And I was panting, a little out of breath as I slipped the iron cuff on my wrist.
Done, I turned to the mirror and grinned at my reflection. “I look like Aeon Flux,” I said, cocking my head to the side. “A much sluttier version of Aeon Flux. Perfect.”
The Court on Canal looked like a, well, like a dump from the outside. The kind of place you’d expect to get a little food poisoning with your crawfish if you were brave enough to actually eat whatever they served, but the inside was all upscale.
Bar and booths made from wood refurbished from Katrina. Thick, leather-cushioned stools. Shiny, always clean high top round tables, and I’d never so much as seen a stray napkin in any of the private booths that sat back from the tables, lining the walls.
I carried only a black clutch as I strolled to the bar, wholly aware of the glances that lingered and followed while pretending that I wasn’t.
It was weird to me. The knowledge that dressed likethis, looking likethis,I wasn’t invisible. I was no longer a ghost, but I was….
What had the Prince said to me?
You are nothing but lies and façades.
Ugh.
He was right, and I really, seriously disliked him for that.
I wasn’t this incarnation of myself. I could feel the warmth of embarrassment creeping up my throat in a prickly flush as I heard a low whistle from a man who was at one of the tables.
But I also wasn’t the Brighton before the attack. She was gone, dying the night I should’ve died. Because while I was embarrassed by the attention, there was still a half grin that appeared on my lips.
Maybe the Prince was wrong.
Maybe I wasn’t completely a façade.
I had no idea.
Climbing onto the stool as ladylike as humanly possible, I crossed one leg over the other and placed my clutch on the bar top.
A human bartender was behind the bar, but so was a fae. I wasn’t quite sure if the female actually worked here, but she was the one I always saw when I came here, ferrying Nightshade back and forth to the non-human clientele.
Right now, she was carrying an entire tray of glasses to one of the booths along the wall. My gaze skipped away. There were a handful of fae among the humans chatting and drinking. None of them recognizable.
And definitely none of the younglings.
So far.
“What can I get you?”
I turned back to the bartender and smiled. He was young and his gaze was clear. Focused. Obviously not under any trance or control, but he had to know that not everyone who was served here was human. There was no way he couldn’t, what with the Nightshade being served and what went on up on the second floor.
“A rum and Coke,” I said.
“Coming right up.” He picked up a glass and got to making the quick, easy drink. “Tab or pay now?”
“Cash.” I opened my clutch and slid the money over to him. “Thank you.”
The man smiled and then he was off, serving someone at the other end of the bar. Sipping my drink, I twisted around on the stool so I was facing the main bar floor, but was able to keep an eye on the back hallway, where the elevator serviced the second level. I pulled out my phone and pretended to be engrossed in it as I scanned the floor.
Within a few moments, two more fae entered the bar, their glamouring fading away to reveal their silvery, luminous skin. They made a beeline for the back hallway.
The second floor was a… different kind of service area, one that didn’t just cater to fae looking for their dinner, but also sex.
Lots of sex.
Only once had I gone up to the second floor, and that had been pure luck, sneaking in behind a group of humans who were being led by two fae. Once was enough.
