Page 7 of Dragons' Mate
"Because you weren't here yesterday, of course," her eyes sparkle with amusement. "And there are only so many hours left before all the eligible males are off beating their chests at the proving grounds. I might be a little isolated, but I do know some things that happen."
"You know everything that happens, Nadine. I’m looking for—"
“I know who you are looking for. Back room. Honestly, the sooner you can convince her to take her leave the happier my patrons will be. She's cleaned out some of my best cheaters. None of them have yet figured out what she has up her sleeve or how she puts it there—truth be told, I think that disturbs them as badly as the coin they are losing."
Quinton presses a pouch of what I’m sure is gold into Nadine’s palm. “For your troubles.”
“I’d rather you tell me what she is doing with the cards.”
Quinton snorts. “Counting them. All of them. Even the stacked decks you are using.”
“Ah.” Nadine’s brows raise with respect. Then her attention slides back to me. Beside the put together immortal and her perfectly sculpted charges, I feel like a stray kitten Quinton dragged in. Nadine inclines her head toward me. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
“She’s mine,” Quinton replies.
“Clearly.” The corner of Nadine’s mouth seems to be fighting off a smile.
“I’m Kit. And honestly, I’m as confused as you are about why I’m here.”
Nadine’s answering laugh is music incarnate. “No, my dear. I am most certainly less confused than you are. Or him. Whatever he says, don’t let him convince you that he’s—”
“That’s enough,” cutting off Nadine, Quinton starts to herd me to the next set of curtains.
“One other thing,” Nadine calls. “Night’s Veil is not to be found all of a sudden. What little there is is going at ten times the cost. And I’ve not heard of any arrest by the city guard.”
Quinton pauses. “So, someone is buying up the supply.”
Nadine spreads her hands.
“What is Night’s Veil?” I ask.
“A key ingredient in a rare poison,” Quinton says. “Tasteless and nearly clear except for an oily sheen. It induces body paralysis without affecting the mind. It’s used to rig fights, with the victim remaining unaware. Correct dosage is critical, so it takes skill to administer—and there is no antidote if you get it wrong.”
“You know a lot about poisons,” I say.
Quinton raises a brow. “I kill people for a living, human. Let’s go.”
With that warm ending to the conversation, Quinton nudges me forward through the curtains. We make our way through theOasis,past several large pleasure halls with fae of both genders in various states of undress and wits, to a door hidden behind an ordinary looking tapestry.
There is nothing ordinary about the room beyond however. Following Quinton inside, I’m immediately enveloped in a sultry haze of candlelight and rich, aromatic smoke. The walls, cloaked in plush, dark velvet drapes, muffle the sounds of the bustling brothel beyond. At the center of the room, a round, ebony card table seats four people—three male, one female.
Pushing me behind him, Quinton strides toward the players. We are two steps behind the female’s chair when a small line of fire erupts in front of Quinton's boots, halting our progress.
"Not interested," she calls, not bothering to turn around.
One of her companions, a well-dressed male with a pile of gold coins to match the expensive cut of his clothes, leans back in his chair. "I wouldn't be so quick to decide, my lady,” he croons. “You might like what you see.”
"Does it have a cock?" she asks.
The male’s gaze brushes along Quinton. “Oh, I think it does.”
"Then I'm not interested. If you are, please indulge yourself elsewhere.”
"Yes, please do,” Quinton says dryly. “Game's over. Stop toying with your food, Sparkle.”
The fire disappears at once, and the woman—who I presume is Sparkle—slides off her chair. She is smaller than I expected, a petite blond fae with hair in too many braids to count and a colorful dress that shows off a bare midriff. She’s also barefoot. Surely this can’t be the Lady Autumn of Slait Court Quinton had told me we needed to meet. Seeing us, the woman’s full mouth slips into a smile. "Silver!"
Sparkle? Silver?
