It was a little early for dinner, but I was betting Holly wouldn’t object to heading to the Bloom early today. As a mortal addicted to Faerie food, it was the only place in town she could eat, so she and Caleb ate there daily—usually multiple times a day. I’d just catch a ride with them. Decision made, I refilled PC’s bowl with kibble, and then grabbed my purse and headed downstairs to track down my housemates.
• • •
I leaned against the polished oak counter. I’d broken off from my roommates and headed for the tourist side of the bar. The drug was being distributed to mortals, so I hoped I’d have better luck on this side. Besides, the patrons were less intimidating.
The bartender was an unglamoured satyr, his top that of a man, his bottom half furry with cloven hooves. As far as I could tell, he was one of only three fae in the bar, well, other than me. While part of the reason I’d decided to hit up this side of the bar was the fact it boasted less fae, the bartender was still the most likely to know what happened inside the bar. Or at least, that was my hope.
So, I waited as he served mortals overpriced beer and the occasional basket of pretzels. He was here to be seen, and he was doing that. He kicked up his hooves as he walked, exaggerating the movement so no one could miss the goat half of him. It was probably great for his tips.
“What’s your poison, darling?” he asked as he stopped in front of me. He tossed his head, making his curly hair slide back to show off stubby spiraled horns.
I wasn’t impressed—I’d seen much larger horns before—but he was working it for tourists, so I smiled politely. Leaning conspiratorially close, I said, “Actually, maybe you can point me in the right direction. I’m looking for Glitter.”
The satyr’s eyes rounded slightly, the smile faltering, but if I hadn’t been watching for a reaction, I wouldn’t have noticed. “Should I know what you’re talking about? What can I get you to drink?”
He hadn’t said he didn’t know what I was talking about. Only asked if he should. Which probably meant he knew something. Of course, it was possible he was hedging for no reason. The fact fae couldn’t lie meant many were naturally ambiguous in all their answers, regardless if they had something to hide or not. It was a defense mechanism of sorts. I didn’t know anything about this satyr, so I had no idea where he fell, but I was sure he’d recognized the drug’s name.
How did one establish a buy with a drug dealer anyway? Geez, who knew I’d ever need that type of knowledge? I didn’t even know how to pull off acting like a junkie who needed a hit. The movies sometimes showed rich kids heading down to the wrong side of the tracks to score drugs, but I didn’t have the spare cash to throw around on a bribe—unless the seven bucks I had in my purse would buy me information. I really doubted that.
I fingered the charm around my neck. There was one thing I had, though I had no idea if it would help me. Pulling the chain over my head, I dropped the charm in my purse. As soon as it lost contact with my skin, my flesh began to shimmer. The glow was subtle, but in the dim bar, more than a little noticeable.
Someone oohed behind me, heads turned. The satyr backed up, then he dipped in the smallest bow.
“My lady, I didn’t recognize you.”
I frowned at him. He didn’t know me, but he meant recognize me as Sleagh Maith. It didn’t matter who I was or what court I was in, the assumption was that all Sleagh Maith were nobles. It earned my table the best spreads of food on the other side of the Bloom, so I knew it had some sway, but I hadn’t expected quite such a reaction from the satyr. Of course, from what Caleb had told me, the fae working on the tourist side of the bar were all independents required to flaunt their otherness whether they wanted to or not if they wished to remain in this territory. Most had very few encounters with court fae, especially the court nobles.
“Glitter?” I asked. I figured short sentences were best—I was less likely to spoil the royal air.
“I don’t know much. There is a hobgoblin . . .” His gaze darted around the bar, but apparently didn’t find what he was looking for because it landed back on me quickly. “He doesn’t come in often, but I’ve heard him talk about the stuff. He meets people here sometimes.”
Perfect. Well, okay, maybe not perfect, but it was more than I knew before. I smiled at the satyr and passed him my business card. “Give me a call the next time he’s in.”
He frowned at the card, staring at the Tongues for the Dead logo. “Yes, yes, of course,” he said, and tucked the card into his smock. “I’ll return to my customers now?” He said it as a question, so I nodded and he scampered off, looking relieved to get away.