“Shut up a second,” said Teo, slipping on his mirror shades. He looked ridiculous; there was barely a blush of sunset left in the western sky. “There it is.” He stopped at an intersection and pointed across the street.
“The sushi place next to the bookstore?” I blinked. What was a Christian bookstore doing half a block from a drag show anyway? The thought had barely entered my head before it fluttered away and I found myself looking at the sushi place again. I don’t even like sushi. I looked back at the bookstore, only to find my attention wandering across the street to a coffee shop.
“Look at my glasses.”
I turned and looked at him. “Very nineties, Neo.”
“Not what I meant.”
“You want me to look through them?”
“No, look at them. Look at what they’re reflecting.”
Teo leaned down a bit. I reached to turn his face to the proper angle, and when I saw what he was talking about, I got goose bumps. I could just barely make out the reflection of what was really next to the sushi place: a pink stucco building with a neon martini glass in one window and a winged neon female in the other.
“Holy shit,” I said, looking back and forth from the glasses to the street over and over. Seeing isn’t always a straight shot to believing.
I yanked the glasses off Teo’s face and put them on, looking back across the street. Now I could still see the fake bookstore, but it was covered in shadowy mesh and snaky gold figures that reminded me of Arabic writing.
“Why don’t they make it so that the glasses look through the illusion when you’re wearing them?” I said.
Teo wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close and -nuzzling my ear. What the hell?
“Cállate,” he murmured as people gathered behind us waiting for the WALK sign. “Look, if I’m wearing these and don’t even know that bar is supposed to be hidden, I might say something to give it away.”
“And this is all a big secret.” I slipped an arm around him too, because why not?
“There’s a Code of Silence written into the Accord,” he whispered, his breath giving me goose bumps. “The Accord’s like a treaty; it keeps the Unseelie from invading and fucking up the planet for kicks.” Then he nabbed the shades off my face the way I’d done to him and pulled away, slipping them back on.
I adjusted the valve on my prosthetic knee so I could move at a better speed for street crossing. When the light changed, Teo grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the hidden bar. I trundled awkwardly along, cane thumping in the street.
“Your hair smells girly,” I said.
“Your opinion means so much to me.”
The closer we got to the bookstore, the less worthy it seemed of my attention. It gave off a faint odor suggesting moths and mildew. As Teo stepped toward the doorway, I grabbed his arm.
“Wait,” I said. “We need to double back; I dropped my—” I stopped. I hadn’t brought anything besides my clothes and my cane, and the latter was still clutched firmly in my hand.
Teo just grinned at me. “It’s so cute watching the noobs get glamoured.”
“That’s creepy,” I said, staring at the bookstore. “I mean, it’s creepy because it doesn’t even feel like magic.”
“Uh-huh. Keep moving.”
“Sorry,” I said, and obliged him.
“Millie.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re moving away from the bookstore.”
“Damn it!” This time I let Teo take my arm and escort me. Stupid fairies.
The moment we passed through the doorway, the spell dropped like a sheet from a birdcage, and the world burst into song.
Not just song, but deep, pulsing rhythm and color, so much color. Fuchsia and lime and orange and forest green and robin’s-egg blue, splashes and streaks and spatters and stars. There was no rhyme or reason to it; the colors seemed to have blossomed spontaneously from the walls. I don’t know why it was beautiful, but it was. Unlike most nightclubs, it was as bright as a movie set. Great feathered ceiling fans rotated slowly, sending iridescent bubbles drifting through the space.
The little venue wasn’t highly populated, but everyone in it looked as though they’d just stepped off a fashion shoot.
“Wow,” I said. “Who are these guys?”
“Sidhe. Nobility of the Seelie Court, like Rivenholt. If you think they look good now, check the reflection in the glasses.” He took them off and handed them to me.
I tilted the shades toward the woman behind the bar. Even distorted by the shape of the lens, what I saw in the reflection made my one good knee turn to Jell-O. Huge, luminous laven-der eyes, hair gleaming and writhing as though in its own private wind. Her skin shimmered like liquid opal.
I handed the glasses back to Teo. When looked at directly, the bartender was just an ordinary supermodel: strawberry blond and lightly tanned, with glitter-dusted eyes and a rack to die for.
“Baroness Foxfeather,” said Teo as he approached her. She flashed him a smile, then looked at me. Her expression changed immediately to an equally bewitching pout.
“What is that,” she said, pointing at me, “and why did you bring it in here?”