Lissa and KeeKee threw themselves into their chairs at the table, each with fresh drinks, Lissa gulping hers down. “Where’s Corry?” I asked.
“Some cute dude bought us drinks. She’s chatting him up,” KeeKee said. She turned and pointed. But Corry was nowhere in sight.
I stood so fast, I knocked over my chair, ordering, “Don’t drink.” Darting toward the right side of the bar, around it, I headed to the entrance. From the corner of my eye I saw Lissa shove her drink away. Saw Labaka’s gaze follow me as he instantly stood straight.
According to my internal clock, less than two minutes had passed from the moment I took my eyes off Smarmy. Longenough to drug Corry. Long enough to be halfway to a vehicle with a stumbling, compliant woman.
Corry had red hair, near enough like mine, when I was unglamoured, to pass for me in a dark bar.
And there was still a bounty on my head from that one blood duel that had gone sideways. Only an idiot would try to collect—Son of a witch.
I slammed open doors, scanning each room. No sign of her in the ladies’ room. Nor in the lobby. I burst out the entry door, nearly ramming the bouncer. The cold hit me like a fist. “Berky. Have you seen Corry?”
Berky was six-four, a good three hundred, heavily tattooed over every inch of skin not scarred during the Witch War. “Walked off with Tony Montgomery, guy in the Scorpion MAGXL. Sweet ride.”
“Where!”
“Chill, Baby. I checked her out. She was fine, chatty, happy as—”
I whirled on Berky. Looked at him with all the power I possessed. “Where. Is. His. Car.”
Berky shut up and pointed.
The Scorpion’s backup lights came on.
I gave Berkythe look, the one I’d learned from Koun, the Dark Queen’s war strategist. “You’re with me,” I ordered.
“Fuck.”
Yeah. He’d let a guest get lured away.
Berky lumbering behind me, I dashed toward the Scorpion, a Mag-car. It had an Octi paint job, automatically blending into whatever the driver wanted. Right now, that meant the car had no color at all, opaque, dark as the night. Scorpions were silent and fast as sin.
Tony wanted stealth.
I yanked out adisruptoramulet and pulled my vamp-killer from my thigh as I ran. I initiated the amulet and tossed it at the Scorpion Mag. It attached itself to the back panel. Three seconds until it worked.
One second: The vehicle whipped for the driveway.
Two seconds: I grabbed the wheel well and spun myself onto the hood. Landed with a thump that dented the synth-metal. Caught my grip into the space between hood and windshield.
I had never hit an electromagnetic-powered engine with a disruptor. It might explode. It might fizzle. Anything in between.
Three seconds: Berky cursed. Grabbed the door handle as if he’d stop the car by sheer muscle power.
Thedisruptoractivated. My magic sizzled over the vehicle, interfering with every circuit, every electrical thingamajig, every sensor, every freaking object, gadget, and security feature that used tech. The Scorpiondied. Its wheels locked up. The car skidded to a stop.
I didn’t have fangs, but I showed my teeth at my reflection in the black windshield. Vicious. Snarling. Green as a leprechaun.
Berky slammed a fist with brass knucks into the driver’s window repeatedly. More as an annoyance than to any real effect. These cars were designed during the Witch War, with Witch War tech. The window glass could withstand most anything.
Knowing the car’s cameras were down and the security cams for the bar out of sight, I dropped my glamour for a count of two and then reestablished it. I could almost feel the reaction from the guy inside.
Yeah. You drugged the wrong chick. Now you got me to deal with.
I released my hold on the car, kneeling on the hood. Green reflected back at me from the black glass. Like a green gnome with attitude. I removed a small earring from my left earlobe. Held it over the windshield. Still grinning. Giving the guy inside a chance.
“Baby. Stop, girl.”
