1. One

Iwant to die.

It”s the reason I was here, staring at this poorly dressed, pasty—so pale he could compete with my asscheeks—trader.

He flipped his blond hair over his shoulder like a wet towel and dug around in his desk drawer.

It was stuffy in his office. Weeks of perfume and dust quite literally swirled around in the air. His cream jacket had a stain on it—brown or maybe brick red. And who wore a cream jacket with purple lapels?

Mr. Darcy was his name. I always thought Darcy was a stupid name.

”I”m glad you could make it,” he said as he finally stopped digging and slumped into his leather chair.

Leather? In this office? It took significant effort to refrain from scrunching up my nose.

The wood was so weathered from who knows how many years of neglect that the sealant peeled off, along with several mug rings burrowed into it. But the chair was brand new. Mr. Darcy badly needed an interior designer.

He picked up the mug, his thin lips slurping the liquid loudly. The noise alone made me regret agreeing to this.

”So you have a spell, then?” I wasn”t dancing around the subject. Get to the point.

”I do.” His brown eyes flared as he moved them up and down my body.

”Great. What do you need then?” They all wanted something: money, sex, drugs—an ancient artifact that allegedly held superpowers but was actually someone”s vase for ashes.

”Is it true?”

My left foot tapped involuntarily. ”What?”

Bringing his hands to his chin and folding his fingers beneath it, his stubble made an atrocious scratching noise. ”Nothing can kill you?”

”Hand me your pistol.” I was not in the mood for the explanation he wanted. Actions speak louder than words, after all.

Hesitantly, he pulled the weapon from its holster and placed it on the desk. His scrutinous gaze narrowed. Grabbing it, I angled the barrel at my temple and pulled the trigger.

The ridiculous thing about having your brains burst from your skull was that you didn”t feel it. So, while I lay in the puddle of my own slush, watching the second hand tick by on the grandfather clock, he sprung to his feet and rushed to me. He was desperately trying to resuscitate me.

They never believe it until they see it.

Mr. Darcy had the finest lines around his eyes. A deeper one burrowed into his forehead, and the grim expression on his lips begged for a bit of dramatics. When I winked and stuck my tongue out, he screamed, falling back on his haunches.

Five seconds later, I was on my feet, covered in blood and very much alive.

”Does that answer your question?” I dusted off my pants.

He nodded and gulped. ”You are quite something, Mr. Winters.”

”Atreyis is fine.” This conversation took too long, and I had better things to do with my night.

”I do have a spell. It can fix your…condition,” he said with shaky fingers as he gripped his mug. ”But I need something first.”

”Yes, we”ve established that. What is it?” The impatience must have been visible on my face because he frowned.

”Are you familiar with the Under Cloud?”

”My favorite Tuesday night.” I folded my arms.

”And what of the penitentiary?” His brow cocked.

”Basically, a resident. Get to the point, or I”m leaving.”

Back in the desk drawer he went. Fucksake, this man was disorganized. ”Someone wrongfully imprisoned my brother. Please get him out unharmed. Only then will I hand over the spell.”

I laughed. A bitter, deep laugh. ”How about a blowjob and that watch?” I pointed at his wrist.

Gawking, mouth slack, he stiffened and pulled his jacket sleeve down over it. Guess not.

”Neither are on the table. This is the trade. Take it or leave.”

I curtsied and then headed for his office door. Just as the knob turned, he groaned loudly. His feet clunked as he approached me. Up close, the man stunk. But I”d done worse and smelled worse.

Like that one time, they buried me alive, and for three weeks, I had to lie in my own shit. That was an event.

”Look,” he said while glancing up at me. Did I mention he was short? Well, he was. ”You”re the only one who can do this. Anyone else would never make it out alive. Someone framed him, and the court won”t budge. Please.” Oh, he did seem desperate.

”I don”t save people. It never goes well. While I will come out perfectly fine, your brother might trip. Hit his head on a rock. Then what?” I leaned down, and he sucked in a breath. He wanted that blowjob.

Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled out a silver chain. ”Put this on him, and he will be invisible.”

I snorted. ”So I can take all the fire? You don”t know who you”re talking to, do you?”

”Atreyis Winters. Immortal. Selfish. Drunk. Deviant.” He looked at his feet on the last fun description.

”I won”t do it.” Then I returned to gripping the doorknob. His hand shot out and landed on mine.

”Not even for the spell that will end your curse?”

Side-eyeing him, I weighed my options quickly. ”If he dies, you won”t hold me responsible, and you will hand over the spell. You know what they say about those who cross me.”

He nodded curtly. ”A deal then?”

Groaning, I opened the door. ”A deal. His name? So I know who I”m looking for?”

”Vastian.”

Scrunching up my nose in disgust, I narrowed my gaze. What an awful name to pair with Darcy. ”Vastian Darcy? What kind of twisted child abuse is that?”

”He is adopted. Fane is his last name.”

Smirking, I said, ”Better.”