Free Diana's Hound: Bloodhounds, Book 4 by Moira Rogers Page A

an inventor would understand the seeming magic behind the construction, “—of a magical sort of glass that allows one to view the boats and sky above.”
    The doorman at the head of the walkway watched them closely, and Diana waited until they were out of earshot to answer. “I should like to avoid that, if possible. Too much like a grave.”
    “As you desire…” Not April. Not here. “Pet.”
    The walk to the Black Lily was short, with only one stop to ask for directions from a man loaded down with playbills and black books, guides to the city’s social life and vice offerings. Nate bought one and tucked it into his vest pocket as they continued.
    The Black Lily stood at the edge of a small square, built of gray brick like the airship tower and marked only by a sign above the door—a delicate flower outlined in black and red. The two stone-faced men manning the wide doors pulled them open, and Nate urged Diana inside ahead of him.
    “You’ve arrived.” A pale man dressed in a velvet greatcoat walked into the main room, a woman on his heels. “Iris, show our guests to my private study. I’ll see to their things and be along in a moment.”
    The woman nodded and dropped a brief curtsy to Nate, her elaborate red and gold gown trailing the floor as she moved. She looked as if she’d stepped out of a painting of a Venice courtesan, complete with miles of pale, bare skin without a bite mark in sight.
    Odd, when she was as human as Ophelia or Satira.
    She smiled at Diana and gestured for them to follow her past the stairs. “Does your lady need anything for her comfort? Food or juice?” The woman’s gaze flickered to the high neck of Diana’s gown. “I could have wine brought, as well.”
    Nate didn’t give Diana a chance to demur. “Yes, please, Iris. To all of the above. It’s been a long flight for both of us.”
    She nodded and led a twisting path through a maze of corridors until he began to suspect they were traveling in circles, and she sought to confuse his sense of direction. When she finally pushed open a door, Nate guided Diana through with a hand at the small of her back.
    The study was more like a library, with twelve-foot ceilings and shelves of books lining every available inch of three walls. A large hearth took up the fourth wall, and Iris led them to several chairs grouped around the fire.
    “Jonah will be along soon,” she told him, gesturing to a padded leather chair large enough to be called a throne. “Your lady can take a seat as well, or select a cushion.” She didn’t wait to see which they’d choose. She simply took her leave, pulling the door shut behind her.
    Nate cleared his throat. “If this man is an associate of Archer’s, there’s no need for you to sit on the floor.”
    Diana flashed him a knowing look. “And if I want to?”
    He couldn’t take that bait. “Sit where you will, love.”
    She dropped across one end of a loveseat. “I’m getting cranky. Ignore me.”
    “Be as cranky as you please.” He smiled wanly. “No one will believe you’re truly a bloodhound if you’re not.”
    The study door swung open. “Forgive my manners. I’ve been finalizing arrangements for a musicale this evening—an event which should draw some attention for you, and a healthy profit for myself. A winning proposition all around.” The vampire stopped in front of the fire with a small bow. “Jonah Knight, at your service.”
    “Mr. Knight.” Nate extended a hand. “Oliver Powell. My associate is April.”
    “And a bloodhound, no less.” Jonah’s light green eyes danced over her as he shook Nate’s hand. “It’s astounding. I cannot sense a thing out of the ordinary. She might as well be human.”
    “You mightn’t,” she said quietly.
    He chuckled. “Yes, well. Archer skimped on details, as you might imagine, but I promised I’d assist you in your mission here. To that end, I would appreciate it if you didn’t kill me.”
    “She won’t,” Nate promised.