2
Sera was filled with restless energy.
Every cell in her body was screaming at her to get moving now, find a solution now, save him now, but she needed to think. After spending the equivalent of nearly an entire day sleeping, there was no way she was going to sleep now, so she may as well stay up and plan. She raided Seraphine's study for a notebook and a pen, reminded with a pang that her own notebook was still in possession of the Consul in the Gard.
She hopped up into one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter and set her pen to the page to begin scrawling. Her Mnemosyne rune was practically prickling as she started dredging through her memories for absolutely anything she could scrounge up about the Fey or the Wild Hunt. If she was going to find a way to free Rayce, she was going to need to learn the nature of the trap that had ensnared him.
Dozens of cities flashed through Sera's mind as she flipped through the catalogue of safe-houses she had established all over the globe with her creatively-won fortune. Some were no more than a tiny flat tucked away in a nondescript apartment building, but others were much more comfortable, like her Las Vegas home.
The common link between all of the locations she had chosen was their proximity to major hubs of traffic for Downworlders and Shadowhunters alike. She had been able to mingle from behind the safety of her powerful glamours, keeping a finger on the pulse of the world as she had watched and waited for the time to come to safely bring Rayce out of the Seelie Court. Five years was a long time, and she had met a lot of Downworlders. The only question now was which ones were going to be useful to her. And which ones could keep their mouths shut.
She was so lost in her scribbling that she hardly noticed as the room slowly brightened around her, the new dawn breaking over the lake through the wall of glass behind her. She was staring vacantly at the tap on the kitchen sink, lost in thought, when she heard a key slide into the lock of the front door.
Sera pushed back the stool and rose, her hands spotted with ink from the pen, and she crossed the kitchen to the hall where Seraphine was just pushing open the door. The warlock's eyes were red and she had clearly been crying. This had certainly been a night for that.
"Sera!" The tiny warlock threw her arms around her friend's waist and squeezed, tears beginning anew. Her clothes smelled of ashes and smoke.
The Shadowhunter gently stroked Seraphine's mop of black curls, careful to avoid the cat ears, since she absolutely would not abide anyone touching them. Sera shushed the warlock gently and whispered, "It's okay, Seraphine. We're going to get him back."
The smaller woman pulled back and looked up at Sera with unrestrained sadness in her eyes. "Oh, Sera, it's not just him. It's Alicante!"
"Alicante?" Sera felt a lurch of fear rush through her heart.
"It's burning!" The warlock buried her face back into Sera's chest, tears spotting the white corset that was now smeared with ash from her own clothes. "The Unseelie were planning it all along, the whole thing, ever since the Dark War ended! They quietly hooked lines of ley magic into all of the restorations they did, and last night they surged the whole system! It's... I just can't. I can't even..." She dissolved back into tears as Sera rocked back on her heels.
Destroyed! Her mind flashed back to a dream she had written in her notebook about Alicante resting on a chain of volcanoes that had all exploded at once. She'd never imagined something like this, though. The Shadowhunter home city razed in a single blow... the world wasn't prepared for this.
Seraphine hiccoughed and dropped her hands from around Sera. "I Portaled to Idris as soon as I heard, but the wards kept me from getting right into the city." She brushed at her eyes. "I have to go back; there's so much to do, but I wanted to be the one who told you."
"Thank you," Sera said softly, reaching back out to wrap her arms around the warlock again. No matter that she had only been there once; Alicante was every Shadowhunter's home, no matter where they were raised. What the Unseelie had done was unforgivable.
"I'm just going to nip into the kitchen for a drink and then get back – it's bloody inconvenient that they won't let us come in through the Gard Portal, but no one can find the interim Consul to give the order in the chaos." Seraphine moved toward the kitchen.
"Interim Consul?" She had a bad feeling about this.
The warlock hesitated as she opened the fridge. "Maybe I should stay a bit longer and catch you up a bit." She filled a glass from the water pitcher and took it back to the counter, looking down with interest at the mess of pages covered in Sera's scrawl. She raised an eyebrow but Sera waved her off.
Seraphine gave the Shadowhunter the condensed version of what had happened from what she had been able to learn from others who had tried to contain the fires. No one had been able to find Alec Lightwood or Magnus Bane yet, and messages had been sent to Herondale Manor with no response. Everett Whitelock had been named interim Consul until an election could be held, but there had been no sign of him yet. The Shadowhunters were scattered, disorganized, and dangerously unprepared if the Unseelie launched an attack now to take advantage of the havoc they had created.
"They won't," Sera speculated. It was her turn to relate what she had seen of the battle for the Seelie Court in her dream, and Seraphine's eyebrows made an excellent attempt to vanish into her hairline. She shook her head. "Unbelievable."
"Believe it," she answered.
"So, what's all this?" The warlock gestured at the mess on the counter.
"I need answers, and I've got some decent leads for where to start looking for them. I'm going back to my place in Vegas to set up shop. I can't stay here – everything reminds me of him." She had been doing so well, but she felt a lump rise in her throat as she said it.
Seraphine reached up and lightly touched her face. "I can come with you, Sera. You don't have to do this alone."
The Shadowhunter shook her head. "They need you more in Alicante." She took one small hand in her own. "Help them, Seraphine. I'll call you if something comes up."
The warlock hugged her friend again. "You had better. I want him back, too, damn it." Sera let out a surprised laugh and then pulled away to gather her notes and shove them into Rayce's pack. It felt good when she slung it over one shoulder, the weight of her boots inside clunking against her back.
Hands glowing pink, Seraphine's fingers curled up as she looked at Sera. "Where do you want the Portal?"
"It's okay – I learned a new trick in Idris. I've got this." She laid the palm of her left hand against the living room and a rune blazed to life, Portal spiralling open in front of her. She smiled widely at her friend before waving and stepping through.
"Well, that's bad for business," Seraphine huffed under her breath.
After a flurry of rapid Mandarin, Sera hung up and sighed. Unbelievable. She scrolled through her phone and then flicked open one of her Asian bank accounts to authorize a wire transfer while fighting back the urge to smash something. There was greed, and then there was greed. When the transfer was complete she tossed the phone down on her bed and turned her attention back to packing.
Her Las Vegas home was a quiet bungalow just ten minutes away from the Strip, and she tried to keep a low profile here. Sadly, a raging smash-fest did not fall under the category of 'low profile', so it would have to wait. Early-morning light filtered through the sheer curtains of her bedroom, the clear blue sky outside as perfect as always over Sin City.
It wasn't even 5am here, and she was already starting to feel the beginnings of a headache forming as she contemplated the kind of Portal-lag she was going to be experiencing now that she had access to them. However, no need for anyone else to know about it – she had booked her meeting in Singapore for the next day as if she still needed to fly. What am I going to do with all those Air Miles now?
She knelt down at the edge of her bed and rolled back the mat on the hardwood floor that covered the access to her weapons stash here. When she pried up the trapdoor she was relieved to see that everything was exactly the way she had left it. Her eyes passed over her crossbow and she reluctantly dismissed it. Not the right choice right now. She let her fingers trail down a matched pair of cold iron blades as she considered her meeting. Jiahao. She hadn't met him personally before, but she knew of him from her time in Singapore.
Rumours whispered that Jiahao had been a Lord of the Seelie Court, once, but had abruptly fallen out of favour with the Queen centuries ago. He had chosen to flee rather than risk execution or exile to the Hunt, and he had never set a foot back into the realm of Faerie. Jiahao had embraced life among the Mundanes with zeal, allegedly spending decades as a pirate in the South China Sea through the 17th and 18th centuries. In more modern times, he had established himself as a wealthy private citizen dealing in antiquities. Sera's hope was that he would be old enough to remember when the Hunt was still young, that he might have some scrap of knowledge about its beginnings.
She looked at the clock on her bedside table and sighed. Now she had the one thing she didn't want – time to kill. Still 14 hours left until the meeting. The allure of the Strip called to her. It would be easy to lose herself in the glamour, even at this hour. There was always a party going on somewhere. She chewed on the inside of her lip as she thought about it.
No. She shook her head. The best way to avoid the temptation of the casinos was to get away from them.
The iron blades followed her cellphone onto the bed and then she slipped the trapdoor back into place, covering it with the rug again. Sera packed a bag of toiletries and a change of clothes for the morning and then zipped up the suitcase. She felt slightly awkward with it. Is packing a suitcase to Portal a thing? Am I being weird right now? On the other hand, it was nice to be able to pack some weapons without worrying about airport security. She wouldn't even have to take off her shoes.
After a quick shower, she finally discarded Arynessa's clothes, dropping the ash-smeared bundle into the trash. She still hadn't forgiven the new Seelie Queen for selling her own brother to Remy in the Rift. Necessary or not, she still wanted to slap that perfect face.
She pressed her palm up against the wall and called up a memory of the Marina Bay Sands hotel from her last stay. The Portal took her to the elevator bay of the 32nd floor and she quickly allowed it to fall closed behind her while searching for any sign of Mundanes. Nothing. She breathed a sigh of relief.
It was easy to take the elevator down to the front desk and book a room for the night. Oh yes, this is the way to travel, Sera thought to herself. Room key in hand, she headed back up the elevator to the 28th floor and let herself into her room. The clock told her that it was almost 9pm and she shook her head in amazement. Well, at least she'd get to sleep while it was dark now.
The night passed fitfully as Sera tried to force her dreams to show her something useful. Swirling images of a sleekly beautiful male Asian Faerie taunting her as she slapped Arynessa and held her face-down in a sink filled with blood. She dreamed of dancing with Rayce across the night sky, his face hidden behind a black domino mask as they stepped lightly across the stars. A maddened jackal snapped at a black cat and came up with empty jaws. Sera opened her eyes reluctantly to greet her third morning that day.
"Garbage," she whispered, berating herself. "Useless, useless, useless!" She kicked back the covers and went to brush her teeth a bit more forcefully than necessary.
One hour of surprisingly air-conditioned public transit later found her standing in front of Jiahao's antique store, the white-washed building starkly decorated with black and red accents. She took a moment to reapply her glamour rune and took a deep breath.
Sera gave her first name to the dryad at the counter and was shown upstairs, past the tasteful pieces on display. The upstairs cases, however, were anything but tasteful.
Jiahao's private office was a long room complete with a red carpet running down the centre that led to his desk at the end. The walls were covered in dark wood shelves filled with exotic pieces... literally.
Sera could see hooves and horns carefully affixed to bases with tiny silver plaques, and there were several different varieties of tails preserved and pinned to boards to display their full length. A veritable rainbow of colourful spills of hair was offset by unique Faerie ears and Sera felt her stomach lurch at the sight. She passed the shelves and tried not to see the Fey trophies, but it was nearly impossible to avoid seeing what was clearly one of Jiahao's most prized pieces. A single dark, leathery wing was pinned fully-extended to its full 6-foot span inside a glass case that had been custom-built for it. Sera shivered when she saw it, a spark of recognition in her mind that she refused to acknowledge.
She had just reached the desk when a door opened to the left and Jiahao swept into the room. His wide cheekbones were balanced by a strong jaw that was lightly-stubbled to match the shading of a moustache on his upper lip. His almond-shaped eyes were completely black, though Sera knew that he would probably glamour them to a more Mundane appearance in public. He appeared to only be in his late twenties, but she wondered just how many centuries those eyes had seen.
"Welcome, Sera," he greeted her, his voice smooth and melodious. "I cannot recall the last time I entertained one of the Nephilim."
"And I'd appreciate it if you could continue to not recall entertaining this one, Jiahao," Sera answered levelly.
He bowed his head slightly and invited her to take the seat in front of his desk. "Perhaps this visit can slip my memory. You've expended a great deal of money and effort to meet with me – what brings you to Singapore, little Shadowhunter?"
"The Wild Hunt." She crossed her legs casually and leaned back. "I'm looking into its origin, researching its formation and purpose. I thought the best way to start doing that would be to find an old Faerie and see what came up. It interests me." Sera's mind worked overtime to think like one of the Fey, to play their own game of half-truths to disguise her need.
"A strange hobby for one of the Nephilim, I think," Jiahao's black eyes bored into her as his eyebrow lifted, not buying her nonchalance. "Perhaps you have a more... personal... interest?"
Sera's lips compressed. "Perhaps you should stick to telling me what you know about the Hunt."
Jiahao leaned forward. "Perhaps you should remember where you are sitting."
Her eyes flicked involuntarily to the shelves and display cases of gruesome trophies and she felt her heart rate speed up.
"Perhaps if you 'perhaps' me one more time, I'll 'definitely' take a piece of you with me when I leave," she threatened.
He laughed out loud at her and spread his hands to take in the macabre decor. "I think not, foolish Shadowhunter. These are all tokens from lovers I've taken over the years, and I hold no love for you, nor you for I." He braced his hands on the desk and stood, looming over her. "Your city of glass has become a city of ashes now, child of the Nephilim. I think you'll find that there may be a great change in the world on the horizon, and the days of Downworlders bowing to Shadowhunters may soon be coming to an end."
Dark menace began to seep quietly from the Faerie Lord where he stood over her but Sera stood up defiantly. "Tell me what you know of the hunt, Jiahao. I paid for answers."
His lips curled up into a smile and he made a neat gesture with his hands. "You paid for a meeting." The door he had come through opened again and two Faerie knights marched through. "We have met." The pair of Fey took hold of her arms and started pulling her back to the main door. She considered breaking free and forcing Jiahao to tell her what she needed to know, but she discarded the idea. She wasn't ready for this fight. He'd outfoxed her and caught her in her pride.
The guards pulled her out of the office, and just as the door closed she yelled back over their shoulders at Jiahao, "Gan xie shen me, hun dan!" She only heard laughter as she was hustled downstairs and back out into the street.
Sera stepped through her Portal back into Vegas in a huff. What a spectacular waste of time. She hadn't considered what the razing of Alicante would do to the political climate of Downworld. Surely the Nephilim were taking steps to reassure their allies and continuing to provide a stabilizing force for the Shadow World.
It was dark outside and her clock said it was just after 11pm. On which day, again? By the Angel, I feel like today is never going to end. Can I even say 'today' at this point? She started stripping off her clothes to shower away the Singapore humidity, grateful to return to the dry heat of the desert.
Her internal clock was completely messed up when she emerged from the washroom wrapped in a fluffy blue towel. She opened her closet and considered her options, reaching out to absently feel the sheen of one of her favourites, a shimmering gold dress that hugged every curve.
"Fuck it," she said under her breath as she pulled it off the hanger. It would still only be mid-morning in Prague, and she needed it to be nighttime there before she could make her next stop. She had more of her least-favourite kind of time now, and she was determined to kill it properly this time.
A simple glamour rune lightened her hair to a more uniform blond and faded her complexion to just plain tanned so that she could slip into a taxi like any other twenty-something in Las Vegas. She leaned her head back against the well-worn seat and sighed. Any other twenty-something with an impossible problem to solve.
She started her night at the Aria and moved quickly, getting back into her stride as she pulled at the edges of her gift to get a flash of a roulette wheel here or the toss of a pair of dice on the craps tables there. It didn't take long to start building her winnings, but she kept moving, restless. She felt like something was pulling at her and she tried to follow it without success.
It was around 2am when she finally took a seat at a bar in the Bellagio, kicking off her heels to rub her feet a bit. She ordered a pair of shots and tossed them back, staring into the mirror behind the bottles. Music and laughter surrounded her, and the smell of cigarette smoke was everywhere. The world was so full of life – so why did she feel so dead?
"Lay-dee Luck!" A voice startled her out of her rumination and she looked over her left shoulder as a young man sidled up onto the bar stool next to her. He was completely unremarkable – mousy brown hair that looked like his mother still cut it in the kitchen at home and a scrawny build that he tried to improve with stylish clothes... without success. He was wearing a navy blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, baring his paradoxically pale forearms. He was a native of Las Vegas, yet he never seemed to tan or burn. Sera had previously put forth the theory that he was so white he was actually reflecting the sun. He hadn't been amused. His defining feature, though, was the pair of dark sunglasses that hid his milky eyes.
"God, Steven, what kind of cologne is that?" Sera wrinkled up her nose as the smell assaulted her.
"Ah... Eau de Sexy?" he ventured innocently.
"Mmhmm. More like Eau de Please Shower As Soon As Possible." She signalled the bartender for another shot. She was going to need it.
"I kept the receipt, don't worry," he reassured her.
"I won't."
The shot arrived and Sera downed it as Steven's face lit up with a smile. "I was thinking of some new names for my act. What do you think of 'Mysterio'?"
Sera coughed, the alcohol burning the back of her throat a bit. "I don't think you can afford the copyright infringement lawsuit."
"What about 'The Vegas Voyeur'?" He lifted his hands and spread them above his head as if visualizing his name in lights.
"You're going to get arrested."
"'The Blind Wonder!'"
"Steven. Stop. You're going to hurt yourself." Sera signalled for another drink and the bartender lifted his eyebrow. She waved off his concern and rolled her eyes sideways at her unexpected company.
"No, I won't," Steven protested.
She poked a finger at his chest. "Then I'll help you hurt yourself – you feel me?"
He brushed her finger away casually. "Ooooh, you're a bitch when you're drunk, Sera."
"Uh huh, you should see me sober. What's up? I don't really need you blowing my cover right now." Her drink arrived and she closed her hand around it, but left it on the bar.
"Relax. Everyone else is seeing you with their eyes." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "I'll always see you with my heart."
"I'm still not going to sleep with you, Steven."
His face fell in mock disappointment. "Maybe not yet. But a guy can dream, okay?" He cleared his throat before continuing in a lower voice. "Did you hear about what happened to Alicante?"
"Yeah," Sera's voice slipped. "I've heard. I'm interested to know how a Mundane already knows about it, though."
"I'm mostly Mundane," he corrected her sulkily. "And you know that I listen extra hard around here to make up for this." He gestured at his sunglasses.
"I hope you have something better than that to risk exposing me like this, Mister Mostly-Mundane."
"Ooh, that's catchy. And yeah. I've been trying to find you all night just to give you a message, only to get an earful of abuse instead." He hung his head, milking the sympathy card.
"You love it when I abuse you. What's the message?"
He grinned. "Yeah... I do. I had a dream about you last night," he held his hands up defensively. "Not the usual one! A real one." Sera's eyes widened. She and Steven had met almost three years ago when she had seen him in her dreams. He had lost his sight in an accident at work, but the event had served as a catalyst to give him a whole new Sight instead. She had sought him out at the hospital after seeing him in need of her guidance, not to mention the small fortune it had cost to cover his medical bills. They had been casual friends ever since, with Sera frequently acting as a mentor to him as he learned to direct his gift. It was weak when compared to her own ability, but she felt a kinship with this weird boy. He was the only one who could really understand what it was like.
"What kind of dream?" she asked.
"It was short. Like really short. But it had that oomph, you know? That heavy feeling like it was important. You were walking down an alleyway that was bricked with skulls, and it was narrowing as you kept following it with your eyes closed. I felt some super bad ju-ju when a black cat crossed your path, and then the walls snapped closed, trapping you." He paused. "It was some bad shit, Sera. I know I can't do what you do, but this really gave me the creeps."
She laid a hand on his arm comfortingly. "I'm sorry you had to see it. Did you get any premonitions with it?" She had often lectured him to not just see his dreams, but to also feel them, since looks could be deceiving.
His face twisted with doubt. "I don't know. There was just like, this feeling, like you were looking so hard for someone else that you were blinding yourself to... uh... yourself." He shook his head helplessly.
Sera signalled for one more drink and pointed to her friend when the bartender shook his head. "You're the blind seer here, Steven. Not me."
"Are you sure about that?" he asked quietly. He heard the bartender set the glass down in front of him and his face widened into a lopsided smile. "Did you just buy me a drink?"
"Sure. You earned it."
"You know this means we're officially on a date, right?" He looked excited.
"And that means I'm officially done." Sera downed the shot in her hand and stood up to slide her feet back into her heels unsteadily.
Steven turned in the bar stool as if he really could see her and raised the glass in a toast. "You can't resist the Clairvoyant Cassandro forever, Sera!"
She paused, one hand gripping the bar for support. "You know, that one's not bad."
"Really? He asked eagerly.
"Yeah." She leaned to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "It's terrible."
The rest of the night was a blur for Sera, but she must have made it home at some point because she woke up in her own bed after a swimming haze of dreams. As consciousness returned, she blinked at the bright sunlight streaming through her window. Her clock read a little after 2pm and she swore softly. Portaling around the world was hell on her body – it would already be after 11pm in Prague.
She threw back the sheet and peeled off the gold sheath dress. Tonight wasn't going to be about having fun; this was business. Sera pulled out a short, skin-tight black dress that gave her a very unique profile with its asymmetrical one-shoulder design and cutouts that slashed down the sides to tease at what lay beneath. Tonight she had to look enticing while seeming harmless if she wanted to get close enough to her target.
Sera slid into a pair of black platform stilettos that had a criss-crossing pattern climbing to her ankles and then grabbed a tiny clutch bag to conceal a small silver dagger. The dress didn't leave very many places to hide weapons, and if she had to fight her way out tonight there was no way she would be able to hide enough to survive anyway. She keyed in the combination to her wall safe and loaded a fat stack of bills into the clutch alongside the dagger.
Now for the hard part. She stood in front of the mirror in her washroom and pulled open one of the drawers. Delicate prosthetics lay within and she took a deep breath. In the past, she had occasionally needed to alter her appearance for extended periods of time where her glamour runes would burn away far too quickly under the eyes of many. It was risky to try this where she was going, but it was safer than the alternative, and she could rely on her own unusual colouring to work for her this time instead of against her.
As she began to apply the small prosthetics that would change the shape of her ears to look more Fey, she let her mind drift back to the sludge of dreams she had had while drunk. Drinking usually messed around with her dreams, and last night (this morning?) had been no exception.
The clearest image she had seen was of Rayce and Gwyn tied together back-to-back under the cloak of the Hunt, each one struggling to break free of the other. Her heart lurched at the memory of seeing Rayce with his split-colour eyes and the dark anger she had felt in him. Her gentle prince would vanish forever under that cloak if she couldn't find a way to free him from it.
She started blending the edges of the prosthetics to make them seamlessly transition to her own as the memory of an unfamiliar female Faerie flashed across her mind. Silky black hair blew in the storm of centuries as they passed in the deep depths of a rocky canyon, her black eyes open and staring disconsolately as white streaks crept in to mar the inky perfection of her tresses. Her pale face remained dispassionately expressionless as apathy turned into atrophy, ageing her features until her former beauty was obscured by the years. She did nothing to prevent it, her dead gaze fixed and unseeing.
Sera shivered a bit to remember that empty stare and hesitated as she pulled out a box of solid black theatrical contacts. She sighed and put them in, blinking to settle them in place. Her reflection became much more unsettling as gold vanished under black, and she was now looking back at a passable imitation of a high-born Faerie with a shimmering gold complexion. A bit of work with concealer hid her runes, then she put her hair up into a messy sweep and added a pair of dangling silver disc earrings to complete the look. She was as ready as she could be now.
The familiar swirl of a Portal opened under her hand in the living room and she stepped through to a familiar street in Prague. It was nearing midnight as her heels clicked along ancient streets and she tossed her head back, chin held high confidently. She wasn't going to repeat the mistakes she had made with Jiahao.
There were no street signs in this part of the city, but she knew the way, and she soon descended the shallow stone steps that led down into a tiny square where a flashing neon sign read Kosti Lustr as it flickered from red to blue to gold over a black doorway.
A pounding bass line of electric trance music washed over Sera as she walked into the interior of the club. What had once been a church had been converted into a writhing pit of lithe bodies twisting under strobe lights in the throes of mad pleasure. The air was humid and heavy with the smell of bodies and fake smoke from machines mounted above. Sweat glistened off exposed flesh in the lights and white shirts glowed eerily where black lights bathed parts of the club. Sera could feel the music thudding in her chest and up through her feet as she threaded through the crowd of Mundanes who served as an unwitting cover for the real party below.
An archway on the far wall led her to a stone stairway that was worn smooth with age and the passing of countless thousands of feet as they had made the descent. Cool air trailed up her legs as she moved downwards and a new, more insistent music replaced the old. She felt it getting inside of her, waking up that wild part of that wanted nothing more than to throw herself into the fray and live. Her heart raced along with the beat and she didn't notice as her lips curled up into a small feral smile.
The real club stretched out before her as she stepped off the last stair and she felt a savage longing swell in her chest as her black eyes settled on the massive statue of a dark-winged angel rising on the far wall. Marble fountains spilled water down to splash into basins filled with fallen flower petals. Inhuman faces and bodies spun and danced on the floor, and above them all, a great chandelier of bones dripped black wax from its candles down into the crush of bodies below.
Sera forced herself to turn away from the lure of the dance floor and she made her way toward the gleaming black marble bar to the left of the stairs. It was lit with black lights that gave the vampire bartender a terrifying cast, particularly when he turned his eyes towards her. He was wearing what must have been orange contacts, and they were reacting to the unnatural light, glowing like demon's eyes.
She regretted not knowing a word of Czech, but no matter where you were in the world, money talked. Sera slid the bundle of cash from her clutch across the bar, keeping her hand on it as she gave the vampire a hard stare. "Andrej."
The vampire nodded in understanding and took the lump of bills. He ducked below the counter for a minute and came up with a key simply marked '3', and pointed much deeper into the club, across the dance floor. He picked up a phone and waved her away, hopefully calling the owner of the club to meet with her. Sera slipped the silver dagger out of her clutch and held it against the side of her tiny bag, shielding it from view against her body but keeping it close in hand.
Sera edged around one of the fountains and slid into crowd. She breathed in the lust in the air as she made her way through the heavy press of bodies undulating to the throbbing beat, their heads swaying under the spell. She could feel the hair on her arms raising as her blood rushed and her body begged for her to stay, just for a little while, but she kept her eyes focused on where she could just make out some of the stone alcoves on the far wall.
A werewolf cut in front of her, scruffy blond hair dripping with sweat as he reached one hand around her to grab her hip and pull her closer. "What's the rush, beautiful?" he yelled over the music in a Russian accent, his breath sour as he shouted. He grinned and his other hand slid up her leg under her dress, freezing her in place.
A vampire pressed up against her from behind and brushed cold fingers down her back. "Yes, stay and play! You smell delicious," he said in her ear.
Sera flashed a dazzling smile at the werewolf and leaned forward, shifting uncomfortably. "You can keep mine or yours, but not both – your decision," she shouted back at him. She looked down, inviting his gaze to follow hers. Her silver dagger was laid along the inside of his thigh and she pressed the blade upward threateningly to make her point.
The werewolf dropped his hands and backed away hastily. Sera was pretty sure she now knew what the Russian word for 'bitch' was, and she breathed an inward sigh of relief as the vampire backed off with his friend. They never would have been so bold if her Marks had been visible.
She made it to the VIP alcoves without further incident, slipped her dagger back into her clutch, and then let it dangle from its tiny strap around her wrist. The key slid into the lock on the glass door marked with a red neon '3' across the front and she let herself in, the music fading as the door closed behind her. The same sort of half-circle stone bench and table filled this alcove, as it did the others, though at least there were cushions here. Black candles burned in skull wall sconces. A small pewter tray sat in the middle of the table and held only an empty metal shot glass.
Sera only heard one loud pulse from the music outside as the door flashed open and closed again quickly, and then a darkly beautiful vampire dressed in a perfectly-tailored suit stood in the alcove with her. He looked as though he had been Turned in his late 30s, thick black hair moussed back in a lazy wave. His olive-toned skin didn't quite look right, giving him away as a vampire even before Sera's eyes caught the hint of sharpened incisors when a slow smile spread across his lips. Hazel eyes took her in with appreciative interest. His presence filled the room with sexual energy and Sera had to keep a grip on herself as he pulled heavy red curtains across the glass and closed the distance between them.
"What is your name, lovely creature?" he murmured hypnotically, his accent a blend of many from the centuries he had spent in this part of Europe. Sera blessed her hidden Marks for protecting her from the worst of the encanto.
"Sera," she breathed, pretending to be taken in.
"And what do you want from me for such a high price?" He reached out and skimmed one finger along her collarbone suggestively.
"Information about the Wild Hunt. I've seen Hunters here before; they are drawn to what your club creates."
He laughed, low in his throat. "And you are drawn to them? I'm sure I can satisfy whatever... Wild... craving you might have, Sera." Her mind struggled against her body as his aura continued to push against her defenses.
"I just need to know more about them, or Gwyn, or anything," she said breathlessly, head spinning. This was a lot harder than she had expected. She had underestimated his power.
His smile widened further and he leaned closer. "Then I have a name for you, and I'm sure it will be very valuable." He laid his roving finger across her lips as she started to ask for it. "But you don't buy information from a vampire with money." He traced the side of her mouth and down her jaw to let his hand rest against the pulse in her throat.
She stiffened. "I am not for sale."
He tilted his head to one side, a predatory look in his eyes. "Everyone's for sale, Sera. It's only a matter of negotiating the price. You want something, I want something. The only difference is that I think you want it more." He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small glass vial filled with a silvery fluid. He cocked an eyebrow at her suggestively. "You could even enjoy it."
He crossed to the table and poured the contents of the vial into the metal shot glass and then turned back to her, offering it lightly. "You can close your eyes and think of a Hunter if you wish, Sera."
Even as her body said yes, her mind screamed no. She had been furious when Arynessa had sold Rayce to Remy without a second thought. And now she was being asked to do the same. 'I'm sorry, Rayce, but it was the only way,' was what Arynessa had told her brother.
Sera closed her eyes to block out the confident smile on Andrej's face as he watched her struggle with the decision. I'm sorry, Rayce, but it's the only way. She gave a tiny nod and felt him press the shot into her hand. She kept her eyes closed and drank it without another moment of hesitation. It was sweet and sour at the same time, and sticky, though not at all unpleasant.
When she opened her eyes, the alcove was empty.
What? She whirled around to find the vampire, but he was gone. She tottered unsteadily with the sudden movement and put one hand to her head. She felt a rising elation in her breast, a lightness that freed her from the pressure of her search for answers. If her eyes hadn't been obscured by the black contacts, her pupils would have been dilating as she continued to turn slowly, taking in the small room with a new appreciation for every detail. She was starting to feel high, and the part of her that craved danger kind of liked it.
Trance music pumped in through the glass door as it opened again and Sera turned to see if it was Andrej. It wasn't.
Candlelight flickered and reflected off soft, white hair and Sera gasped in surprise before throwing herself forward. "Rayce!" She locked her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down to meet hers. He tasted different; colder, but perhaps that was just the difference of the Hunt.
"Sera... I'm not who you want," he breathed, hands closing around her arms to hold her back.
Her emotions were completely tangled by whatever drug was in the silvery drink, and she half-sobbed as she kissed him again, hands pressing against his chest and slipping inside the jacket he wore. "How can you say that?" she whispered. "You're all I've ever wanted."
He ducked his head back hesitantly, then nuzzled around the side of her face, lips trailing down to where her pulse was eagerly throbbing. "Just close your eyes; it'll all be over soon."
She twined her fingers into his hair as she felt his tongue flick out against her neck, back arching, her hips pressing against him. "I don't want it to end," she moaned.
Rayce drew back and Sera barely registered the gleam of fangs where his lips were parted. All she could feel was the heat of the silvery shot pulsing through her veins and his sensual aura wrapped around her. She curled her calf up around his leg and looked up at him seductively from under her lashes, biting her lower lip with a coy smile.
His eyebrows drew together and he shook his head, trying to keep control of himself. "I don't think you understand how dangerous-" He was cut off as she crushed her body up against his and kissed him hard and fierce, savoring the taste of his lower lip as she teased at it.
"I do. It's what I want," she sighed with frustration.
Black and green eyes ablaze with desire, Rayce lost his patience and forced her up against the stone wall of the alcove, his hands closing around her wrists and prying her hands free from the back of his neck. He held her pinned, her clutch swinging on its thin cord, and he felt her strain against his hold, surprisingly strong.
Sera pulled forward, struggling to reach him. "Rayce..."
"No," he said as he leaned down. Sera only felt a brief flash of painful pleasure as his mouth found its mark and he bit down, then her world exploded.
Sera moaned, low and uncontrolled, hands clenching in his grasp as the drug in her system amplified every wave of bliss. God, she thought, why did I ever have a no-biting rule? She stretched her neck to one side, absolutely lost in the sensations that were taking control of her body.
Her blood pounded hot and lush in his mouth and his eyes widened in shock before he drew more deeply, eliciting an excited gasp from her. It was like drinking from a font of sweet fire, a honey blaze of addiction that ripped through him like no other had in centuries. Only his age and position in the Downworlder hierarchy allowed him to break away from that perfection when he had taken his price. A deal was a deal.
Sera's eyes slipped open as Rayce pulled back from her neck, his lips bloody and his mismatched eyes shining. Her eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Don't stop..." she begged, doubly intoxicated from the drug and the effect of the feeding.
Rayce shook his head wordlessly and pulled her wrists up so he could trap both with one strong hand. He pulled a vial of what looked like ordinary water from inside his jacket and popped off the top, pouring it into his mouth before pulling her back in for one more deep kiss. A bitter taste assaulted her tongue and she swallowed reflexively. What the hell, Rayce?
It only took a few seconds for the antidote to kick in and she panted as she pulled away when released his grip. Andrej smiled back at her with wistful wonder stamped across his face.
"Bůh, Sera," he whispered, dazed. "What are you?"
Her head started to clear and she understood what had happened. She started shaking with anger at the hallucination, at the feelings it had unlocked inside her, but it was her own fault and at least the antidote had broken the spell. "Just give me the name, Andrej," she said, voice simmering dangerously.
He nodded. "Mark Blackthorn. The only Hunter to ever be released. One of you, if I recall correctly, or at least half. Your Clave might have tried to forget him, but some of us remember. If he doesn't have the answers you seek, I don't know who will. Somewhere near Los Angeles, I think."
The vampire stepped back in, his hands pressed against the wall on either side of her, caging her in as she looked down at her bag and avoided his eyes. His voice hardened. "Now answer my question. You may be trying to pass yourself off as Fey, but you don't taste like any Faerie I've ever had, or anything else for that matter. What are you?"
"I told you," Sera whispered, whipping the silver dagger up to plunge it right through his heart to protect her secret. "I am not for sale." His face contorted in disbelieving horror and he was only just starting to flake away into ash as Sera pressed her hand to the wall of the alcove and stepped back to Las Vegas.
**Author's note: Many thanks for Tara for providing the translation of "Gan xie shen me, hun dan!" ("Thanks for nothing, asshole!") and correcting inconsistencies in the Singapore section. I can't believe you get air-conditioned public transit. What a time to be alive.
Apologies for my longest delay in posting ever (6 days, oy vey!) - I still have 10 more days left before I get one off, and my Ride to Conquer Cancer is June 12/13, so I'll be out sweating for 220km next weekend. I should be back to my more tolerable posting habits of a chapter every 3-ish days or so after June 16th, but I will continue to limp along until then. Thanks for your patience!