Uther smiled down at him. “I don’t think you’re going to be much help, little man.”
Rhys grinned up at him. “One of these days I’ve got to take you into a mosh pit.”
Galen made a happy sound. “Only if I get to go,” he said.
“What is a mosh pit?” Saraid asked.
Cathbodua surprised us all by answering. “It’s an area at a music concert where people dance oddly and often get hurt.” She gave a small smile of her own. “I think Uther in one of them would be worth seeing.”
“I didn’t know you liked modern music,” I said.
“I doubt you know much of anything that I like, Princess Meredith.”
I could only agree. Uther moved out in front of us and the reporters did back up, because he was simply that physically intimidating, but some of the reporters started asking him questions. Again, they seemed to believe he was this Constantine person.
Rhys and Galen stayed wedged on either side of me, with Brust in front, Pendleton in back, and Saraid and Cathbodua to the sides and back of all of us. Sholto stayed at my side as Julian did on the way up, but there was still no hand holding, not until we were clear of the crime scene.
Uther finally came to a stop, because the press was so thick that it was either stop or start stepping on people. Brust used his shoulder mic, probably calling for more help to clear the crowd. I was going to be persona non grata at crime scenes after this, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Uther tried to make things better. “I am Uther Boarshead. I work for the Grey and Hart Detective Agency. I do not make films.”
One female reporter shoved a recorder at him, and said, “Your tusks are bigger than his, more curved. Does that mean that other things are bigger, too?”I asked Rhys in a low voice, “What kind of movies does the other guy make?”
“Porn,” he answered.
I stared at him.
Rhys grinned, and nodded. “Yep.”
“Recent films?” I asked.
“Apparently the films are popular. The big guy has been getting asked for autographs and propositioned when he’s in public.”
I stared at him in horror, because Uther was a very private person. I couldn’t think of many things that would bother him more. I also couldn’t think of a way for it to stop. Most people would just see the outer packaging, and this Constantine was probably the only other Jack-in-Irons in L.A. It was like being the body double for Brad Pitt. People wanted it to be him, and so they didn’t believe you when you said that it wasn’t.
“I take it his costar is fey, not human,” I said, moving in close to Rhys so the reporters just feet away wouldn’t hear.
“His main leading ladies, yes, but he’s done some with humans.”
I looked at Rhys, and his one eye sparkled with appreciation of my surprise. I said, “Rhys, I couldn’t be with Uther and not be hurt, and I’m only part human.”
“My understanding is that the humans are more fluffers and foreplay.”
Galen leaned in and said, “I don’t know, I thought the fey-on-fey films were more shocking. Watching all that go on in such a small place …” He made a face. The sidhe are not easily squicked, so the fact that he made that face said a lot about the squick factor of the film.
“You watched them?” I said.
“Uther wanted to see them, and he didn’t want to watch alone. He invited the men at the agency over to sort of hold his hand.”
I wanted to call and tell Lucy what we’d learned from Jordan but I didn’t dare do so this close to running recorders and sharp-eared reporters.
Sholto drew me in against his body abruptly. Saraid’s hand just appeared and was holding the arm of a man with a tape recorder in his hand. “Please, do not touch the princess,” she said, in a voice that did not match her brilliant smile.
“Sure, sorry,” he mumbled.
She let go of his arm, but he stayed so close to Galen that if we did get to move forward he’d have to move so Galen could step forward at all. The reporter said, “Princess Meredith, what do you think of the reporters going through the window of your cousin’s deli?”
“I hope no one was hurt.”
A woman screamed from just in back of him, “Meredith, did you ever sleep with Uther?”
I just shook my head.
A wave of policemen moved in and began pushing them back, helping us move forward. Sholto kept me pressed against him. Shielding me from as much of the cameras as he could. I was happy to be moving, and happier not to be trapped with the questions. I was used to sex questions about me and the men in my life, but Uther and the other detectives at the agency, except for Roane, whom I’d actually dated, were off that list. I liked it better that way.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
UTHER RODE IN THE FAR BACK OF THE SUV WITH HIS KNEES TUCKED to his chin and his upper body bent until his head was almost between his shins. He looked squished and totally uncomfortable. Jeremy had driven him to the scene in the van, where he fit in the back, but the boss man had to stay behind and continue to try to help the police. I sat in the middle seats with Galen on one side and Sholto on the other. Saraid rode in the small jump seat that was the last seat in the back, which was one of the reasons Uther was wedged so close. Cathbodua rode in front with Rhys. I turned as far as the seat belt would let me so I could see Uther.
He looked like what he was, someone impossibly tall shoved into a normal-size space. But the unhappiness on his face wasn’t about the fit; he was used to trying to fit into a world made for smaller folk.
“How did I miss this whole Constantine problem?” I asked.
He made an umph sound. “You and I once discussed you helping me lift my long fast. You said no, and I respect that. If I started talking to you about pornographic movies featuring another Jack-in-Irons, I feared you might misconstrue my motives.”
“You thought I’d take it as flirting?” I asked.
He nodded, settling his lips around the curve of his curling tusks the way another man might settle a toothpick. It was a thinking gesture for him.
“Bragging perhaps, or even seduction. I’ve had more human women proposition me since Constantine’s movies than ever in my life.” He crossed his big arms over his chest.
Galen turned beside me so he could see the big man, too. “And why is that a problem?” he asked.
“You watched the films. No human woman could survive.”
“Now, that’s bragging,” Saraid said, turning toward him.
“It isn’t,” he said. “It’s truth. I’ve seen what my brethren can do to a human woman. It was one of the worst things I’d ever seen done to a human by a fey, and that includes the nightflyers of the sluagh.” He remembered Sholto too late and gave a glance his way. “I mean no offense, Lord Sholto.”
“None taken,” Sholto said, managing to turn so he could both see the big man better and have an excuse to touch my thigh through my hose. Was it nerves, and if so, why? Why did the conversation make him nervous?
Sholto continued, “I, too, have seen what the royals of the nightflyers do to human women. It is …” He simply shook his head. “It is the reason I forbade them from seducing outside our kingdom.”
“Seduction, you call it,” Saraid said, and gave him a less-than-friendly look. “There are other names for it, Shadow Lord.”
His triple yellow and gold eyes gave as cold a look as her blue, which is harder with a warmer color, but Sholto managed. “I am not a product of rape, if that’s the story that the Unseelie sidhe tell.”
There was a tightening around the eyes that said he’d hit the mark, but all she said out loud was, “You were a babe. How do you know how your birth came about?”
“I know who my father was, and he was not one to take his pleasure unwilling.”
“So he says.” Saraid glared at him.
His fingers began to rub back and forth on the hose that stood between him and my skin. I knew why he needed touch now. “Said, for he died before ever we came to this country. There are pleasures among the nightflyers that do not exist elsewhere.”She made a face, the face Sholto had been seeing on sidhe women from the moment he couldn’t hide the tentacles and extra bits. That old pain was still there etched in his handsome face. He could truly be sidhe now and have it just as a tattoo, but he didn’t forget how he’d been treated when he could do no more than hide it with glamour.
I laid my hand on the side of his neck. He actually startled at the touch, and then seemed to realize that it was me and relaxed into it.
“I do not think there are many among even the Unseelie who would take one of you, spine and all, and call it pleasure,” Saraid said.
“Sholto’s father was not one of the royals, so the spine wasn’t there to be an issue,” I said. I curved my hand around his neck so my fingers could rest at his hairline and the warmth of the back of his neck under his ponytail.
“So he says.” Saraid glared at him again.
Galen’s voice was mild as he said, “So any sidhe woman who would bed a nightflyer would be a pervert of the worst sort?”
She folded her arms across her chest and nodded. “To sleep with any of the sluagh is one of the few evils.”
“I’m a pervert then,” I said.
She looked startled, raising her eyes to me. “No, of course not. He is no longer the Queen’s Perverse Creature. He can be as sidhe as any other with his new magic.”