Page 65 of King’s Kismet

“What the fuck?” my fae snarled. “Cover yourself.”

“Get fucked. It’s Halloween,” Ruby snipped. “I can look like this in public, and everyone will assume it’s an expensive costume. I’ve gotten several compliments tonight.”

“By the fucking devil,” he muttered, scrubbing his hand down his face. “The women in my life are trying to—”

“Loosen you up so you’re not so high-strung all the time?” Ruby guessed. “Yes. Yes, we are.”

Palmer chuckled, earning a hard glare from Vaughn, who was finding none of this amusing.

“Ruby,” I cautiously called. “Why does everyone look like me?”

“We’re having some fun at your expense,” she replied, pointing toward the VIP section.

I quirked a brow. “This isn’t my idea of fun.”

“You can make it stop,” she purred.

“You’re a shit starter, aren’t you?” Palmer inquired.

She nodded. “All day, every day.”

“How does she make it stop?” Vaughn asked his sister.

“Touch them.”

“You want me to touch strangers?” My eyes roamed over the massive crowd, trying to calculate the numbers. “All these people?”

Ruby nodded again, reaching out to tap the pad of her index finger against the nearest clone’s arm. The glamor disappeared, showing a bearded man dressed as a pirate. He didn’t even notice the change, meaning someone was manipulating their minds as well as holding the extravagant illusion in place.

“That’s it?” I queried, intensely studying her. “That’s all I have to do?”

“Yep.” Ruby popped the p as she grinned. “Have some fun, Lo.”

“Have some fun, Lo,” I mocked, glaring at Vaughn. “Is she serious?”

“Afraid so,” was his response, but it was buried in his rich laughter.

I was torn between choking him and kissing him. Though I chose to walk away, taking the path less traveled… And touch the fucking strangers.

With their minds being manipulated, I moved a little faster than humanly possible, not concerned with them seeing me. It still took me nearly twenty minutes to clean the glamor from the room.

The problem?

Each time someone new walked in, there was a trickling effect, resetting said glamor on everyone they touched.

It was fucking maddening.

And after three passes through the club, I called a time-out.

I needed a drink.

I wanted to wash my hands.

As I dropped into my booth, I leaned my head against Blaire’s shoulder. She patted my cheek but didn’t break stride in her conversation with Ripley.

“I fucking hate this,” I complained, cutting my eyes at the Winter sisters.

“This is the best birthday ever,” Stone teased, laughter in his voice as he placed a shot of tequila in front of me.