Babylon Steel Read Free

somehow. He moves between the different levels of society smooth as a dancer, but he always seems to skate the surface; runs a gambling den called the Singing Bird, and has a reputation for being a very dangerous man with his fingers in a lot of pies. That sort of client can be an asset, or a major liability.
    He’s also the most devastating thing on two legs in Scalentine.
    Flower had shown him into the red room (the one we call ‘Punters’ Parlour’ among ourselves). It has red divans with masses of cushions in all the shades of a rose garden, (including pink and yellow – Laney’s choice – you wouldn’t think it would work, but it does), and some pictures. Sexy pictures, but subtle; I don’t like paintings that look like an instruction manual, and they can have the opposite effect to what’s intended.
    The red room’s the biggest room we have, but it was verging on packed. There were two other punters: one was a new face, young and nervous-looking, the other was an elderly and delightful clockmaker who turned up mainly to reminisce about his wild younger days with whoever was prepared to sit around with very few clothes on and listen, though he could still be pretty sprightly when the mood took him.
    The rest of the crowd was made up of the crew. Laney, in three wisps of green silk that matched her eyes, was perching on the arm of the clockmaker’s chair, gesturing extravagantly as she pretended to believe some outrageous story, and everyone else was either offering Fain a drink, plying him with food, or just gawping. Essie, a curvy, pretty creature with dark curls and cinnamon freckles, was holding out a plate of pastries, Jivrais was pouring a large glass of the really good wine, and Ireq was leaning against the wall, watching. Flower was in the kitchen, but the Twins were hovering, and they didn’t usually pay much attention to what they called the ‘prose punters.’ No-one was paying any mind to the new lad. Not good. I was going to have to do some dressing down.
    Hard to blame them, though, when you saw Fain.
    He was seated on one of the sofas, with a glass in his hand and a plate of pastries at his elbow. I have rosy-shaded lamps in there; they give a rich, flattering light. Fain didn’t need it: with those dark eyes, high cheekbones and glossy black hair, he would look good under a noonday sun. Unlike some new clients, he looked utterly at ease.
    This all went through my head in less than a moment. Fain had spotted me as soon as I walked in, and stood up. Everyone else did too, even the clockmaker.
    It made me nervous. It’s been a long time since people did that when I entered a room.
    “Madam Steel.”
    “Mr Fain. I hope you’re being looked after?”
    “Quite charmingly. But I wonder if I might beg the privilege of a private word with you?” He had a voice like velvet-clad fingers running down one’s naked back.
    “Certainly. I’ll be with you in just a moment.” I held out my hand to the young lad, who bent over it and stammered something about it being an honour. “I just came to... I mean I thought... I’m terribly sorry...”
    I managed to get out of him what it was he was after, and sent him off with Ireq, an ex-soldier. Ireq had sleek grey fur and rich brown eyes, and the fact that he had one arm missing below the elbow didn’t seem to hamper his popularity and might actually have enhanced his inventiveness. He was taciturn to the point of near muteness, but lots of people seemed to like that. He’d know how to deal with the boy’s nerves. I ordered everyone else back to their duties, sharply enough to let them know I was peeved, and took Fain into the blue parlour, aware of more than a few envious looks directed at me as I went.
    “This is an unexpected pleasure,” I said.
    He settled himself into a chair like a cat into a sunbeam. “You run a very pleasant house, Babylon. I’m already regretting that I haven’t been here before.”
    “Now you are, what can I do for