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Uziah made me leave early. Some asshole grabbed my ass, so I choked him out with climbing ivy.
I snort. Niamh is the only other fae I know who has an affinity for plants like me. Except, she doesn’t poison people with hers; she just suffocates them outright. Mostly men who get too handsy. Which happens a lot considering she works at a nightclub full of drunk vampires. Not to mention she’s drop-dead gorgeous.
Raincheck on the drinks. I need to hear about this. Tomorrow?
She texts back almost immediately: It’s a date.
The bar is crowded when I arrive, but that’s a good thing. Makes my job easier. Believe it or not, the more people present, the less they suspect danger, which makes doing shady shit under their noses even easier. After all, no one assumes you’re going to poison a guy in front of dozens of witnesses.
So that’s exactly what I’ll do.
I scan the rowdy crowd until my eyes land on the slick-looking guy at the end of the bar. Bingo. His rounded face matches the picture Em texted me two days ago. Dull brown hair receding drastically from his large forehead, a pointed nose, and a suit that screams “Look at me; I’m important.”
I avert my eyes before I can draw his attention and begin winding my way slowly through the crowded tables. It’s happy hour, and apparently, the drinks are strong because the seats are full and floor space is tight as people crowd the aisles.
I slide up to the bar’s end opposite from where my mark sits and catch the bartender’s eye. She saunters closer, a friendly smile on her narrow fae face.
“What’ll it be, gorgeous?” she asks.
“Whiskey and Coke.”
She goes to work making the drink, and I glance over at the mark again in time to see him ogling a woman in a short skirt. She’s tall and willowy with a dancer’s grace. My senses peg her as an elf or nymph. As she walks by him, he reaches out and palms her ass. She rounds on him, glaring, and he grins like her protest only makes it all the more fun.
Wow, he’s going to make this easy.
“Here you are.” The bartender sets the drink before me.
“Thanks.” I toss a sachet of herbs onto the bar in exchange.
“What’s this?” she asks.
“Wolfsbane.”
Her eyes glint with interest. Wolfsbane is a commodity used mostly for trading for other valuables. What I’m giving her is more than one drink deserves, but hopefully, it’ll ensure she never admits to seeing me here if anyone questions her later. She takes the sachet and gives a nod of thanks before walking off to help the next customer.
I take the drink, faltering as a wave of… something washes over me. Dizziness followed by a rush of power that leaves me reeling for a moment. Gripping the bar, I suck in a deep breath and try like hell to remain on my feet as the room tilts.
Then, just as suddenly as it came on, the heady rush recedes. My vision and balance steady again. I’m left with a strange sort of itch on the inside of my skin—a pull toward…something. Or someone.
What the hell?
I blink quickly, scanning the room for some explanation. But no one else seems to have been affected. The bar patrons continue to drink and socialize without missing a beat. At the far end, my mark continues to leer at and grab women he has no permission to touch.
I force myself to refocus.
I have no idea what just happened, but whatever’s going on with me tonight, I tell myself it’s nothing that can’t be fixed by a bottle of wine and a good night’s sleep. Stress, that’s all this is.
Time to get to work and get the hell out of here.
Moving through the crowd, I use the closeness of bodies as cover to empty a sachet from my pocket into my whiskey. A few swirls of the ice cubes dissolve the powder until the liquid is once again amber-clear. A few more paces and I’m within arms’ reach of the mark.
Keeping my back to his, I wait for my moment. Predictably it comes when the short skirt from earlier does another pass. The mark reaches out and brushes her thigh with his hand.
The female rounds on him immediately, cheeks flushing in anger.
I use her disgusted rebuff as a distraction to swap my poisoned drink with his. As soon as I’ve made the switch, I turn and begin moving toward the exit. Watching him succumb to the drink is easy enough from the window, and it puts distance between me and the crime.
Once I know he’s taken care of, I can get home and uncork that bottle of wine I promised myself. Maybe I’ll even text Niamh to come on over tonight. We can touch up my hair the old-fashioned way.
