As I was waved through the metal detector in our line, a stringent alarm pierced the air. I froze, locking wide eyes with Lee before spotting the source of the commotion. Two lanes down, someone had tried to smuggle in a pistol. I couldn’t make out all the details as I hastened to pass the checkpoint without incident. It seemed the offender was some politician who thought he was above the rules—a reputation that clearly didn’t hold in this place, as his pistol was confiscated and he was pulled into an office at the back of the hall against his will.
And then, with a few short steps, we were in the ballroom.
My first instinct was to scan for Tammy. No luck—there had to be over a hundred people in attendance. I couldn’t spot Cliff and Delilah, either. My nerves revolted at having Sylvia out of mysight, but at least she was with Cliff. Even though she would soon offer herself up like a lamb to slaughter, I could count on him to look after her.
Lee subtly elbowed my side, encouraging me to accept a glass of champagne from a passing server. I guessed it would look suspiciousnotto indulge at a place like this.
We descended a carpeted staircase toward the main floor, where I could see guests collecting around tables of delicate food and various entertainment. The ceilings were vast as a cathedral, dripping with sparkling chandeliers even larger than the ones that adorned the lobby. Red velvet curtains hung along the walls, giving the entire space a feeling that was both modern and ancient all at once.
I sipped from the crystal flute. Expensive champagne sparked against my tongue, but it may as well have been acid. My mind was still snapping back to the revelation about the spectral plane every two seconds. I couldn’t help it. Maybe I should’ve felt stupid for grieving, but all I felt was numbness.
Apart from the nosebleeds and occasional headaches after a plane visit, I’dneverhave guessed it was gnawing at my brain. The image made my stomach churn every time. Sure, I could still practically load a gun in my sleep, but would I wake up one morning and not remember? Was my brain quietly turning into Swiss cheese?
Was it worth it?
The question ate at me. I might bedying, but I’d faced death countless times now at the hands of living nightmares. This had been different. This had been forus. I’d seen Sylvia’s magic, held her in that otherworldly realm. Falling in love after losing everything was a gift. Nothing could negate that. Nothing could put into words the feeling of being loved and desired after they’ve seen you at your worst. It was something that, before meeting her, I’d lost hope that I’d ever experience in my lifetime.
Not to mention, no other human alive could say they’d experienced what I have, seen what I’ve seen in that astral realm, suspended between heaven and earth.
Because they’re all dead, cabrón.
As Lee and I wandered the main floor, I let my nerves channel into myurge: casually swiping jewelry from attendees. An accidental brush here, a handshake there, and a flirtatious touch on the arm. Rings, brooches, a bracelet studded with sparkling stones. If nothing else, it eased some of my racing thoughts and might garner a fae gemstone Sylvia could harness. I was careful to space out my targets, lest I draw attention to my wake of victims.
Butsomeonenoticed, nonetheless.
“You’re smooth. Didn’t expect that from a hunter.” Lee’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. He sipped at his drink, a flick of his eyes toward my pocket the only indication he’d caught me. “Though to be fair, Ben’s stories are pretty much the stuff of horror movies without variation. I know a good fence if you need one.”
I debated whether I was flattered or not, this coming from a career burglar. “It’s not about the money.”
“Well, we may need to switch you to a stronger drink than champagne. You look… How do I put this nicely?”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not going to?”
“Like you sat on a cactus,” Lee finished, clasping my shoulder. “You want to blend in, it’s not just about the clothes.”
“I know.” I scowled, only to school my expression when I realized that was only worsening the issue.Fuck, this might’ve been harder than I thought.
Lee’s bright eyes flicked over me. “Foster care?”
I lifted an eyebrow, briefly startled by how deeply his gaze read.
“Not quite like that. My folks both worked full-time jobs, but it was always a grind,” I said. “Scrappy Christmases and coupon clipping. I can’t remember a time growing up when we weren’t anxious about money. And seeing this… It’s grotesque.”
“Some of us aren’t born with daddy’s checkbook in their pocket,” Lee agreed, something darker laced in his voice despite the pleasant expression. I glanced at him more closely, noting how it didn’t quite meet his eyes. People didn’t become career criminals because privilege was at their beck and call.
They also didn’t knowingly fuck witches out of the goodness of their hearts either, so I’d continue to keep him at arm’s length.
“I’ve worked this scene enough to know their type. Power always corrupts. In this room, it’s just bad and worse,” Lee said. “Most of these people replace human emotion with things. What they barely miss could turn someone else’s life around. Can’t say who’s worse—the ones too out of touch to notice, or the ones who fight tooth and nail to keep it that way.”
“Guess I shouldn’t feel guilty that most of them won’t be getting what they want tonight,” I said. A few pieces of swiped jewelry wouldn’t cause so much as a dent in their lives, but ripping away the very foundation of this event would land a devastating blow.
Muffled thuds from across the ballroom made me turn my head. The origin of the noise immediately registered—gunshots.But that couldn’t be right, with weapons prohibited. I pulled away from Lee as casually as I could, not bothering to search for the glints of watches and bracelets along the way.
One corner of the ballroom was halfway concealed by a partition, where the thuds continued to punch through the circles of conversation. I couldn’t hide my scowl when I finally got a good look at the shooting range that had been set up as an attraction.
A man, wavering drunkenly, held a pistol in one hand, a silencer screwed onto the end of the barrel. He shot three times in quick succession and hit none of the moving targets, which weren’t the paper or cardboard of standard ranges. Chuckles and chiding teases came from the gaggle of onlookers, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from what he’d been shooting at.
Small monsters scuffled around the range—frightened, agitated, and some even injured. There had to be some event-sanctioned magical barrier keeping the creatures contained. They would have torn their tormentors to pieces by now otherwise.
