Page 8 of Dead Wrong

Lorelei turned her back, making for the grandiose wooden door at the entrance.

“Wonderful. Good talk.”

“One hour to midnight!”

Cheers rang out through the claustrophobic hole-in-the-wall bar as the countdown clock hanging over the dance floor chimed the first of eleven ear-splitting gongs. Decorations made from flashy holographic plastic adorned nearly every nook and cranny, streaming down into the flushed faces of intoxicated patrons, who swatted them away with grins of stupefied bliss. Bodies packed the space, sweaty and pressed together like rats swarming over a piece of rancid meat.

The was no elegance here. No refinement to show the value of one’s status, only bedlam surrounding me from all sides. I should have expected this when my “date” for the evening suggested we come to this hovel on the Mortal Row, but it had been so long since I’d set foot outside of Magi society I’d forgotten how those without magic behaved. This bar was absolutely barbarous, and I could only hope that I wouldn’t have to stay a moment longer than necessary.

“Are you certain you don’t want to join me, Tobias?”

I wiped the expression of disgust from my face, swiveling on my barstool to face the reason for my presence in this hellscape. The young man’s brow glistened with perspiration, the strange silver conical hat jutting out from atop his sandy blonde locks pointed directly at me like a unicorn’s horn. He hopped up onto the stool next to me—which I’d been holding vacant during his absence through a blend of surly stares and a touch of magic—and lifted his empty glass to catch the bartender’s attention.

“I’m perfectly content watching you perspire from a distance,” I replied, reaching out and taking him by the shoulder to steer his attention. “Edward, wouldn’t it be better if we went someplace a little quieter so we could talk?”

Edward’s well-sculpted brows drew together. “And miss the fun? Absolutely not! We’ve only got an hour left before the New Year! After midnight, the party really gets roaring.”

I had to exercise a great deal of restraint not to strangle him in the middle of the crowded bar. Mother had told me that the Rothwind sire would be a vain little twerp, but my briefing was nowhere near as detailed as it needed to be. How was I supposed to convince this nitwit that his family needed to align itself with Mother’s latest campaign if he wouldn’t sit still for five blasted seconds?

An itch twinged in the palm of my hand as if to answer the question. The truth was I knew exactly how to bend this waif of a boy to my will. I could mold his very thoughts like wet clay coaxed between my fingers and sculpt them into any shape I desired. Even now, I could feel the pitiful defenses surrounding Edward’s subconscious. It would be almost nothing to crush them.

But that would mean I’d have to forfeit my bet. And I would be damned before conceding to Lynette, even if it meant spending all night in this mortal bar.

I just needed to pour on the charm.

My hand slid down from Edward’s thin shoulder to his elbow, gripping it gently. I pulled him close enough to whisper in his ear, “Are you sure, Edward? I’ve been waiting such a long time for the two of us to share some quality time together.”

I poured as much honey into my words as they would carry, setting the bait to draw in my prey. Now, I’d have to just sit back and wait for him to take it.

Edward looked over at me, the stupid grin fading from his lips. “What about the party?”

“Damn the party,” I said, trying to keep the playfulness of my tone from spilling over to frustration. “Let the mortals celebrate another cycle around the sun. We have more important things to discuss.”

Edward shrugged my hand off, grabbing the drink the bartender placed in front of him and taking a gulp.

Well, shit. That wasn’t the reaction I had hoped for.

“I’m kidding,” I added quickly, doing my best to salvage the mess before it completely imploded. “Of course we can stay for the silly little countdown. Where do I get one of those gauche hats?”

Edward looked at me then, a glimmer of sadness in his eyes. Or was it… pity? I bristled at the idea. Where the hell did this boy get off, looking at me like that?

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” I seethed, frustration reaching a boiling point.

“Why I want to be here. Why it thrills me to be caught up in the excitement. To be at the center of so many emotions that you can feel them electrifying the air around you. You can feel it, Tobias, can’t you?”

Would he ever shut up? The air in the bar felt no different than any other place packed to the gills with mortals—tinged with desperation and misery. Nothing I would want to expose myself to longer than necessary.

“It’s too bad,” Edward concluded, then downed the rest of his drink as he slid off the barstool. He leaned in close enough that I could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You’re so damn pretty, Tobias. It’s a shame you can’t see past your own misery.”

Edward turned to walk away, but I caught him by the elbow before he could slink out of reach.

“You stupid little shit,” I muttered just between the two of us. With a deep breath, I reached for the magic brimming under my skin, projecting it outward and over the blond. Edward’s magical defenses—the pitifully thin layer of magic that he wrapped himself with—crumpled under the swift assault, and his body went rigid. “Looks like I just lost a bet.”

Edward’s features twisted in confusion for a moment before the shroud of my magic fully engulfed him, his expression then dissolving into blank compliance.

I leaned forward, speaking directly into the man’s ear. “Tomorrow morning, you are going to convince Madame Rothwind to abandon her plans to extend protections to the Unseen. If she does not agree, then you are to use any force necessary to persuade her. Is that understood?”

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