“To avoid being kidnapped and having a goblin mage rip three wishes out of you.”
“An acceptable risk, far outweighed by the gift and the delights to be had in Rake Danescu’s establishment.” Prince Finnegan leapt down from the counter, and began walking slowly toward me. “I was getting a good show with you and Rake.” His smirk slid into a leer. “I could tell that you were enjoying it.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Tell me, seer. Had I not sneezed, how far would you have let him take you?”
Finn had endangered me, my team, and was possibly involved in the murders of three SPI seers. It was all a game to him, a game that the sicker and more twisted it got, the better.
“It’s your first night with the agency, isn’t it?” Finn continued. “It hasn’t been the most flattering launch to your career as a seer. Leprechauns are lucky, you know.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “You could always rub my charms for good luck.”
I slipped my hand into my purse. I’d been wanting to use this all night.
I Tasered Prince Finnegan smack-dab in his Chicken McNuggets.
I looked down at the leprechaun twitching on the tile floor. “Do you feel lucky now, punk?”
Ian stepped up beside me. “I’d say his luck just ran out.”
I’D had a Coke, Egg McMuffin, two hash browns, and now there were five leprechauns in handcuffs, packaged for takeout and headed for home delivery—and I’d made use of the ladies’ room.
A good end to a bad night’s work.
I had a question for my partner. And while I really didn’t want to hear the answer, I’d rather hear it now than be publically embarrassed at headquarters like the first team.
“Am I in trouble for zapping Finn?”
Senior Agent Ian Byrne grimly considered his response.
Oh great, here it comes.
“When I arrived on the scene, I witnessed a suspect in a conspiracy endangering one of my agents. She took steps to protect herself without lasting permanent injury to the suspect. I’d say the situation was resolved in the most appropriate way possible given the circumstances.”
I tried not to smile. “So I did good?”
Ian’s face was an expressionless mask. Almost. “I didn’t say that. I said that it was appropriate given the circumstances.”
To my way of thinking, that meant I’d done good. But as long as “appropriate” wasn’t going to involve yelling, public humiliation, and conference room door slamming back at headquarters, I’d take it.
I didn’t think the boss would necessarily see me Tasering a leprechaun prince in the Happy Meal as a good thing, but I’d be more than happy to have Ian Byrne put that in his official report.
“Will the boss tell the Seelie queen what happened?”
Ian nodded. “She would have been honest with the queen, regardless of how it’d turned out with Finnegan and his boys, but especially now that he may be involved in something bigger. And she’d definitely want the queen to have the truth, rather than the tale Finn will be spinning to make himself look like an innocent victim.”
“She gonna tell the queen that her chief money handler is a disgusting little shit?”
“I’m sure Her Majesty already knows that.”
“Why the hell does she put up with him?”
“He’s good at what he does. You’ll discover that there’s a whole lot more black and gray than white in our line of work. The people and supernaturals we deal with will have motives stacked on top of schemes. Alliances are as knotted as an armful of Christmas tree lights—and about as impossible to untangle.”
We walked out into the parking lot where our team waited in the Suburban. A prisoner transport vehicle had arrived—with extra guards—to take the five leprechauns home.
“What about who’s behind this?” I asked.
“We picked up a few more clues tonight. He—or she—seems to want Rake Danescu out of the picture, meaning Danescu has them worried.”
“Meanwhile Danescu wants his own personal seer to get to the bottom of this on his own.”
“Probably to see if it’s interesting enough to want a piece of.”
“Finn said he escaped from Danescu.”
“I heard.”
I blinked. “You heard?”
“I listened to your entire exchange. I knew Finn would tell you things he’d never admit to me or in an SPI interrogation room.”
I nodded. “The word of the new SPI agent against a Seelie prince.” I growled. “Can I zap him again?”
“Twice would not be appropriate.”
“Too bad,” I muttered. “Why would Rake Danescu let him go?”
“Because I imagine we’re not the only ones tracking Finn. The identity of who’s pulling the prince’s strings might just be worth more to Danescu than three wishes from a leprechaun royal.”
“Three murdered seers and one goblin dark mage willing to give up three wishes from a leprechaun prince. That’s something ugly.”
“And big.”