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As a tree fairy, I knew my face and toned body enticed, while the sexual energy was always riding my skin like an electrical charge that drew people in. And at one time, I would have openly flirted with her, taken her to my bed. Smiled. Laughed. Had fun.
That person seemed long ago, in a different lifetime.
Maybe somewhere deep inside I cared that I was being an asshole, or maybe I no longer gave a shit. The nice, easygoing guy who stood most of his life between Warwick and Kitty as the anchor was no longer. I was adrift, drowning in a sea of pain.
Everything changed the night almost a year ago. And I no longer cared that I didn’t recognize the person looking back in the mirror.
The waitress placed the pint on the table and disappeared as quickly as she came, not even looking at me. A hint of shame tightened my muscles, but I pushed it away with everything else.
Sipping the cool beverage, I exhaled, the alcohol barely taking the edge off the craving for fairy dust, which still streamed through my blood from the night before.
I barely remembered anything from the orgy except waking up outside on the ground, my clothes in my arms. I was covered in cheap lipstick, cum that wasn’t mine, and had a vague recollection of being thrown out by two huge gorilla shifters.
The door opened, pulling my attention to it. A group of four girls and three guys came parading in, a mix of fae and human. Their loud, excited voices and jubilant energy rammed into me with force, my spine bristling as they headed for the bar. The renowned university here had the streets crawling with college kids celebrating finals being done and winter break ahead of them. This displayed another huge difference from the Eastern bloc. There, universities hardly existed anymore, and if they did, they were only for the extremely wealthy. Most sent their children over the borders to the West, while poor kids in the East were stuck working next to their parents in the factories. The carefree college life was not something kids from the East experienced anymore.
My attention on the group, I noticed two of them seemed slightly older than the rest, which had me almost missing the hooded figure settling into the chair opposite me. His quiet movements, nondescript features, and gray cloak turned him into a magic trick, appearing before your eyes.
Not reacting, I regarded the man with boredom, taking a sip of beer and waiting for him to speak first, though his gaze told me nothing got past him.
“Long way from Budapest.” Voice low, he leaned his forearms on the table.
“I could say the same for you.” I set the glass down.
“My services reach far beyond Hungary, especially now with your newdemocraticpresident making everything more accessible.” The man’s lip pulled up.
“Not a fan?” A prickle of protectiveness simmered for Killian. What he and Brexley were trying to create in Hungary was astonishing under the circumstances.
“As you know, my business is a black market of highly sought items. I don’t like when they aren’t in high demand.”
“Then I’m surprised you aren’t farther east.” Killian was trying to get Hungary on its feet, but neighboring countries like Serbia, Romania, Ukraine, Russia, and Slovakia were fighting against the new wave of democracy, taking their people deeper into authoritarian leadership, straining the thin lines between our countries, hinting at war.Another one. It seemed dictators never tired of war, while the people were the ones to suffer it.
“I had business here. Supplies to pick up.” He shook his head when the waitress neared, his hood still covering his face. She turned, darting away without hesitation, causing the man’s lips to curve up. “I see you have been charming people here as well as you did in Prague.”
My shoulders twitched, and I draped my arm over the back of the bench. Not many knew Mykel, Brexley’s uncle, had asked me to leave Prague after dozens of complaints about fighting and disorderly conduct.
“You’ve left a wave of destruction from Hungary to Czech, haven’t you?”
“You don’t know anything about me.” I gritted my teeth. Only one person knew him and knew me and helped set up this meeting, but I didn’t think he would tell him anything about me.
“On the contrary.” He leaned forward, his brown eyes staring into me. “I know much about you, Ash. Your reputation is starting to precede you. Thrown out of almost every brothel or sex club you enter for breaking property, overindulgence, and having no threshold in your activities. You are becoming known as the man withveryparticular tastes in his depraved orgies.” He tilted his head. “Blond, ripped men and blue-haired women, even if they have to wear a wig.”
My body jolted back, my teeth crunching down until I heard my jaw crack. I wanted to strike out, to flip the table and pound his face. All reactions I never had before. I had to fight a lot growing up with Warwick in our line of work, but I never craved it the way he did. I never sought it out, always the one in harmony and balance.
Now it was all I wanted to do. All I craved.
He sat back with a slight smile. “With all that rage, I’m wondering whyyouaren’t farther east. Seeking what you so desperately want.” He clasped his hands. “LikeRomania.”
His words sliced at my chest, making it hard to breathe, nerves twinging up my neck, sitting me up.
“That’s where they are? You know for sure?”
The picture of Sonya and Iain flashed into my head, hatred burning acid up my throat. There had been rumors they had left Romania, sailing the Black Sea toward Istanbul, escaping my grasp.
“My sources areneverwrong. They don’t just hunt the seas, they rule them. They know everything going to and from.”
“Where?” I leaned in further to him. “Are Sonya and Iain hiding with Prime Minister Lazar in Bucharest?” After months of searching and trying to pinpoint the two people I wanted to kill, I had no actual proof they were hiding in Romania, seeking asylum under Prime Minister Lazar’s roof. And with hostile, deadly borders between our countries—and death if I was caught—I needed real, solid evidence.
“Payment first.” He smirked.
