Page 51 of Poison Ivy
The mist-figure beckons to me before floating towards the window. I grab the dagger and follow, knowing that I will see this through tonight. The thrill of the hunt is more addictive than I expected, so even if none of this leads to Poison, I’m still in this for the adventure.
As I move through the darkened streets ofThornfield, following the misty guide, my mind wanders back to the creature’s warning about Poison. It doesn’t come as a surprise that they know I’m somehow involved with her, but are they spying on me? On her?
The thought of Poison sends another surge of anger through me. The feel of her writhing against me, the way she moaned as I fucked her against that tree... and then the burning pain of her ivy vines wrapping around me. Next time I see her, I’ll make her pay for that little trick. Not a lot can stop me, but nature? That’s a new one for me. There aren’t many creatures out there who can wield nature as she did, apart from the fae. It makes me desperate to know more about her.
The mist guide leads me to the outskirts of the sleepy university town, towards an area known for its high concentration of magical energy. As we approach a grand Victorian mansion, the mist dissipates, leaving me alone outside wrought-iron gates.
I can feel the powerful wards surrounding the property, layers upon layers of protection spells. Getting past them won’t be easy, but then again, I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.
Closing my eyes, I reach out with my fae senses, searching for any weaknesses in the magical barriers. A slight fluctuation in the energy field catches my attention, barely noticeable unless you’re looking for it. I focus my power on that spot, slowly unravelling the threads of magick.
It takes five minutes of painstakingly delicate work, but finally, I create a small opening in the wards. Slipping through, I make my way towards the house, sticking to the shadows.
As I near the back entrance, I hear voices coming from an open window above. Shifting to a raven’s form, I fly up to the window and perch on the ledge outside.
“...can’t ignore this, Ezra,” a woman’s voice says urgently. “The balance is shifting. Something dark is coming.”
“I’m well aware, Celeste,” a male voice - presumably Ezra Hornbeam - replies. “But we can’t act without more information. We don’t even know who’s behind all this.”
“And what about The Syndicate?” Celeste presses. “They’re getting bolder by the day. That assassination at Club Nox?—”
My ears perk up at the mention of Nox.
“Was regrettable, yes,” Ezra cuts her off. “But not unexpected. Marcus Crowberry had many enemies. We can’t be certain it was them.”
“Who else could it have been?” Celeste argues. “You know as well as I do that they’re the only ones with the resources and audacity to pull off something like that.”
The conversation inside abruptly stops.
“Did you hear that?” Celeste whispers.
Cursing silently, I lift off silently and move to the rooftop above the window.
“Probably just a bird,” Ezra says to Celeste. “Now, where were we?”
I need to find a way inside and complete my mission before they realise there’s an intruder.
Carefully, I fly off the roof and duck down and around the house until I find another open window. This one leads to what appears to be a study, mercifully empty. I fly inside and shift, my feet touching down silently on the plush carpet.
The room is filled with bookshelves containing ancient books and magical artefacts. Under different circumstances, I might be tempted to explore, but I have a job to do. I creep towards the door, pressing my ear against it to listen for any movement in the hallway beyond.
Hearing nothing, I ease the door open and step out into the corridor. The voices I heard earlier are coming from a room at the far end. I move towards them, the enchanted dagger clutched tightly in my hand.
As I near the partially open door, I catch another snippet of conversation.
“...need to warn the others,” Celeste is saying. “If what your sources say is true?—”
“We can’t risk causing a panic,” Ezra interrupts her again, which is a really annoying trait I will happily kill him for. “Not until we have concrete evidence. For now, we keep this between us.”
I peer through the crack in the door. Ezra Hornbeam is a tall, distinguished-looking man with silver-streaked dark hair. He’s pacing the room, a frown etched on his face. Celeste, a petite woman with fiery red hair, watches him with concern.
This is my chance. Ezra’s back is to the door, and Celeste is too focused on him to notice my approach. I take a deep breath, steadying myself for what I’m about to do.
In one fluid motion, I push the door open and lunge forward. Ezra turns at the sound, his eyes widening in shock as he sees me. But it’s too late. The enchanted dagger finds its mark, slicing across his chest.
Celeste screams as Ezra staggers back, clutching at the wound. Already, I can see the poison taking effect, dark veins spreading out from the cut.
I turn to face Celeste, who’s raising her hands to cast a spell. But I’m faster. With a flick of my wrist, I send a burst of dark fae magick her way, slamming her against the wall. She crumples to the floor, unconscious.
