Page 51 of Throwing Shade
“Merci,” Laurent said, sarcastically. “Can we dispense with the niceties and get what I came here for?”
“Bloody ray of sunshine, ’e is.”
“Tell me about it,” I said.
“We’ll be back in a few minutes,” Laurent said. “Stay out of trouble.”
“Not in the agreed-upon rules,” I said, and swung the bar stool around.
The two wolfy businessmen eating charcuterie were speaking quickly and throwing not-so-covert glances at Laurent.
I sipped my drink, curious to know what they were saying. No one was looking, so I surreptitiously deployed my magic, carefully sliding Delilah from shadow to shadow on the ground. She blended in perfectly; no one would notice anything amiss.
I bent my head over my drink, because this required all my concentration, and I’d gone slack-jawed. Having a set of eyes crawling along the floor looking up in night vision was weird beyond belief and unfortunately the angle wasn’t ideal to hear anything. Sound wasn’t as sharp when I was in Delilah, and even with my hearing the club’s noise had narrowed down to a buzzy din. I was about to abort the endeavor when someone said, “Didn’t your mother teach you that eavesdropping was rude?” clear as a bell and I jumped.
Garbed in an old-fashioned tuxedo, the most notable part of their androgynous features was their beaky nose and spill of long hair that was the same dark blue as a pool at night.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
The person took the bar stool next to mine, settling their tuxedo tails as they sat. A deck of cards with the same inky iridescent sheen of a raven’s wing appeared in their gnarled hands.
“Let’s play a game.” Their voice made my throat tickle, like I’d swallowed a feather.
There were a series of answering “caws,” and the hair on the back of my neck stood up because there were no birds in here.
I stood up. “I’d rather not.”
A hand clamped down on my wrist and two beady black eyes honed in me. They nodded towards the wolves’ table. “Some would be displeased at being spied upon. We shouldn’t like that to occur.”
An argument broke out between the two businessmen shifters. One of them clawed at the other’s throat, but their paw was grabbed in Vikram’s huge hand before they could slice the flesh open.
Menace rolled off the grizzly as he spoke quietly to the two.
“Do your worst,” I said. “Those wolves have more pressing matters than me to worry about.”
The games master smiled thinly, jutting their chin at Vikram. “I did not mean the wolves. There are rules you are unfamiliar with here, and you are perilously close to breaking one. Please, let’s be civilized about this.”
Vikram grabbed each of the men by their collar as if they were pups and dragged them, struggling, off to a back-room door that was so nondescript in this character-laden space that it was ominous. He glanced our way and I shrunk back.
My neighbor cleared their throat. “Well?”
“You’re blackmailing me,” I said.
“Quid pro quo,” they said. “Play this game and we shall endeavor to assist you with the answers you seek.”
Anything that spoke about themselves in the third person was bad news. Still, I wasn’t going through that back-room door and they might have information about Jude.
“How do I know you can help me?”
The bird person shrugged. “You don’t. Life, sometimes, is a gamble. But if you win, you’ll find out.”
“And if I lose?” I leaned in. “What happens?
They tapped the deck of cards against the bar. “All will be as it was.”
There had to be a trap but I couldn’t find it and I was backed into a corner. I twisted my engagement ring. “What’s the game?”
“Memory.” They shuffled in a blur, cards flying from hand to hand, before laying them face down on the bar. “Pick two.”
