She paused inside the door and smoothed her hands over the new body she wore. The cheap purple velvet bustier and black pleather pants were an affront to the beauty of her usual haute couture, but Tatiana willingly made the sacrifice. If the night went well, she would find the comarré whore, capture her, and torture her until the twit gave up the ring. Then, so long as her ex-husband, Mal, kept his distance, Tatiana would never have to return to New Florida again.
Seven’s back corridors were also as Mia had mapped out. Tatiana tried to walk with the nonchalant confidence of someone familiar with her surroundings. She shivered at the thought of having to hold down such a menial job, of relying on such work to live. In her human life, she’d made her way as a thief, a fortune-teller, and sometimes a whore. That, in combination with being Roma, had led her to the gallows. Then to Malkolm and the role of wife and mother, and ultimately to the transformation into the powerful creature she was now and the life she felt she’d always been meant for.
A male and female pair of fae walked toward her. With their dark eyes, dark hair, and scantily clad bodies covered in henna patterns, they looked like twins. Mia hadn’t mentioned anyone fitting their description, so she gave them a brief nod as they approached.
The pair slowed and the female nodded back, eyes bright. ‘Hello, Mia. How are you this evening?’
Bloody hell. ‘Just great, thanks. Gotta run. Don’t want to be late.’
The male laughed as the pair came to a halt, effectively blocking her path. ‘No, we don’t want that, do we?’
‘No.’ She was starting to wonder if she should kill them and move on, but hiding the bodies would take time and could arouse suspicion.
The female leaned in, nostrils flaring. Her long-lashed lids fluttered as she inhaled. ‘You smell delicious this evening. Is that a new perfume?’
‘Yes,’ Tatiana answered. ‘I just got it. Now if you’ll excuse me, can’t keep the boss waiting.’
The female wrapped her arm around the male’s waist. ‘So you’ve heard?’
‘Heard?’ She scanned her brain for a forgotten bit of info. What was she supposed to know?
The female lifted her face from where she nuzzled the male’s neck. ‘Dominic’s back and he’s questioning all the employees.’
Dominic. Dominic. What did she know about him? He was the dead comarré’s lover. Anathema. House of St. Germain, same as Nasir. He might know where the daughter of his former screw lived. Time to find out a little more. ‘What’s he questioning them – us – about?’
The fae pair shrugged simultaneously, but only the male spoke. ‘We can’t say, as our turn hasn’t come yet, but it might have something to do with that fight the other night.’ They laughed conspiratorially. Clearly there was something she wasn’t getting.
‘Okay, well, gotta run. See you later.’ She squeezed past, brushing against the male. He inhaled sharply, as if she’d hurt him. She rolled her eyes. Stupid, sensitive fae. She didn’t have time to go back and apologize, regardless of what Mia would have done.
She was around the corner when he called out for her to wait. Ignoring him, she found the employee access for Vanity and slipped inside.
She took her place behind the bar, a monstrosity of crystal bits and glass tiles that was actually shaped like a peacock. She gave a little half smile to the bartender she must be relieving. He was fringe, tall and not unattractive. Mia had insisted she had no amorous relations with any of the other employees, but based on how this one looked at her, Tatiana had to wonder. She wiggled her fingers at him. It seemed the kind of puerile gesture Mia might make. ‘Hi, there.’
‘You’re late.’ He winked. ‘But in that outfit, I forgive you.’ He tossed a small white towel onto the shelf beneath the bar and came toward her. ‘Everyone’s taken care of at the moment.’ He pointed toward the sink in front of her. ‘There are a few glasses I haven’t washed yet.’
‘I’ll do those. Don’t worry about it.’ She picked one up and looked for a rag.
His eyes widened. ‘Aren’t you going to spray gloves on?’
‘No, I’m fine.’ Why should she bother with gloves? This wasn’t her skin anyway.
He tipped his head and lifted a shoulder. ‘Alrighty, then. Well, I doubt you’ll be too busy. It’s been slow. I think people are a little freaked out about all the missing fringe.’
More nonsense she didn’t understand or care to. She just wanted him gone so she could tend to her own business. She scooped up a rag and waved it at him. ‘Well, you have a good night. Better get home before the sun comes up.’
He gave her a mock salute, gathered his things, and left through the door she’d come in. As soon as he was gone, she tossed the rag down and surveyed the rest of the lounge. What she saw stunned her. Some kind of cheap imitation comarré. They didn’t glow. She inhaled. Didn’t have that same sweet blood scent. No, these were clearly kine masquerading as comarré. Was this some sort of parlor trick?
All around the room, idiot fringe indulged themselves with the counterfeits. Didn’t they know any better? Or was this their way of mimicking their noble betters? Anger at such posturing churned in her gut. What fools.
The sound of glass shattering tore her attention away from the scene. She glanced down. Her hand was clenched and the tumbler she’d been holding in her right
