Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Using Ramone's purple Love Wagon , we definitely did not arrive in style at the next Dine and Fight event. However, since this fight appeared to be taking place inside a scrapyard, the battered minivan fit right in beside monumental stacks of crushed cars.

Agent Leomaris was arriving separately, as they couldn't be associated with us.

The Love Wagon rocked as Victor and I climbed out. Some broken part clattered from underneath the van, joining the scrap littering the ground.

"A curious juxtaposition," Victor commented, eyeing the stream of glittering, well-dressed people making their way through ravines of rusted metal. Strings of lights lit the path. Victor's dark eyes gleamed with ancient satisfaction. With his hair French braided—pulled back from his face and draped in a tail down his back—and adorned in an expensive suit, he fit right in with the crowd.

I held open the driver's door, letting Zee hop out. He adjusted his silk choker. The purple matched his glossy fishbone corset, made classier by his liquid-like sateen jacket and black pants. "You ready Daddy Spice?"

"Indeed."

"How's my outfit?" he asked us. "I'm going for slutty billionaire."

"Then I'd say you have achieved your objective."

I smiled. "You look great."

"Of course I do. Now, where's the fucking food. I'm starving." He turned and marched ahead, tail swishing and glittery heels sparkling.

A live band played an upbeat jazzy song, blending trumpets with more modern swing. Exactly the kind of song Victor and I had danced to. I slipped my hand into Victor's.

"Are you alright, Adam?"

"Yeah, I just... I don't know... Coming to places like this reminds me I'm different, I guess."

We walked a few more steps, merging with the sparkling crowd. "Differences are what make each of us special."

"Unless your difference happens to be that you're the Prophesied One who will either save or destroy the world."

His fingers squeezed mine. We caught up with Zee at the entrance, showed our tickets, and passed through into an arena-like space. The audience had doubled in number since the last fight. The lights seemed brighter, the ring more extravagant. Some serious money had gone into this.

Brink Security and Cain Developments sponsorship banners encircled the currently empty ring.

As we headed for our table, I spotted the thick length of cables trailing from behind the ring, where the busy staff buzzed back and forth, and out of sight between more stacks of crushed cars. We had to get back there without being seen.

Zee found our table and pulled out a chair for me. "I didn't realize it was going to be this big a deal," I said, taking a seat .

"Everyone loves a fight," Zee said, dropping into his chair. "Sebastien talked about starting something like this. You know, making us wrestle while marks pay to watch." He flicked out the napkin. "His mouth talked more shit than his ass—" Zee paused mid-sentence. His gaze had snagged across the venue. "Oh, Hell no."

I followed Zee's glare over my shoulder and the heads of others seated next to us.

My heart missed a beat.

Gideon Cain sat at Commissioner Musashi's table. His salt and pepper hair had been slicked back with a wet look. Threads of smoke rose from the thick cigar wedged between his fingers. He appeared to be deep in conversation with Paul Musashi.

Hannah Musashi tossed Zee a knowing grin and small wave.

Zee reluctantly waved back. Cain noticed, and his shrewd gaze cast toward us. Zee turned the wave into sweeping his hair back, and ducked his head. "Fuck."

Half of my instincts screamed to hide under the table before the sorcerer saw me. But then Cain's gaze locked on to mine. The music, the chatter, the light and noise fell away beneath the sound of my pounding heart.

There he was.

The man who kept trying to steal what was mine. The man who wasn't a man at all.

My enemy.

Cain dipped his chin in a nod, but his satisfied smile grew.

After everything he'd done to us, every diabolical plan, he sat there in the safe knowledge that he was untouchable.

"Adam, Zodiac, there's no need to react," Victor said, taking his seat and smiling as though everything were fine.

"That fucker." Zee's tail lashed .

Victor, our calm voice of reason, said, "Let's refrain from giving our enemy the satisfaction of seeing us waver."

Zee growled and flung his glare toward the ring.

But I stared at Cain. Didn't blink. The louder my heart pounded the more I wanted Cain to know that I knew he'd been plotting.

He'd orchestrated Zee's capture at Shadow's incorporeal hands. He'd bankrolled FaeMade? Cosmetics, made with bits of Lost Ones' body parts, almost freezing us to death. He'd stolen Victor's evil empire—although, Victor hadn't much wanted it anyway, but Cain didn't know that. He'd been behind various attempts to kill us, and he'd used Tom Collins to spy on us, wiping Tom's memory.

Gideon Cain was at the top of my Bad People list.

And I just didn't like him.

Cain's eyes narrowed.

The deeper, darker, hidden parts of me stirred, trying to stretch through my glamor.

Let him see.

Let him know, I am not what I appear to be.

"Adam." Victor's tone hooked in. He and Zee were both looking up at me, concern on their faces.

I cleared my throat, and smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles in the lovely white tablecloth. "It's fine. Cain's here. Everything's fine."

"Does this change our plan?" Zee asked.

"No!" I snapped, then swallowed. "Sorry, I . . ."

"Take a breath, Adam," Victor cooly advised.

"No, I mean yes, I ... I'm fine." I totally had this. "This doesn't change anything. We still need to get to the harvester and destroy it." Cain wouldn't be expecting us to make a move on his evil contraption with him here, giving us an opportunity we may never get again. Our plan had to happen tonight. "Has anyone seen Leomaris? "

"Yeah," Zee nodded. "That joy popsicle is a few tables over, sitting with a bunch of their fae pals."

I glanced over and spotted Leomaris's green hair. They didn't acknowledge us, but that was part of the plan.

"Okay, good." I focused on our table again, finding Zee and Victor waiting for my instructions. A new trickle of excitement ran its cool finger down my spine. We were doing this. "Remember, we're here to stop that machine, upset the fights, but also find out what's happened to Claymore and Delores. So any chance we have to get information, we go for it."

"How we goin' to do all that?" Zee asked.

Good question. We needed a decoy. A way to slip out of sight without being noticed. There were a lot more people here than I'd planned for. Way more guards. Riding a werewolf—if I could find a willing one—wasn't going to cut it, and I didn't want the exposure.

My gaze landed on the one and only person in the entire arena who could pull this off. "We need a distraction."

Zee's face lit up. He ran the tip of his tongue over his sharp teeth. "Did you say distraction ? You're singing my fuckin' tune, baby." Flicking out his hands, he wiggled his shoulders. "What I gotta do?"

Zee knew exactly how to bewitch a crowd. Especially a mostly human one.

Victor leaned in and eyed us with obvious concern. "Is that wise, after what happened at the wine bar?"

Zee snorted. "That was then. This is fuckin' now. Just give the word, Kitten, and I'll make it so everyone is watching the greatest show in town." He tugged on his corset ties, and wicked delight shone in his purple eyes. "Nobody gets a choice."

His delight was infectious, and my racing heart did an excited little flip-flop. Nobody and nothing could resist Zee unleashed.

"Do not overdo it," Victor warned. "Human minds are more fragile than they seem."

"Excuse moi. Which one of us is an incubus whose entire existence relies on seduction?" Zee held Victor's gaze, and the pair of them locked metaphorical horns across the table. "Some advice, Daddy Fancy Pants. We just startin' out, but soon, imma teach you a few things even your thousand-year-old ass ain't witnessed." Zee licked his lips, and Victor's long dark lashes fluttered. "Now, let the master cook."

A smile tugged at the typically thin corners of Victor's mouth. "I'm looking forward to it."

Mercy, Reyzee was on fire.

The fancy starter dishes arrived, and the announcer appeared on stage wearing a dapper outfit of black tail jacket and top hat, carrying one of those large, old-fashioned steel microphones. He welcomed everyone to the semifinal of Dine and Fight, which explained the theatrics. Speakers placed around the scrapyard amplified his voice, bouncing around the columns of cars before sailing off into the night along with a whole bunch of swooping, colored spotlights.

The electric atmosphere touched the wildness in me. Or maybe the excitement came from knowing Cain was here and he was about to swallow some SOS Hotel medicine. Payback was going to feel so very good. I adjusted my tie—borrowed from Victor. Was it payback, or vengeance? Whatever it was called, I hungered for it.

A server arrived with trays of wine. When I reached for mine, the roving lights reflected off my nails—long, sharp, clawlike, non-human nails.

I snatched my hand back, dropped it into my lap, and uncurled my fist to take a second look.

Oh dear .

Definitely claws.

Zee and Victor were sassing each other, with Zee promising to teach the old man new tricks. They hadn't noticed my little glamor slip-up.

"I just gotta visit the restroom." Abandoning the table, I pushed through the crowd and hurried to the facilities trailer. Inside, another guest looked up. "Oh, hey. Uhm." I hid my hand behind my back until he'd gone.

Alone, I raised my hand under the harsh lights. Curved claws, like talons, tipped my fingers. They were definitely not supposed to be there. "Hello boys. It's been a hot minute since I saw you last." And they definitely should not be on display now.

Outside, the announcer declared the first fight had begun .

I needed to get out there, but had to fix my glamor first. It wasn't just the glamor either. For it to fail so obviously, the curse must have weakened.

Maybe it was just a glitch? Like the power outage. Just a little hiccup brought on from vigorous three-way sex? That was a thing that happened, right? If our bedroom activities had boosted the wards, then there was also a chance they had glitched my curse too.

It needed it to glitch back, right now .

I clutched one of the basins, and stared into the wall of mirrors and my cute, preppy, all-American face. Be Adam Vex. Be the lie, be the mask, be dull, boring, and forgettable. Be nobody. Be Adam Vex. Squeezing my eyes closed, I willed it to happen. Be Adam Vex. Be nobody. Cool, calm clarity fell over me. On opening my eyes, the stumpy human fingers were back. The glamor was snug again.

A close call.

By the time I returned to the table, the fighters' first round was over and the referee was trying to keep two angry trolls apart .

Zee cast me a questioning glance. I waved him off and grinned. "Too much wine."

Nobody questioned how, when I hadn't touched my glass.

The fight was as painful an experience as it had been with Harold and the angry fae, but thankfully this was just the warm-up round, and nobody died. They saved the gory murders for dessert.

At the break after the first fight, Zee shrugged off his jacket, leaving it draped over the back of his chair. His purple silk corset gleamed. "Now or never, babycakes. Let's fuckin' do this."

The lights flashed in his eyes.

I loved this part. Watching Zee work.

The announcer was back in the ring, all lights on him, trying to drum up excitement for the rest of the evening's events, but most of the audience were too busy chatting and eating to pay him much attention.

All that was about to change.

Zee sashayed toward the ring. His wings fizzled into sight behind him, rising up like purple neon signs demanding everyone look here! He hopped over the ropes, snatched the vintage microphone and pole from the announcer, then after a brief pause, stole his top hat too. He poked two holes in it, for his horns. As the announcer looked on in mute shock, Zee popped the hat on his head, brought the mic close to his mouth, and purred, "Are you ready to be entertained?"