Page 80 of Of Mercury and Mist

Isaac led me down a wide hall. “I’m not, but we can eat if you like,” I offered.

His throat bobbed. “I’m always hungry for you,” he whispered softly. “Always.”

The way he said it, laden with heartache sent a twinge through my chest. I rubbed my thumb against the back of his hand, and he squeezed mine in return. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a little off; you have since we left the dress shop.”

“No,” he rasped.

After he glanced right and left, he shoved a door open and led me down a smaller hallway before stopping in an empty nook. I heard a door open, some laughter, and then a couple passed by, shy smiles on their faces as the woman tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

Suddenly, the man stopped in his tracks and spun on his heel. “You,” he said, pointing at me. “You’re that sex worker from Angels.”

“Honey, I’m going to go get some more champagne,” the woman called out, oblivious, and possibly deaf.

Stunned over the man’s words and the woman’s seeming ignorance, my jaw dropped.

“I’m afraid you have her confused with someone else,” Isaac stated, motioning for the man to leave.

“No,” he shook his head and glanced back at me. “You’re Ashley.”

My blood ran cold. Was this the reputation I’d garnered by working there? I’d never heard a negative word about any of my coworkers, or from any of my friends, about the type of employment the club featured. It was a safe, respectable place and the biggest issue was some of the clientele, not the actual job itself.

“I’m not a sex worker,” I retorted. “Please leave us alone.”

He snickered. “You work there; you’re a sex worker.”

My blood pressure started rising. “Not everything is what it looks like, asshole. Leave me alone.”

Isaac stepped in front of me. “I believe she asked you to leave.”

The man reached around, snaring a clump of my hair in his hand. “I’d know this hair?—”

Whatever else he was about to say cut off suddenly and his body dropped to the floor.

Isaac moved his feet out of the way, and I backed up, moving to the other side.

When I glanced back up and at Isaac, it took me a moment, but I quickly realized he held the man’s heart in the palm of his hand.

Then, he chomped into it as if it were a plum.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Micha

My cover had been blown. Best I could tell, the blond demon Ashley entertained the other night was responsible for that. Until I was certain Kiam left the building, I thought it best to keep Ashley out of sight. While I generally trusted the man, when it came to situations such as this, things could get complicated.

I’d taken every precaution I could think of, but magic was as magic did. It was a tricky practice and unpredictable on the best of days. Even if I had been a sorcerer, exceptionally trained and highly practiced, there were no guarantees.

Best I could tell, when I angrily ripped Ashley from his arms, the magic slipped for a moment, lowering the veil.

Kiam called earlier, while we were at the dress shop. He told me under no certain terms would he hide my secret if Josiah confronted him. A flicker of guilt passed through me. Kiam wasn’t all that thrilled to have been helping Josiah and I with the things he had, and here I was demanding his secrecy and unintentionally involving him in my own fucked up situation.

The thing was, I knew they’d both do the same. As a matter of fact, Josiah had rebelled himself, in his own way, doing whatever he wanted and defying higher authority. His actions had threatened both of us and all we’d built together.

Ashley gaped at me and shook her head. “What are you doing?” Tears coursed down her cheeks. “Why the hell does no one believe me when I try to tell them things? Is that all I am to you, a prostitute?”

Tossing the man’s organ over my shoulder, it landed on the floor with a rubbery sound, as if I’d tossed a toy ball. I grabbed Ashley’s hands, and she winced as blood smeared. “You're not a prostitute; not once did I think that. What do you mean nobody believes you? Why do you care what that parasite thinks?”

“It's just always been that way. Nobody believed I didn’t set fire to my neighbor’s house when I was a kid; just cuz someone saw me there an hour before and I collected lighters. No one believed me I didn’t steal from my last job. All I’d done was go to get my lip balm and papers I’d forgotten; I had no idea someone left pills on the counter. And now this guy thought just because I work at a strip club; I’m a sex worker. I’m so sick of it. It's like this ongoing theme in my life.”

---