“You haven't seen what we can do when we get angry,” the Kobold sighs with a wink.
“When would it be?”
“In two days,” Sylara rushes to respond. “We've intercepted his usual request and included you as a replacement.”
I raise my eyebrows, impressed.
“Are you a hacker too?”
“You have to know a bit of everything in this life,” the elf explains with an enigmatic smile.
For the next hour, we go over the details of the plan. They show me how to use the camera, I get instructions on what to look for and how to behave, and Sabina even shows me some basic massage movements.
“We'll pick you up the day after tomorrow at eleven,” Sylara says. “Try to rest until then. And don't get into trouble.”
I nod and head toward the door, convinced this is the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life. Sabina stops me, grabbing me by the elbow just as I'm about to leave. Her touch is cool, like diving into a stream in summer.
“Nell,” she says in a low voice. “I know you don't trust us yet, and I don't blame you. But I want you to know we're with you. We won't let anything happen to you.”
As I walk back to my place, I feel the breeze caressing my skin, like it recognizes me, like it wants to greet me. But I also remember reality. In just two days, I'll face one of the most dangerous men in the country.
And if something goes wrong, nothing can save me.
Chapter 6
Althea
You can see her Fae heritage. She's rather petite, but strong and flexible like a reed. Even so, all my instincts scream that it's madness to send her alone to that place.
“Okay, let's go over it again,” I propose, sliding the obsidian between my fingers. “When you enter the mansion, they'll ask what you want. You tell them you're the new masseuse and memorize the layout by taking photos, if you can. No heroics.”
“For the fifth time, Althea,” she responds, rolling her eyes. “I go in, pretend I know how to give massages, explore, get out as fast as possible. It's not my first dangerous job, you know?”
“Yeah, okay, but this isn't like stealing some jewelry from any rich guy,” I insist, raising my voice more than I intended. “Voronov is... different. You already know, the rumors about him, about what he does to those who betray him.”
“I know it well. He's been buying stolen pieces from us for years,” she rushes to respond, arching the eyebrow over her blue eye, while the one over the gray remains impassive.
“I'm just telling you there are people who disappear and...”
“Yeah, you're really encouraging me,” she replies, shaking her head. “Anything else you want to tell me? Let's see if besides being a mobster, he also turns out to be a werewolf or a vampire.”
“Werewolves don't exist,” I respond automatically.
“Vampires do,” Sylara whispers next to us.
“Seriously?”
“Let's focus. Vampires don't matter to you right now, they're rare, and most are in New Orleans. You need to wear this at all times,” I say, placing a listening device in her ear and covering it with a strand of hair.
“I look like a spy from the movies,” she jokes.
“If they catch you, try to buy time however you can. It won't be easy to get past the entrance security. Last chance; if you don't want to do it, we'll find another way,” I remind her.
Nell smiles and shakes her head, narrowing her eyes. She tells us something about how, even though she's scared, she can do the job, and something else I don't even process, because all my senses are focused on the way the elf kneelsbefore her, takes her hands, and a current of air forms around them.
“What the hell did you do?” I growl.
“You already know,” Sylara murmurs, losing her race's typical composure for a tenth of a second.
