“I can,” Veronica said, her voice tiny and electronic through the earpiece. It was human tech, but it did the job well.
“Good.”
“Has anyone spoken to you yet?” Veronica asked.
I rubbed my face to cover my mouth. “Not yet.”
Ahead of me, a group of five male witches in heavy winter coats stepped up and announced which coven they were from. The doorman glanced down at a thick book, flipping the pages until he found what he was looking for.
“You’re good. Head on in,” he said.
The young men moved forward, vanishing into the temple. My turn. I hoped our plan worked.
“Coven affiliation?” The guy was skinny, but there was something about the way he held himself that told me he knewhow to handle any situation—the same simmering capability you saw in Special Ops agents.
“Beach Grove,” I said, using all the authority and confidence I had. It was hard given the fact that my voice sounded different than usual due to the glamour spell.
He frowned and flipped through the leatherbound book. He’d gone through nearly fifteen pages before stopping. He leaned in and frowned before looking at me again.
“That’s…that’s aFloridacoven, sir,” he said. “You realize this is Chicago?”
I chuckled, my new double chin bobbing as I did. Ariella had been a bit of a dick, and her spell gave me the appearance of a balding, short, and stocky man about sixty pounds overweight.
“I’m in town visiting some friends. A member of my coven told me this was going on nearby. I wassorelieved. I hate to miss these things if I can help it.”
“That sounded really good,” Veronica said in my ear.
The man shook his head and chuckled. “Okay then. None of that crazyFlorida Manbullshit, and we’ll be fine.”
I burst out laughing, a heavy belly laugh that sounded nothing like me. “Understood. You don’t have any gator shifters in there, do you?”
He threw his head back and laughed at my joke. That sealed it. I was in.
“Not that I’ve seen. You have a good night, sir.”
He waved me in and addressed the person behind me. As we’d assumed, there was additional security. At a table just insidethe door, three witches—a woman and two men—were searching bags. The woman took the bags and waved her hand across them before handing them to the second man, who physically looked inside. The third witch stood off to the side patting people down. This was going to be the most dangerous part of getting in.
“Over here, sir,” the pat-down guard said, waving me toward him.
“Of course,” I said, stepping forward. “I heard you all have had a few issues up here lately?”
He nodded and crouched, patting around my ankles. I needed to time this right. My heart thrummed as I pushed the small capsule from under my tongue to the side of my cheek.
“Been having a good night?” I asked. “See the Cubs play this afternoon?”
The guard gave a low, disgusted chuckle. “If you can call what they did on the fieldplaying. We aren’t gonna sniff the playoffs this year.”
He moved up, running his fingers along my belt, inches away from where my gun sat. It was now or never. I had to pray I got this right, and that Veronica’s potion making was better than her spell casting.
“Name’s Art Bryant,” I said, sticking my hand out to him, subtly turning my back toward the other guards and guests.
The guy frowned at my hand, but being a normal person, decided it was better to shake than offend. As he did, I moved the capsule between my teeth and bit down. An acrid flavor filled my mouth, and I held my breath. Veronica assured me inhalation was the only way this potion worked.
“Uh…nice to meet you too. I guess. Now if I can?—”
His words were cut off as I blew a breath out over his face. A colorless cloud of vapor flooded out of my mouth and across his face. He flinched back but not before taking a breath, sucking the potion into his lungs. He didn’t even cough. Instead, he simply stared back at me blankly. I should have about five seconds to imprint a memory.
“You already finished frisking me,” I whispered, still pumping his hand like we were old friends. “You found nothing. We’re joking about sports.”
