Page 46 of Suspicions on the Stage
I have to grit my teeth to keep from snarling at him—this is why I hate demons. Years of dealing with the Fae have made it easy to skirt their quirks and lexical gymnastics. Dealing with their brimstone loving cousins from the underworld is an entirely different story. “Understood.”
Punk Guy flits off to do whatever mischief he’s got on his mind, and when I’m alone, I sigh heavily. Minding my temper with something like this is a challenge because I’m fairly certain this goddamn menu is going to piss me the fuck off. The unfathomably wealthy often have unimaginable access to things the normal folks—supe or human—wouldn’t dream of. This kind of secret bargaining definitely means very unethical, illegal, and probably immoral things are on the table.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I speak quietly to my dragon, begging him not to go off the deep end when I read it. Stormdragons are vengeful and enjoy both justice and retribution almost as much as a vengeance demon does. Mine is wired to protect at the moment, but I can’t guarantee that he won’t want to ‘save’ anyone he deems in danger of being abused. So I sip my scotch while I talk to him, hoping to quell the urge to rip this place apart at the seams, and prepare my mind for the gut-clench.
When I believe I’m ready, I open my eyes and set my drink down, picking up the tablet. I click it on, watching as the screen pops up. The screen flashes with some unfamiliar logo before I’m presented with a simple, minimalist menu screen. I push the icons to expand the sections, noting that there are two sections—human and supernatural—that expand with sub-categories. Both types have listings for delectable, cerebral, sensual, and securable. Of course, this is full of euphemisms until you go down the rabbit hole—they’re probably using the camera to capture the face of the client.
Luckily, I’m here under an assumed name. That should hold them off for a bit.
“Here it goes,” I mutter as I look through the expansions under each term in the supernatural section. “Delectable is shit you can eat, drink, or ingest; don’t need that shit and I probably don’t want to go further in the menu.”
My dragon rumbles and I shake him off as I check out the cerebral. It’s information brokering, which might yield results, so I’ll come back. I skip sensual; it’s self-explanatory and I don’t need to know what kinky shit they have on tap. If I wanted that, I could find my own and I sure as fuck wouldn’t need to pay for it. My brows furrow as I click on securable, scanning the various topics like weapons, art, and collectibles until I hit gold.
Species-Based Services—that’s exactly what I’m looking for. Time to flag down the mystery demon.
the strays
MORGANA
As we alight from Iggy’s car, I take note of the area. Howl is nestled where the industrial district butts up against obvious gentrification, and I’d bet my ass the family who owns this joint is behind that as well. State U is in one of the biggest cities in the state, and it’s equal parts old money, new money, regular folks, and industry. Despite the love of old shit here, lots of neighborhoods are being swallowed up by developers to draw in younger, wealthy humans and supes to help keep the shine on its crown.
Capitalism at its finest, but I can hardly bitch when I arrived with a prince in some dude’s Bentley.
“Damn silver spoon assholes bringing me into their world,” I mutter as I wait for Lucas, Slade, and Liam to untangle themselves. The mocking smirk my bear gives me tells me he heard my grumbles, and I huff back at him fondly.
“Welcome to Howl, lady and gentlemen. Please present your identification to be admitted.”
Narrowing my eyes at the huge bouncer—a basilisk shifter, I believe—I pull my phone out to retrieve the duplicate ID I carry in its case. He runs it under a glowing orb, then turns to me with a knowing look. “Ah, Dean LeCiel. We are excited to host your first visit to our exclusive club. Please, enter, and enjoy.”
I might not be a trust fund baby, but my name precedes me everywhere I go since the trial. Sighing, I move into the small area behind the guy to wait for the others before I go in. I’m not risking whatever security measures they have in place without someone able to tell me what they are at my side. Lucas goes next, and he, too, gets a somewhat awed look from the reptilian shifter. The poor kid got it before because of his wealth, but since LaMount’s death, now he’s in my world.
Not an upgrade, but he’ll live. Lucas is resilient and Jackson will fix his problem eventually.
Iggy and Slade make it through with little fanfare, and the small holding space gets tight, but the shit really hits the fan when they scan Liam’s ID. The shifter drops to his knees, dipping his head as he says, “Your Highness, Crown Prince of the Daybreak Court, Howl ishonoredby your presence. Your valet will escort your party to the Fae royalty reserved table immediately, and anything you wish will be our pleasure to provide.”
‘Wow’ I mouth at the guys and they all chuckle. Liam is nodding, looking regally pleased as he moves beyond the rope to join us, but once the bouncer can’t see his expression, it changes. He looks annoyed by deference, and I canfeelthe irritation coming off of him in waves. “Something wrong,Your Highness?”
“Don’t be a brat,Maschula.” He tugs on his bun, then cracks his neck as he looks at the door, then finally touches the knob to open it. “After a few centuries, that getsreallyold. I didn’t earnthat kind of bullshit—not yet, anyway—and I don’t enjoy making people feel less than me because I hit the birth lottery. Some of my siblings are not so egalitarian, and certainly my father is not, but I much prefer simply coasting by without people bowing and scraping.”
If it were any other ‘royal’ saying that, I’d roll my eyes, but Li means it.
“Rich people shit has its perks, obviously,” Lucas says as he holds the door open so I can walk in after the prince. “But itisalso exhausting to never be able to do things without wondering if people are sincere or after the family fortune. I tried to hide behind my mom’s name, but… it didn’t work. So I get what Li is saying, for sure.”
Slade grabs my hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “They’re both right, even if your new money fortune and name come from crime, unfortunately. I wanted zero to do with it and had to go across the damn country to exist without being associated. State U was far enough that people here aren’t familiar with the Finns unless they run in shady circles. I don’t mingle in that crowd here, so it’s been a relief.”
“Gee, guys,” I drawl. “So happy you could bring me in on the tough life of being super rich.” My words are sarcastic, but my tone is more teasing than anything. I know all of them have had struggles, and that being wealthy hasn’t fixed the shitty stuff their families put them through. It’s just hard to reconcile that with the image of a guy kneeling like a serf of his own volition.
Liam takes my other arm, arching his brow at me. “Odious as our excess may be, love, it will be helpful tonight.”
“You think the dragon came in under your family name?” Iggy says doubtfully. “That would raise a lot of red flags… plus, I think the groveling snake would have mentioned it.”
“Oh, no, Ignatius. I definitely donotbelievehe entered with real credentials. Kaspar has been doing this work long enough to have a treasure trove of fake ones that are the finest available. If he’s here to meet a source, he wouldn’t want anyone to know he’s associated with me.” Liam chuckles and shakes his head. “Despite his inability to remain professional around Morgana, he’s a highly skilled guard in every other aspect.”
I give him a dubious look as a gorgeous woman rushes up to us. The chick is kitted out head-to-toe in a pastel fantasy-inspired piece of couture that makes me wonder if her pointed ears are natural or prosthetic. Her dark hair is in perfect curls with braids and flowers woven into it and the delicate filigree crown at the top is silvery. Everything about our ‘valet’ screams cosplaying to suit the rich dude, and while I’ll give this place points for speed, it makes me want to hurl on her bejeweled slippers.
Just because he’s a Fae prince doesn’t mean he has a romantasy fetish, people.
“Good evening, Your Highness. My name is Elora, and I will be your personal valet for the evening.” She claps her hands, the soft tinny voice full of exaggerated glee as she continues. “Anythingyou wish, all you have to do is clap your?—”
