"Haven't you noticed his sly attempts to come between us?" continues Ewan.
"I think that's because he can see a weakness. I'd be pretty pissed off if I was being dragged around by people who don't trust me. I’d probably try to piss them off too."
Ewan makes a humph sound and swigs from his bottle. "If he steps out of line, I'll be down on the guy like a ton of fucking bricks."
The man at the bar wanders off with beers in his hand, and he’s replaced by two girls. These fae don't keep their distance, and they shuffle towards us. One bumps me, and I turn my head. Two slender girls with the pink hair and glitter-covered skin smile up at us; their faces and eyes are as identical as their clothes. Twins? One sidles closer and runs her fingers along my cheek, mouth curling into a seductive smile.
Classic fae behaviour. No personal boundaries.
I grab the girl’s wrist and pull her hand away. “Bad luck, if you’re here for an easy hook-up, move on.”
She peers at us through the dim light, then grips the other girl’s arm and her voice pitch rises in delight. "Lizzie, they're two of the Horsemen.”
Oh crap. Seriously, once-over I enjoyed the rock star reaction to us, even though I'd never touch a fae.
"Oh, wow!" breathes out Lizzie. "Why are you here?"
Ewan straightens and looks down at her. "How old are you?"
"Twenty." She fights a smile. "Almost. I’m Stella.”
"I've seen you around before,” he replies.
I groan inwardly as Stella twirls hair around her finger. "We are memorable, I guess."
"Heath. They were in pictures with Elyssia at the Warehouse, back when we were looking for clues about the demon guy who attacked Portia." He points between them.
"Are you friends with Elyssia de Court?" I ask.
The glances they exchange already answered my next question. "Is she with you tonight?"
Stella shakes her head. "No."
"Maybe we should ask Vee to question them?" Ewan says. "She'll know if they're lying."
Lizzie interrupts. "We haven't seen her for a few days. She's been fighting with her mum, badly, and she's threatening to leave."
"What?" I straighten. "When did she say this?"
Lizzie shrugs. "Dunno."
"When did you last see Elyssia?"
The bartender places two bottles of brightly coloured alcohol in front of Stella, and she switches her seductive smile to him instead as she hands over cash.
"We're not her keepers.” Lizzie, takes a bottle. “She prefers humans anyway. I’ve no idea why she's spending time with Mac and—ouch!"
Stella interrupts by stamping on Lizzie’s foot. "We don't know where she is or what she's doing. I don't understand why Elyssia is so interesting to you." She pouts and straightens her already flimsy top, revealing more flesh than appropriate. "Is it because she’s a princess? You know she’s not the only beautiful fae, right?"
I sigh. Ah fae, and their modesty.
"Is Mac here?" snaps Ewan.
"Mmmm." Stella licks her lips, mouth parted with pleasurable memories. "Oh, yeah."
"They're addicts," I say to Ewan.
"We're not! We just dabble." Lizzie giggles, grating my nerves.
Fae elders are aware of their teen faes’ activities, but they are powerless to do anything apart from educate their offspring. If fae authorities did crack down, the club would burrow deeper underground. We toyed with the idea that Elyssia may've met her demon buddies there, but demons could never gain entry to the place. The fae would know straightaway who they were, and they wouldn’t survive. One thing they do share with their light kindred is a hatred of demons. Syv must have something over the owners if they let her half-demon self into the joint.
"So Mac's in tonight?" he asks and points to the top of the building.
The girls nod, and I sidestep them. "We need to speak to him."
Stella smiles up at me. "Does fae magic work on Horsemen? Did you want to try some out?"
"No. Excuse me." I attempt to move, but Stella remains still. She traces fingers across my chest, biting her lips as she moves them downwards. “Impressive.”
I scowl at Stella and shove her hand away. I’d be angry, but there’s also something amusing about her self-assurance.
Ewan doesn’t share my thoughts. “Go away, little girls,” he growls.
"Fine." Stella drops her interest as quickly as I dropped her hand. She tips her chin. "I bet you wouldn't be as miserable if you were less frustrated. If you change your mind, we can help with that issue."
"And I bet your parents wouldn't be happy you're here. I can find out your names." Ewan's sour face is enough for them to step back. Without another word, the pair hightail it from the room with their drinks.
"I think we need to check the place to see if Elyssia is around," I say.
"Not my monkey, not my problem," mutters Ewan. "If Portia needs help, she'll ask us."
"Will she?"
"C'mon, Heath, I don't think the fae queen needs help controlling anybody."
"That's not what I mean. I know Elyssia is an immature pain the arse, but the fact she's young and stupid is what causes problems."
"Like I said, not my problem. Come on."
I swear the fae girl was about to out Elyssia for spending time with the drugged fae element. If she has a dealer, I bet he doesn’t know who Elyssia is.
Either that or he doesn't value his life if he's screwing around with Portia's daughter.
"No. We need to check." I head towards the open doorway and into the small space between the stairs up and down.
"Wait, Heath," he calls. I stop on the steps, one hand on the wall and look back. "Let me tell Xander where we're going."
I crane my head to look for the others. They're still positioned around the table. Although many would think Xander's relaxing, he's on alert, taking in everything happening around him and who's coming and going. I admire his calmness tonight—how long will that last?
I give a curt nod and rest my back against the wall.
9
HEATH
The stairs stop abruptly in a low-ceiling area, where a row of wooden chairs line the dark-blue painted walls. Two men sit on seats outside Mac's room, and the black door, which almost blends into the wall, is shut. I expected bodyguards or some kind of security, but the only people here are fae kids sitting in silence as if waiting at a doctor’s surgery.
A guy with spiked, blue hair and enough metal in his face to make cutlery from stares at his shoes; the other rests his head against the wall and stares upwards. He looks human, but I don't think he is, just a fae who normally blends himself into their society.
"I don't want to waste my time on this." Ewan walks straight by and yanks at the door handle. The metal-faced guy jumps to his feet as he begins to open the door.
"I'm next! And you can't go in there without an appointment." Desperation fills his voice, not anger, but if he confronted Ewan bets are off who'd win.