Phélan tends to steer clear of his family.
‘This isn’t a connection you’re happy about,’ I surmised.
Phélan didn’t answer right away. He was watching Lysander’s doings with an intent interest, and his face had gone hard and cold.
Abruptly, he looked away. Back at me. ‘He’s not so bad. But he is a damned fool.’
With which words, he rose and abandoned our table, heading for Nelo Lysander.
I followed.
Nelo looked nothing like Phélan, but then, the connection between them was likely remote. He had short-cropped brown hair, a style of dress that was casual to the point of slobbishness, a smiling mouth, and intensely pale eyes. Eerily pale. He looked like the kind of guy who could look up the ghost of your great-grandma, have a cosy chat, and then eat her for lunch.
Which is to say he was
