HEATH

La Fee Verte.

I stand with the others and examine the facade in front of us. To humans, the darker side street between the main road and the shopping area behind appears nondescript. The building itself looks like an unused clothes shop with printed signs in the window stating “closing down sale” and the glass doors filthy. The place is sandwiched between a tattoo parlour and a pub, useful for disguising the strange mix of people who hang around outside.

A glamour prevents humans seeing the true venue, but it’s one all supes can see past. In unglamoured reality, the building has the same front as many clubs throughout the local towns, including a sign lit in green neon with the name. They have guys on the door to warn off any non-fae who try to gain entry. Most wouldn't be stupid enough to try.

Dodgy shit happens here. Human clubs have their drugs and dealers; fae clubs have dealers too, but they trade in magic.

Generally, we ignore the subculture created by the fae who attend the club. They're no threat to anyone but themselves. This is where the vicious element of the fae hangs out, those who embrace the darker uses for their magic and shun the world. Light fae such as Portia claim superiority and self-control; but scratch the surface, and you'll find the same malevolence in them. Fae can manipulate and confuse, harm those who anger them, and many have no qualms about killing other kin who stand in their way of ambition and greed.

We last visited here to speak to the owner when we initially looked into the Portia plot, in case someone here was connected, but these fae are too stoned on magic to give a shit about anything.

Every fae visiting the joint knows who we are and will avoid us if necessary. We're not concerned with fae, or their activities, unless we detect something more sinister around. We’re more bothered by activities at the Warehouse since humans and supes both visit the place and humans could be targets.

We've met Syv here before. Although we keep ourselves and activities strictly separate, she has extra knowledge about underground activities in the supernatural world. This helps when the forces connected aren't visible in the human world. In the past, we've contacted Syv for the lowdown when we have names that need tracing, but often we can't find her. She's not entirely reliable anyway.

Taron's death brought us back together, and I hope this means she'll help out rather than disappear.

The narrow venue contains four floors. Two hold small dance floors and bars, the other two a quiet “chill out” area, and at the top, the room used by Mac. He's another fae who goes by a single name, no doubt due to his profession.

I've met him, and he's basically a stoner and a dealer who holds enough sway over the club to have his own quarters. The clients he attracts pay a large entry fee, and indulge in alcohol, so the gig is mutually profitable.

We're not entirely sure how or what magic is dealt, nor do we care. The Horsemen aren't here to police this shit.

Portia's court pretend the addicts don't exist, and they barely do. Hell, the idea they could cobble together any kind of plot against others is laughable. These fae are too stoned on magic to give a shit about anything. They're so far on the fringes they're falling off the edge into oblivion caused by their addiction. Us? We have more important things to deal with than fae social issues.

Especially now they want fuck all to do with us.

Xander strides through the crowded entrance, jostling past fae taking up space in the small hallway as they stop and chat. Nobody looks at us as we pass; I avoid making eye contact with anybody, but as Seth trips after us he fails to hide his open-mouthed staring at the bizarre outfits and hairstyles.

I've never been in the presence of so much latex and leather in my life, and definitely not around as much naked flesh. A girl beside me wears so little it's a good thing the tattoos cover enough skin to give her some modesty.

I follow Xander into the brightly lit bar area filled with loud music and louder hair colours. Xander's arranged a meet with Syv in a quieter bar area on the third floor, and we push through to the narrow staircase. The small room we reach has walls painted in purple with murals of forest scenes. People are draped on sumptuous sofas, around tables holding drinks, some talk in soft voices, others stare into space, hypnotised by the lyrical voice in the music playing.

Syv lies horizontally across a sofa close to the bar, jacket under her head, holding her phone above her head and texting. Her hair hangs half way to the floor, and her motorcycle boots rest on the other sofa arm. She turns her head and watches impassively as we approach.

"Wow, you're all here, including your pet human. I didn't realise I was so alluring."

She saves her sweetest smile for Seth who grins back like an idiot at her seductive tones. He stumbles back to sit on a nearby sofa, and Vee sits beside him, Ewan on her left.

"We're sticking together right now," replies Xander and looks down at her. "Move so I can sit. Please."

"Buy me a drink." She smiles up at him. "Please."

Syv knows how to push Xander's buttons, but who doesn't? Try to control the control freak and watch the sparks fly.

"Joss." Xander doesn't turn around.

Joss mutters something about being his slave and stands. Seth shifts along the sofa, closer to the sofa Syv sits on, transfixed. I've no interest in her—never have—and find her choice of dress amusing. It takes something to be able to pull off the leather pants look and not appear tacky. She also wears a tank top with low cut arms, revealing her naked side and a black bra strap. Several necklaces hang around her neck, some spoils she's kept for herself from her travels. Are they magical? I'd lay bets at least one must be.

Syv's tempting to many, but hates male advances. Not that she invites many, unless she's in the mood. I've never seen her with any guys apart from Taron and Abel, but I have no interest in her personal life.

I never had any interest in her, either.

Judging by Seth's goldfish-faced staring at her, he does. Now that would be something bloody funny to see—Seth flirting with a chick. I've watched for signs he's attracted to Vee, and if he is, he keeps his thoughts well hidden.

Syv sits and swings her long legs around, facing us, and Xander places himself sideways on the sofa to look at her.

She tucks her phone in the leather jacket pocket and looks around. "Your visit to the Collector went well, I hear."

"Did you look at the images I texted to you before?" Xander asks.

"Yep."

"And?"

"I've not seen anything like them before. Col told me they're older than him and not fae. They don't look demonic to me either."

I smile to myself. She has to be one of the only people who calls the Collector anything but his full name.

"But have you looked for magical items as old before?" I ask.

"Yeah. They're harder to find. Mostly amulets, fetishes, and shit that have a connection to my clients' races. For example, I know if I'm looking for a fae item to look for particular gems or talismans depending on the court. This? Sometimes hidden in the weirdest items. I've found old bones with this type of rune carved, but also located something inside books. There's no knowing what to look for." She pauses. "Humans like to put things in museums, which is bloody stupid on their account as anybody could take them."

"Anybody such as you?" asks Ewan.

She winks at him.

"How do you know where to look for things?" asks Vee.

"If I have a lead, I follow it. I have a skill for detecting magic sources around. Put me in the vicinity and I'll know." She pauses. "It's acquiring them that can be the dangerous part, and I'm skilled in that area too. Hence, I'm expensive."

Joss reappears from the bar with three drinks. He passes a small glass containing clear liquid to Syv, a glass to Vee, and sits with his beer.

"Where's ours?" asks Ewan.

"Oops I forgot." He grins before swigging from the bottle.

"We found the rune used in a human company logo. Have you heard of Myriad Foundation?"

"Nope." She drinks. "What is the Myriad Foundation?"

“We’re still investigating exactly what they do, but it’s community-based projects of some kind. Helping the homeless or something.”

"How cute."

"We have some people’s names and want you to see if you recognise any." I pull a folded sheet from my pocket and pass the paper to Syv.

She holds it between two fingers and scans the words. "Nope."

Xander huffs and rests back.

"I'm unclear exactly what you want me to do." Syv knocks back the remaining contents and gently places the glass on the table. "Find someone or find something?"

"We need you to search for anything that could be linked to the runes. A cypher. A book. Anything at all."

She hands back the paper. "Yeah, that might be wasting my time. I'm on another job right now."

"Doing what?" asks Ewan.

"Collecting." She gives him a sweet smile. "I want out of this shitty winter. I'm leaving next week."

Shit.

"We can pay for you to stick around," says Xander. "This is important and not just to us."

"Yeah, but, Xander, everything's always important to you guys. What makes this so different?"

"Someone's trying to kill us," says Joss.

"And? That's not new either."

Xander flashes Joss a look. "Surely you realise if someone is using magic this old, then they could be more powerful than anybody we've come across before."

Syv wrinkles her nose. "Possibly. Or this could be someone who thinks they can wield the magic and ends up killing themselves. Problem solved."

"I admire your optimism," I reply.

Syv shakes her hair from her face and sips her drink, sizing up the situation. "I might be able to spare some time to help. If you can get me an 'in' to the place, I'll scout around before I leave." She pauses and flicks her fingers. "Then, if I think there could be something to investigate, I will. Cash upfront."

"Yeah, right," scoffs Xander.

She places her glass down. "Suit yourself. Maybe when I return from the States I can help you then."

I throw Xander a look as she stands.

"Wait. Okay. How much?"

"Ten thousand."

Ewan chokes on his drink and Xander's lips thin as she waits.

I glance at Xander. "Sit down. Let's negotiate."

Syv drains her glass and rubs her lips together. "Sounds good. Maybe we should all get some more drinks."

"I'll get them. Ewan?" I incline my head towards the nearby bar. Most in the room are sitting, leaving the barman with elbows on the table and a glazed look. I'd say boredom, but I'm unsure who's drunk or if they're using the magic dealt here.

I haven't had a chance to speak to Ewan about recent events. I know Xander has, and he’s concerned something still bothers him.