Stealing Phoenix (14 page)

A white stretch limousine had been hired for the evening. What the chauffeur made of picking up the little party of the Seer, Kasia, Dragon, Unicorn, and me outside a rundown estate, he was too wise to share with us. The Seer wore his usual white suit; Dragon and Unicorn were in black dinner jackets. Kasia had found a white beaded cocktail dress with matching bolero, the better to display her pearls. She had gone overboard with her cosmetics and hair products, ending up a bit too much like Marge Simpson by the time she’d finished. I’d been ordered to wear a violet silk gown, cut to fl atter my slight build. Long enough to cover my scratched knees, it kept shoulders bare, the better to display the long trail of diamonds around my neck. With a disapproving cluck of her tongue, Kasia had earlier repaired my poor haircut with a pair of deft scissors, then set it in an upswept style so the droplet earrings fashioned to match the necklace could be seen. She had taken out my extra earrings, replacing them with discreet studs, making me look less ‘street’ and more classy. With a pair of delicate silver sandals, I felt worthy of my seat in the back of the car.

The narrow streets of the East End gave way to the tower blocks of the City, great canyons filled with traffic fumes, late-working bankers and stockbrokers.

‘Who are we going to meet tonight, sir?’ Unicorn asked, careful not to push too hard with his questions after his earlier slap-on-the-wrist.

‘Some allies: those of us with the gift that stand against the Savant Net.’ The Seer sprawled on the rear seat with only room for Kasia beside him. He studied my appearance as I sat facing him. ‘You look very elegant, Phoenix. I am pleased.’

Kasia preened under the implied praise of her skills. ‘I did my best with her.’

‘Thank you,’ I choked out.

‘You will come into the meeting but I do not want you to say anything unless asked a direct question.’ He gave a wheezing cough. ‘Understood?’

‘Yes, sir.’ I rubbed my fingers against the smooth fabric of my gown, marvelling at the softness. I’d never felt anything like it before.

The Seer smiled. ‘I see you are fond of life’s little luxuries. If you do as I say, I can promise you much more like that in the future.’

He had got the wrong girl. I might like pretty things but I wasn’t to be so easily bribed. I’d wear sackcloth and ashes if that meant I could escape him. ‘Thank you, sir.’

The Seer tapped his stomach with his slug fingers. ‘Perhaps you should call me “Daddy” tonight. It will make the right impression.’

I’d prefer to get in a bath of live snakes.

Unicorn and Dragon couldn’t help exchanging an alarmed look at this concession.

‘Only Phoenix,’ the Seer warned. ‘A daughter may take such liberties; my sons will carry on treating me with fear and respect. I will not lose face with these men.’

Who could we be meeting that even the Seer felt in awe of them? I’d never seen him doubt his image before, but then I’d never seen him step outside the confines of the Community. Perhaps this, for him, was like a reunion of petty despots in the margins of the United Nations General Assembly, all lining up to measure who was the biggest human rights abuser.

The car swung into the Waldorf and a uniformed porter rushed to open the door. Dragon got out first to check the lie of the land before helping the Seer on to the pavement. I was the last to follow. Smoothing down my dress to enter the smart entrance hall, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the hotel: it was beautiful. I loved the row upon row of lit windows in a stately sweep of a building, about seven storeys high; the alert staff seeing to the guests’ every need before they even thought of it; the quiet elegance of the place, the opposite of where we had begun our journey. The porter kept his expression blank as he stood back to let the enormous bulk of the Seer inside, though I did see a glimmer of interest as his eyes lighted on my necklace. The diamonds were superb. I had to hope the original owner was not dining in the West End tonight.

‘May I help you, sir?’ asked the doorman on duty in the foyer.

‘I have a reservation in the restaurant. Name of London,’ the Seer said crisply.

‘Of course, sir. The rest of your party has already arrived.’ The doorman led the way to the restaurant, handing us over to the head waiter. ‘Mr London.’

The waiter conducted us smoothly to a table in a private dining room at the rear of the restaurant. We had to weave our way through the diners sitting at the white-clothed tables; candles, flowers, and silver and glassware all adding to the atmosphere of privilege. I saw a couple in one corner holding hands, the man brushing the woman’s fingers tenderly with his thumb. Something that felt suspiciously like sorrow brought tears to my eyes.

Yves.

Phee, where are you?

I’d reached out to him even though I hadn’t meant to. Kasia sent me a startled look. I shook my head slightly and blocked the connection I’d made. She nodded, acknowledging that I had repaired my mistake.

Entering the dining room, we found six men sitting around the table, their bodyguards standing against the wall behind them. They stood politely to shake the Seer’s hand.

‘Gentlemen, I hope I am not late?’ The Seer gasped a little after walking from the car, a marathon to one who spent all day on a sofa.

The ginger-haired man at the head of the table shook his head. ‘No, Mr London, we had only just got around to ordering drinks. I’m New York.’

The Seer smiled a little queasily. He was not comfortable to hear that they had all had a chance to discuss him before he arrived. ‘Good to meet you at last.’

The others muttered their names as he went round to greet them: Moscow, Beijing, Kuala Lumpur, Sydney, Mexico City. No real names, only locations.

The Seer waved Kasia, Dragon, and Unicorn off to stand with the bodyguards before bringing me forward. ‘My daughter, Phoenix.’

Mr New York took my hand. ‘Charming.’ I could feel his gift brush over me like a cool breeze as he tried to guess my strength. I kept my thoughts blank, not sure how his worked. To be in charge of other Savants required some control of minds so I guessed that all the men in the room had skills in that direction. Baffled but not disappointed, Mr New York let go and clicked his fingers for the waiter. ‘Another place for Miss London. Perhaps here between her father and me.’

So Mr New York had appointed himself as the ringleader, had he? I glanced around at the other faces of the men gathered; none protested, but neither did they look entirely pleased by the arrangement.

Mr New York decided to make a joke of it. ‘I apologize, gentlemen, for monopolizing the fairest dinner companion. My only excuse is a delight in beautiful women.’

Two waiters hurried forward with place settings and an extra chair. When I took my seat, everyone else sat down, a weird, old-fashioned gallantry that did not fool me that they cared in the least for my presence among them. They were merely aware they were on show before strangers and were going through the motions of polite behaviour.

Mr New York signalled to the staff to begin taking our orders. I stared at the long list of choices on the menu, unable to understand the curly writing. Here my patchy education let me down. My experience of restaurants was limited to fast food.

‘Phoenix, that’s a pretty name.’ Mr New York snapped his menu closed, having made his decision.

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Call me Jim.’ He winked, his gaze lingering on the diamonds. ‘So, you are the apple of your daddy’s eye, are you? Bet you got him twisted round your little finger.’

I shivered, aware that the Seer was listening. ‘No, sir. Mr London keeps us all under strict control.’

‘Ah, that rare thing: an obedient daughter. Maybe you could come and give my girls lessons, at least get them to keep a lid on their account at Bloomingdales?’ He chuckled at his own joke. The waiter bent at his shoulder. ‘The quail’s eggs followed by the shoulder of lamb.’

‘Excellent choice, sir,’ murmured the waiter obsequiously. ‘Miss?’

The words danced before my eyes, so many unfamiliar terms. ‘Is there a vegetarian option?’ I whispered.

The waiter’s eyes softened a little. He gestured to the curly ‘V’ entered by the vegetarian dishes. I am so dumb sometimes.

‘Vegetarian? What are you doing, London, allowing your daughter to starve herself of protein?’ scoffed Mr New York. ‘I invest in prime beef herds in Argentina; I find it difficult not to take non-meat eaters as a personal slight.’

The Seer frowned. ‘My daughter will have the foie gras and the Angus steak.’

The waiter hovered at my side, bravely giving me time to correct the order. ‘Miss?’

‘I’ll … I’ll have what he said.’ My nails curled into my palms, leaving little half-moon pressure marks.

‘And how would you like the beef done?’ His voice was gentle.

‘She’ll have it medium-rare,’ interrupted Mr New York. ‘If we are to make a convert of her, she should eat it at its best— not dried out like a hunk of old boot leather.’

The serving staff withdrew, leaving the dining room devoid of outsiders to our little meeting.

‘So, Mr London, did you get the information you promised us?’ asked a man further down the table; Mr Sydney if I remembered correctly.

The Seer sipped sparkling water from a wide-bellied glass. ‘No. They had it rigged. The electronics went up in smoke when my operative stole them.’

A ripple of disappointment went round the table.

‘I see. I suppose I would’ve been disappointed had our enemies been so easily compromised.’ Mr New York exchanged a glance with Moscow and Beijing. I could tell they had little respect for their host. ‘But tell us, London, why exactly are you here, then? I thought it was understood that this data was the price of your entry to our organization?’

The Seer leaned back, the chair creaking under his bulk. ‘Because I have something better to put on the table.’

Before anyone could comment, the waiters were back with the first course. A plate of pale pink-brown paté was put in front of me. Two lacy cheese wafers sprouted from it like wings. I didn’t bother to pick up a knife and fork as it was clearly animal in origin.

‘Amazing dish, foie gras,’ Mr New York said conversationally, while the waiters circulated, filling wine glasses for the men. ‘They force feed geese to get that velvety texture from the liver.’ He enjoyed watching me turn a shade of green as I pushed the plate away.

The waiter pounced. ‘Miss is not enjoying her hors d’oeuvre? Can I bring you the asparagus soup instead?’

‘Nonsense,’ mumbled the Seer. ‘She loves it, don’t you, Phoenix?’

I picked at the side salad before he forced me to eat a mouthful, like one of the geese that had died to provide the dish.

Defeated, the waiter retired from the fray, taking the rest of the staff with him. They had to be under orders to leave the gentlemen alone between the necessary duties of fetching, carrying, and pouring. The hulk of a bodyguard closest to the door stood in front of it to prevent anyone else entering.

‘Mr London, we would be most interested to hear what you think is better than information.’ Mr Beijing, a tall Chinese man with a narrow face and pebble-hard eyes, invited the Seer to continue.

‘Fate has handed us a gift, a way to bring down the Savant Net from the inside.’ The Seer stabbed a scallop from his plate, smearing butter on the white rim as he mopped up the sauce.

‘Go on.’ Mr New York swirled a straw-coloured wine thoughtfully.

‘I have identified the soulfinder of the sixth Benedict son.’

‘A soulfinder? A rare treat. That indeed would be useful. Where is she?’ The American’s eyes flicked in my direction.

The Seer said nothing but merely looked at me, confirming his guess.

‘Her? Your own daughter?’ Mr New York began to chuckle. ‘Well, if that don’t take the prize!’

‘The irony is delicious.’ Mr Sydney raised his glass to me.

‘As I said, I would bring something better to the table, and here she is.’ The Seer enjoyed his moment of triumph, receiving the congratulations of his new allies. I had been his ticket into their company.

Mr Moscow cleared his throat, ending the little round of praise for the Seer. ‘The question is, how will we use her?’ He studied me, pale green eyes in his square, pasty face suspicious. ‘Is she loyal?’

‘All my people are loyal,’ corrected the Seer. ‘They have to be or they die.’

His statement met with general approval.

‘What had you planned to do with her?’ Mr New York asked, for the first time treating the Seer as an equal.

‘I will seek a meeting with the boy—in secret. Find out how much information he will give in return for her safety.’

Mr New York smiled sceptically and patted the back of my wrist. ‘But he won’t believe you will hurt your own flesh and blood.’

‘Really?’ The Seer’s expression was glacial. ‘Do you doubt me capable of that—and more—to ensure our businesses can function without their interference? Dragon.’

My steak knife leapt into the air then arrowed down to dig the tip into the back of my bare forearm, making a shallow cut. Moving slowly up to my elbow, it drew a line of fiery pain. I knew better than to move—it could be my throat next—but I couldn’t stop the tears springing to my eyes.