‘Exactly. No one has seen a Fomori demon and no one wants to. The Fissure isn’t some cautionary tale to keep children in line, Charlie. The Fomori annexed half of Scotland.’

‘That was almost three hundred years ago. Who cares?’

I rolled my eyes. I was done with this conversation. ‘You can keep your poison. I’m on my way out.’

‘Why go out when you can party with me here?’

I smiled and pointed at his chin. ‘I think you’re drooling,’ I told him. Then I sauntered off, appreciating the fact that I could feel him staring after me. For good measure, I threw in a little extra hip swing. There was an audible sigh from behind. Charlie was a sleazebag for sure but I felt better knowing that my outfit was such a success.

Thankfully, the taxi was already waiting; I didn’t like the idea of hanging around on the street looking like this. I arranged myself on the seat, running through the moves I’d need to make to attract Byron’s attention. When I’d covered various different scenarios and was confident of the possible outcomes, I finally started to relax. Maybe this could even be fun. Maybe.

The moment the taxi pulled up outside the Astor Hotel I slipped into character, nodding imperiously at the doorman who helped me out of the car. There was a nervous moment when I realised just how high my dress was riding up on my thighs but I pulled it down in one fluid movement and strolled inside. From the looks I received from both the staff and guests milling around at the front, my plan was already working.

Taking tiny mincing steps, I made it to the bar without falling over. Then I crooked a finger to grab the bartender’s attention and ordered a glass of champagne. Normally, of course, I drank beer but right now I was selling an image.

It took less than three minutes for the first guy to approach me. ‘Hello there.’ His voice had a definite Cockney twang. That was surprising in itself. Most English people avoided coming to Scotland if they could possibly help it. That was due mostly to superstition about breaks in the Veil but it was also a difficult journey to make. He would have had to cross the Channel to France and then gone overland across Europe and up to Scandinavia. Flying anywhere near the Lowlands was a big no-no. Whatever was going on there caused jiggery-pokery to electrical systems. It just wasn’t worth it.

His lip curled up in a good impersonation of Elvis. ‘I couldn’t help but notice you from my table. That’s some dress. You have good taste.’