Page 21 of Gifted Thief
Once I was sure that Taylor was out of the way, I sprang into action. Desperate times called for desperate measures. I depilated, plucked and pruned myself to within an inch of my life, before liberally dousing my skin with the expensive scented moisturiser which I saved for special occasions. Then I grabbed The Dress.
Every girl has one of these – an item of clothing that says ‘shag me but don’t you dare screw with me’ written all over it. Mine was hot pink, naturally – and very, very tight. It cost me an arm and a leg but it was well worth it, even if I’d only ever worn it twice before and felt distinctly awkward on both occasions. The cunning stitching around the bodice created the illusion that my breasts were far larger than they really were and the fabric panels around my hips accentuated my waist until I looked like some kind of sculpted Barbie doll. It was bloody uncomfortable to wear and sitting down was not a feat for the faint-hearted. I had to go for it, though – I had no choice. It helped that the vast majority of men were generally pretty stupid when it came to such matters. I had no doubts that Sidhe men – even Sidhe men who had females throwing themselves at them every minute of the day – would be no different.
I was less successful with my make-up, carefully applying eyeshadow before stabbing myself with the mascara wand so my eyes watered and I looked like a Pierrot clown in the rain. I was clearly out of practice. I wiped it all off and started again, more slowly this time. When I was done, however, and looked at the results in the mirror, I felt satisfied. The effect was that of a wide-eyed sultry temptress. Byron would have no chance. Or so I hoped.
I ignored the tremor of fearful butterflies rippling in my belly. I wasn’t a terrified child any more, I reminded myself. I grabbed a bag, flinging extra lipstick and powder inside. Then, as an afterthought and because you simply never knew, I shoved Bob’s letter opener in too.
Tottering out on high heels, I almost collided with Charlie, my dodgy black-market-dealing neighbour. I usually avoided him. This time his reaction to my appearance served me well. For once, I got what I wanted.
‘Whoa! Integrity, wherever you’re going, I want to come too!’ He leered at me, his eyes dropping to my chest and lingering there.
I pushed away the creeped-out feeling that was threatening to overcome me and smiled. ‘Sorry, Charlie. Invitation only.’
‘I can be your plus one.’
I placed my hand on his arm. I needed both the practice and the affirmation. ‘That’s so kind of you,’ I purred. ‘But no.’
He almost dropped his bag. Given the fact that it contained his takings for the day and he usually clung onto it like a drowning man to a raft, it was the response I’d been after. He licked his lips. ‘Check this out,’ he said in a low whisper. He dug into his pocket and took a small silver sphere. Threads of red ran through it. I peered down.
‘What is it?’
‘Poison. It’s from a plant which grows along the Veil. It almost killed me to retrieve it. Give this to your worst enemy and they’ll drop dead in seconds.’
Ugh. ‘Why are showing it to me?’
‘It’s brand-new stuff, Integrity. And expensive. I’ll let you have it for free.’ From the lascivious look on his face, he had a different kind of ‘payment’ in mind.
‘I don’t want it. Anyway, you shouldn’t be venturing near the Veil. It’s dangerous.’
‘You’re worried about me,’ he said, his eyes suddenly gleaming.
‘No,’ I replied flatly. ‘I’m simply giving you sensible advice.’
‘The Veil is secure, Integrity. Nothing gets out of there and nothing’s getting in. You should check it out some time. I could take you.’
‘No thanks. Whatever the Lowlands hold is of no interest to me.’
‘Are you scared of a little Fomori demon?’
I gave him an irritated glance. ‘Have you ever seen a Fomori demon?’
He pouted. ‘No.’
‘Exactly. No one has seen a Fomori demon and no one wants to. The Fissure isn’t some cautionary tale to keep children in line, Charlie. The Fomori annexed half of Scotland.’
‘That was almost three hundred years ago. Who cares?’
I rolled my eyes. I was done with this conversation. ‘You can keep your poison. I’m on my way out.’
‘Why go out when you can party with me here?’
I smiled and pointed at his chin. ‘I think you’re drooling,’ I told him. Then I sauntered off, appreciating the fact that I could feel him staring after me. For good measure, I threw in a little extra hip swing. There was an audible sigh from behind. Charlie was a sleazebag for sure but I felt better knowing that my outfit was such a success.
Thankfully, the taxi was already waiting; I didn’t like the idea of hanging around on the street looking like this. I arranged myself on the seat, running through the moves I’d need to make to attract Byron’s attention. When I’d covered various different scenarios and was confident of the possible outcomes, I finally started to relax. Maybe this could even be fun. Maybe.
The moment the taxi pulled up outside the Astor Hotel I slipped into character, nodding imperiously at the doorman who helped me out of the car. There was a nervous moment when I realised just how high my dress was riding up on my thighs but I pulled it down in one fluid movement and strolled inside. From the looks I received from both the staff and guests milling around at the front, my plan was already working.
Taking tiny mincing steps, I made it to the bar without falling over. Then I crooked a finger to grab the bartender’s attention and ordered a glass of champagne. Normally, of course, I drank beer but right now I was selling an image.
