Edge of Midnight (McClouds & Friends #4)(99)

Liv blushed. “After the stories Sean tells, I’m gawking too.”

“Oh, Sean talks too much,” Erin said cheerfully. “Don’t listen.”

Tam spun around and blocked the parade. “Erin. I finished a new piece recently,” she announced. “I want to name it for you. May I?”

Erin looked startled. “I suppose. Wow. Could I see it?”

Tam’s smile took on a catlike satisfaction. “Certainly. Right this way.” She led them down a corridor, and up into the octagonal tower, a workroom paneled in dark wood, the effect both stark and lavish.

Entire walls were covered with tiny catalogued drawers. Bars of powerful lighting hung from the high ceiling. Mysterious chunks of machinery were bolted to the heavy worktables. Strange, twisted metal things like tormented mobiles from a goblin’s dreams spun lazily in the breeze from the window. With the tree poking through the clouds, the smell of metal and chemicals, and the backdrop of the sound of the heaving surf down below, it seemed like an ancient alchemist’s lair.

“The finished pieces are here.” Tam led them to a table draped with black velvet and lit with its own bar of lights. Several polished wooden boxes sat on it. Tam flipped one open, and presented it to Erin.

Liv’s breath stopped, the piece was so startling, although upon second glance, the design was simple. It was a torque, meant to be worn around the neck, of twisted white gold, smaller threads of subtly colored gold woven through it. The finials were an intricate snarl of golden knotwork, with glowing red stones.

“It’s like Novak’s torque,” Erin said. “Except…different. Oh, Tam. It’s gorgeous.”

Tam looked pleased. A flick of her thumb opened the torque. She fitted it around Erin’s neck. “Watch carefully. If you’re ever in a tight spot, press the garnet, push on this lever here, and there you go.” The finial came off, proving to be the decorated hilt of a small, curved blade.

“Wow,” Erin stared at the wicked looking knife. “I’m honored.”

“You should be,” Tam said. “Asking price is two hundred K.”

Liv’s jaw dropped. “People pay that kind of money?”

“You bet.” Tam dug into her pocket, and passed the cards around. Deadly Beauty: Wearable Weaponry. Tamara Steele. “Most people capable of paying that much money for a piece of novelty jewelry are very insecure. Take your standard mafioso mistress whose lover could be mowed down by a rival boss from one day to the next. An item like this will make her feel safer. Even if the safety is totally fictitious.”

“Are there a lot of mafioso mistresses out there?” Liv asked.

“Plenty. Mafioso wives, too. Lots of money and fear in the criminal underworld. Perfect market for Deadly Beauty. I call this series ‘Margot.’ With your permission, of course.”

They gasped at the assortment of hair ornaments. They seemed to pulse with trapped light. The designs were intensely sensual; feminine curves, slashing angles. Simplicity juxtaposed with tormented intricacy.

“Where did you learn how to do this stuff?” Raine asked.

“My father was a goldsmith. I was his apprentice ’til I was fifteen.”

There was a startled silence. Liv looked at the glances flashing between the other women, and realized that Tam volunteering details about her mysterious past was a first time event for all of them.

“What happened when you were fifteen?” Erin asked.

Tam waved her hand, fanning the past away from her as if it were a bad odor. “He died,” she said curtly. “I got apprenticed to somebody else. Look at this one.” She held up another pin. “Based on the spray model that you all know and love, but if you press this topaz…” She held it up. A needle glinted, so fine it was barely visible. “Load it with poison, or a sedative, depending on your needs. And there’s the old classic.” She picked up a horn shaped clip, twisted the knob, and pulled out a blade. “You can treat the blade with poison, if you don’t trust yourself to hit a vital organ or artery on the first stab.”

“Is this grisly exhibition necessary?” Sean cast an uneasy glance at Liv. “You’re freaking me out.”

“Leave the room, if you have a weak stomach,” Tam said.

“Is that blade longer than four inches?” Connor’s voice came from the open door. “Any longer than that, and you’re carrying concealed.”

“Certainly it’s longer. What a foolish question, Con. Four inches plus one millimeter.” Tam’s voice was smug. “It’s a matter of principle.”

The menfolk jostled Con aside and filed into Tam’s studio, looking around themselves with wary fascination.

“You guys were supposed to stay at the island,” Seth complained.

Raine gave him a cheerfully apologetic shrug.

“Actually, I came to get you,” Erin said to Connor. “Cindy called to invite us to her gig at the Paramount. I want to keep an eye on her, if she’s on stage with this psycho out on the loose. She’s staying with us, after. I don’t want her at Mom’s all alone while Mom’s on vacation.”

Connor groaned. “You couldn’t just tell her to blow off the gig?”

“I tried,” Erin said. “She said I was insane for even suggesting it.”