by WB McKay
"Well, I got there at about—"
"No, no. I'll need you to be quiet for a moment, Sophie." And then she focused on empty space above her coffee table and spoke with someone I couldn't see, even when I pulled up my second sight. The change in my vision illuminated life in the tanks I hadn't noticed, but I'd have to look at that later. Ava was telling this invisible person about me, asking them to contact someone I didn't know so she could ask them about my misadventure last night. She nodded after she'd finished talking and looked back at me. "There. I can't say for sure how long it will be, but she typically answers my calls without much fuss. So, while we're waiting, did you have any fun on your excursion?"
"Fun? Fun?" I rolled my lips tight and then told her, "It was all right."
"Hmm," she said. "Do you go into Volarus much?"
"No," I said, and then amended that with, "Just for work."
"It's been a while since I've been, and then just for supplies. I speak with humans every day though. You, I'm curious about. You don't interact with humans." It wasn't a question. It always prickled when Ava told me things about myself. "Who do you spend time with?"
"Epic and Haiku," I told her.
"Do your swords speak? Are they sentient?" It wasn't sarcasm. I tried to imagine how my swords would be thinking beings. They couldn't—that I knew—at least not on their own, but there were all kinds of ways someone could be trapped in a sword. I found objects like that for work all the time. But to also be communicating... "Sophie?"
"What? Oh, yeah, no. My swords don't talk."
"That's a nice necklace you're wearing," she observed."
What necklace? My hand touched the stones. Oh, right. Did she want my necklace? "It's all right. Are we going to be waiting much longer?"
"Has it occurred to you that the reason you 'don't people' is you don't have any practice?"
"I interact with people plenty at work, as you've pointed out. And what is this, anyway? I feel like I'm being interrogated."
She shrugged. "I'm trying to make conversation while we wait. It's not my fault you make that exceptionally difficult."
"Oh," I said. "Your tanks are really cool."
"Yes," Ava said. "I like them. Oh, Patricia!" It could have been my imagination, but I thought she looked awfully relieved to not have to make small talk with me anymore. I was, too. "You're here. Thank you so much for coming." Ava nodded. "Yes, yes, that's her. Mmm, yes, I see. Well, she did—oh, did she?" Ava was talking about me, I knew that much, but there wasn't anything I could put together from the things she said. I focused instead on trying to see whoever she was talking to, but nothing; I didn't even sense any changes in Ava's magic. All of my other senses failing me, I stretched out a hand toward the space where Ava was looking. Ava slapped my hand away. "You'll have to forgive her, Patricia. It's not you, she's like this with everyone." She leaned back, continuing to ask questions, and I spaced out until she gasped and spun toward me. "You insulted his club!" She turned back to the empty air, mouth gaping, and then her lips curled down in disgust. She rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, fine, yes." And then she pulled something from her pocket and threw it at me. I choked on the bloom of magic.
"What the—oh." A very human looking woman stood on the coffee table, tapping her sparkly shoes. She wore fashions I didn't recognize. Her dress dripped with beads; her hair was short and curled around her head. She was pretty. And annoyed.
"That's better," Patricia said. "Hello."
"Yes, yes," Ava said. "Patricia, this is Sophie. Sophie, Patricia." She gestured between us, pointing at the wrong person for each name.
"What—how—" I couldn't decide what to ask first. Regaining control of my tongue, I asked, "What did you throw at me?" The magic tasted dusty. I couldn't get it off my tongue.
"A charm for your sight."
"Why didn't my second sight work on its own?"
"Patricia is a ghost, dear. You can only see her if..." She rolled her hand in the air near her head. I thought she was searching for the right word, but maybe the gesture meant something I didn't understand. "Think of it as a third sight. Ghosts are always around, and they can see you, but you can't see them. Unless you're me. Or you have this charm."
"And how long is this going to last?" Seeing dead people: not a thing I wanted to do for the rest of my life, thank you very much. Most charms were brief, so I wasn't panicking yet.
"A little while, which is why we should give our attention to the conversation at hand."
"Oh, well, excuse me." Okay, that was a little rude, but a wary glance at Ava made me think she hadn't picked up on it. "Wait. So is this how you find lost things? You ask ghosts? I thought you were a seeker."
Her nose twitched. "I am not a seeker," she said. "You're correct. I ask my friends to help me find things, though my clients don't know that. The living react strangely when they know the dead surround them. We keep those secrets to ourselves."
Patricia snorted.
"Wow," I said, for lack of a better response. I knew there were fae who talked to the dead, but they were considered lower fae, and their magic was typically unique to them, unless they were reapers. Ava was no reaper. Which meant she was unique. She wasn't avoiding the seeker community in the city like I'd assumed. Ava was alone. Like me.
Patricia tapped her foot, and the beads on her dress clinked against each other. She was a ghost, but I'd bet money she was human. "Ava, don't ghosts stay attached to where they died? What's a human ghost doing in Volarus?"
"Volarus is overly populated with human ghosts," Ava said, eyes wide like she couldn't believe I didn't know that. With an apologetic look at Patricia, Ava leaned toward me and whispered, "Blood drinkers."
Now my eyes were wide. That was an awful way to die. I didn't think there were that many of them around anymore. The banshees spoke of them like they were a myth. Death comes to all, my sisters would say, but some are worse than others.
"We don't usually speak of such things," Ava said.
"I'm fine," Patricia said, and then she smiled sweetly. "I got my revenge." I returned Patricia's smile, and she smiled back wider. "I like her," Patricia announced to Ava. It took a second to realize she was talking about me. "If she hadn't insulted him, they might have really liked each other."
"You think so?" Ava asked her, nose doing that bunny twitch again.
Patricia nodded. "She's very... fiery." That had Patricia laughing hysterically and Ava twitching her nose.
"Yes, but the fact remains, she insulted him." Ava shook a finger at me. "You insulted his club!"
"Now, hold on." I wished I was standing instead of sunken in the sofa with Patricia hovering above and the both of them laughing at me. I settled for perching on the arm of the sofa, and when Ava didn't seem bothered, I said, "You keep saying his club. You don't mean—I mean..." I gathered my thoughts. "Does he own Smoke and Mirrors?"
"Oh, yes," Ava said innocently. "Did I fail to mention that?"
My jaw flapped with all the sarcastic comments I was trying not to say. I really didn't like this being nice stuff. Finally, I said, "That would have been good information to have."
"Hmm, I agree. Though, I must say, I didn't imagine you'd insult his club. You were conversing with someone who frequented the establishment. You didn't consider that would upset him, even if he wasn't the owner?"
Patricia tsked.
"I told you I wasn't good at people," I said hotly. "This is your fault. You didn't give me all the information I needed."
"You handle failure with such grace."
"You're really pushing me with this failure crap."
She quirked her head to the side. "It's working so well. Look at you trying to be polite so I'll help you, like I don't already know of your temperament."
"I—you—" I fumed. "You are a pain in the ass, lady."
"Ahh, there you are."
Patricia shook her head. "You two have a strange friendship. It was nice meeting you, Sophie. Good luck with the boy!" She waved a ha
nd and blinked out of existence.
"Did she leave?" I asked.
"Yes. Now, let's get to work. I think I'll help dress you this time."
"Why?"
"For fun," she said brightly, and when I kept staring at her, she added, "He'll be less likely to recognize you if you're dressed differently."
"You think that'll be enough?" I shook my head. "I keep telling you I don't want to do this. Every security system has a loophole. This is what I do. I'll find a way in. I appreciate your help, but I'm going to do this on my own."
"Sophie," she said with great disappointment. "We've been over this."
She was right. We had. But how could she possibly think this would work? "I'll pay the next girl he sleeps with to steal it for me," I said. There. That sounded like a good plan.
Half of Ava's face twitched.
"Are you having a stroke?" I asked, rising to my feet.
"Ugh! I thought I was doing it that time." At my perplexed look, she explained. "I was trying to do the thing you're always doing where you raise one eyebrow."
I raised a brow at her. "That?"
"Show off."
I stretched out a hand and pushed one of her brows up for her. She did the bunny twitch with her nose and swatted my hand away. When I leaned back, she was smiling. Warmly, she told me, "You're a lot of things Sophie, but you're not laid-back enough to trust someone you don't know to do this job for you."
There she was, telling me how I was again. Damned if she wasn't right. There was no way I was going to trust some random person to retrieve something for my job, let alone something personal. I tried to glare at her, but she was being so nice. "You should have told me he owned the club."
"You're right, I should have," she admitted.
She didn't offer an apology, which I respected. She'd been offering me help and left out one detail, not on purpose. There wasn't anything to be sorry for. Ava wouldn't be cowed. If we were becoming friends, well, I decided she was all right. "I guess I should get to work then."
Ava promptly stood. She walked from the room and came back several times, carrying different outfits, all the while repeating the details I needed to keep in mind for my second attempt at Smoke and Mirrors. I couldn't bring myself to say thank you. The words were so big. Everyone was careful with them. Granting favors was a serious business; saying thank you committed me to doing something whether I wanted to or not, no matter how the request hurt my honor or dignity. It was a catch-22, because refusing to fulfill a favor owed was one of the greatest hits to my honor possible. Still, that wasn't why I didn't say it. I owed her thanks. Whether I said it or not, a debt was owed for her help, especially since it came without ever a word said about doing anything in return. It was that, more than the acts themselves, that put me in the red.
"What's your plan for tonight?" asked Ava, looking dubious.
"I have some ideas. I've got it covered," I said, liking the confidence in my voice. I could do this.
CHAPTER SIX
I went back to my place and rooted through my work box. Phoebe didn't put in an appearance, for which I was grateful. If she started messing with me, I'd get distracted and botch the job again. I needed that book. I had to know what that ball of light was and how to control it. I needed to know I could trust myself again.
My work box was a two foot cube and contained all the magical items I used on my jobs. It was carved with runes that kept it from opening for anyone other than me. It was a present from Belinda when I'd moved to doing fieldwork. I rooted through it until I found my disguise charm. They were handy little things that cast a glamour over my physical appearance. I didn't have the money for a full body change charm, but this one was reusable, and allowed me to change a couple of my features so I wasn't easily recognized. I didn't trust it, or myself, enough to try the same approach as last night, so I would have to play it by ear when I got to the club. I may have exaggerated my level of preparedness to Ava. I'm sure she would chastise my fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants attitude, but it had always worked for me in the past. The few times I'd tried a detailed plan everything had blown up in my face.
I tossed the charm on the bed along with the clothes Ava let me borrow. Dresses weren't my favorite—I was uncomfortable fighting in them—but when I told Ava that, all she'd asked was why I was preparing for a fight. She didn't understand I was always prepared for one.
I wasn't going hungry again tonight. The pan sizzled and popped while the burger cooked. Sauteed mushrooms always smelled like cozy fall days. I thought I'd eaten the last of my smoked Gouda, but found just enough hiding in the fridge. I couldn't afford to go shopping until I got paid again, and this was the last of the best stuff in my fridge. It would have been nice if that necklace job hadn't been a bust the other day. I could have used that money. Something tickled in the back of my mind, a definite sign I'd forgotten something. I finished my burger with a sigh. It was good, but it was the same meal I'd had a dozen times before. If I had gotten the bonus from that job, I would have been able to go some place nice and try something new.
I walked back into the bedroom and stripped, preparing to put on my club clothes.
"Oh, damn it," I muttered finally recalling what I had forgotten. "I need to file that object lost report before Hammond tears me a new one. Stupid dragons." Lou disappearing into Faerie with the necklace had been quite a surprise. It had been so strange finding his cave empty like that—no necklace, no Lou, not even his hoard. My contracts didn't cover retrieving items from Faerie. "He'll be back, and I'll get another shot at it."
Phoebe faded into existence on my bed, eliciting a gasp from me. She didn't even laugh, so the startle must have been incidental. "I know that necklace is pretty around your neck and all, but I thought you were going to turn it into the bureau yesterday."
I scowled at her. "Since when do you stick your nose into my jobs?"
"Since you started bringing them home with you," she sniped back at me. "Whatever. It's none of my business if you want to have someone luring you into Faerie." She poofed out as quickly as she'd appeared.
Phoebe was making even less sense than usual. Why was she bringing up a necklace I didn't recall telling her about? Maybe I'd been talking to myself. As much as I hated the idea, I probably needed more of a social life.
My hand drifted to my neck. I wished I'd had a chance to try the necklace on. Maybe I'd take a trip into Faerie to see if I could retrieve it anyway. While my contracts didn't require traveling to Faerie, they didn't forbid it either. I'd have to consider it after I got this book on The Morrigan.
I pulled on the dress and buckled the thin belt around my waist. I surveyed myself in the mirror. Okay, I could admit it, I looked hot. Ava knew what she was doing. She'd taken care of my hair before I left her place, braiding some on the side and tucking it around my face with bobby pins into a fancy style I'd never be able to replicate. I tied the disguise charm safely around my wrist like a bracelet. The girl in the mirror was still me, but different enough that with some luck, and a few adjustments from the charm, Owen wouldn't recognize me. Maybe I could follow Ava's advice, shake my ass, and pretend not to understand what Owen was saying. It was worth a shot.
"Have fun!" Phoebe called after me as I ran out to meet the cab.
I arrived at the club just after nine o'clock. There wasn't a line to deal with that early in the night. The bouncer waved me through without a second glance.
Smoke and Mirrors was more subdued this time around. There were already quite a few people on the dance floor, but it wasn't as loud or overloaded with magic. A quick scan of the sparsely populated main room, and I had eyes on Owen. He was wearing the same leather jacket with a white button-down shirt and black slacks. He lounged in a corner booth with his arms spread out to each side. A laugh brightened his face and softened the playboy image for a few seconds, then a beautiful blonde leaned in and boldly ran her tongue up the length of his throat.
"Fuck!" He was already with somebody. I hadn't antici
pated that happening so early. Now what was I going to do?
A couple of elves looked disapprovingly over at me from the bar. Maybe it was the "fuck"? I stuck my tongue out at them until they looked away.
Okay, Sophie. You can handle this. Make a plan.
Dancing in public wasn't something I'd done much of, but I wasn't awful at it. The small crowd on the dance floor meant the magic hadn't started flying yet, so it was safe enough. A group of ogres, tall with skirts that billowed around them, danced in a circle to the side. They seemed like fun women, teasing each other and dancing like they did this regularly. Their movement gave me an inconsistent view of Owen, but it kept me from being too conspicuous.
The woman sitting next to Owen scrolled through her phone. Her skin had a purple sheen. From across the club, I would have guessed that was due to the colors of the flickering lights. She pulled her hand through her hair, and where she touched, the blond turned red.
Owen spoke with her intermittently, but became more quiet and his eyes less focused with every drink he downed. All the while, he watched his customers dance.
The woman stood from the table and brushed the wrinkles from her dress. Her outfit was similar to mine, except for the short, white leather jacket. She adjusted her cleavage and held a finger up to Owen, indicating she'd be gone for a minute, and walked away from the table.
I edged around the ogres to follow when two faun men jumped in front of me and almost trampled my toes with their hooves. "Let's dance!" one of them shouted. Not in the mood, I dodged left, and when they sidestepped to block me, I danced right. The move was smooth, and I was proud and smiling when I reached the bathroom door just as the woman went inside.
The bathroom was bigger than I'd expected. The sinks turned on automatically, and when I bent down to get a look at them, I saw a sensor on the faucet. A human invention, not magic. How clever. It was probably cheaper for Owen to use human suppliers where possible, and if I was any indication, it must have interested his fae customers. I wondered what had given him the idea; most fae wouldn't have considered it.