Sidhe favors

Marcone’s little castle had a large central hall that took up what had to be a goodly portion of its ground floor.
The room was lit by chunks of glowing crystal mounted in sconces. Brownie work, unless I missed my guess, by the faint tinge of spring green and yellow coloring various pieces of white quartz—itself a potent charm against dark magic when properly attuned. That got my attention, right away. Summer Court work was unmistakable.
And apparently, Baron Marcone had convinced them to help him.
Music played from somewhere nearby, from live musicians, perhaps in an alcove behind some light curtains. I didn’t recognize the composer of the little chamber orchestral piece, but that mostly meant that it wasn’t Vivaldi. One of the Germans was as close as I could get. Whoever was playing, they weren’t human. It held too much exactitude, too much unity in the tones, as if one mind had been playing all the instruments, and the shivering notes of perfect harmony it cast brought forth the ancient enchantment of music that had nothing to do with magic. That was Sidhe work, or I’d eat my tie, and from the sheer murderous precision of it, members of the Unseelie Court were responsible.
And they were playing for Marcone’s party. Something that crowd did not do just for kicks—if they were doing this for a mortal, it was because they were paying off a favor.
I thought about the vaults we’d partially wrecked in the basement of Marcone’s bank, where he’d been entrusted with protecting assets from a dozen different supernatural nations at least. Just how many markers had Marcone given out? How many truly scary beings were in the man’s debt?
I frowned. The robber baron of Chicago was becoming a real concern.
And the hell of it was, I wasn’t sure the residents of my town weren’t at least partly better off for it. For all the harm he dealt out to the world, Marcone’s people had taken the fight to the Fomor when they’d been hitting the town.


Peace Talks Chapter 20, page 189-190