couldn’t respond, pinned not so much by the threat, but the sheer depth of the anger and hate that briefly resonated in his eyes.

Anger I could understand, given the circumstances, but where did the hate come from?

“The only one threatening your son’s future is himself,” I somehow managed to retort. “Perhaps you should sit him down and explain the political facts of life to him. Sooner or later, his affair with Mona would have come to light, and you of all people know what that can do to political aspirations.”

“The Mona situation I can control. You I cannot.”

He couldn’t control his brother, either, and of the two of us, Lyle was the more dangerous.

Still, I couldn’t exactly be unhappy about the fact he’d realized I wasn’t someone he could manage on a day to day basis—unlike my brother.

“See you around,” I said, a little more cheerfully than I otherwise would have.

“Not if I can help it.” And with that, he turned and followed Gilroy out the door. It slammed shut behind them.

“Well, that was fucking useless,” Lyle said in disgust.

“No, it wasn’t. It was quite the opposite, actually.”

Lyle leaned his arms against the back of the chair to my right, and gave me a somewhat sullen look. “In what way?” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">