I lean in close to my mother’s ear. “I’ve found you one.”
My mother's red-stained lips stretch into a pleased smile as she licks them in anticipation of a fresh meal.
“Where?” she croons, eyeing the crowd with pent-up excitement. It’s been at least a month since she last fed, and her hunger has reached a fever pitch.
I stare across the expanse to the other side of the room where the man is chatting lively with the girl he just gave the drink to.
“Do you see that man in the red shirt, talking to the busty blonde?” I ask, staring straight at the couple.
Syndra follows my gaze. She looks him up and down. “He should be fun to play with, but you know what I always say…”
“The bigger they are, the less stamina they seem to have.” It’s a complaint I’ve heard her vocalize hundreds of times. “That's always seemed a little counter-intuitive to me.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t make the rules, my love. Maybe this one will be different. Though, I doubt I’ll get so lucky. Odds are he’ll only be good for one night.”
“Then enjoy the rest of your evening,” I tell her. “I’m going home.” I turn to leave, but before I can, my mother grabs my arm to stop me.
“So soon?” she says disappointedly. “Don’t you want to stay and see if you can find yourself someone to take home? I hate to think of you being all alone in that dinky apartment of yours with only Sylvester to keep you company.”
“Honestly, I prefer the company of my cat to most humans.”
Syndra shakes her head at me in disappointment. “Sometimes, I think you’re a lost cause.”
I lean over and kiss my mother on the cheek. “Have fun with your human. I’ll be at your house in the morning to help you get rid of the body.”
“Goodnight, my love. See you tomorrow.”
I watch my mother turn and walk away to seek out her pre-Halloween treat. When I look back over at the man she’s about to beguile, I almost feel a pang of guilt for being the person who has doomed his life. That is until I see the girl he’s with grab onto the railing to steady her wobbly legs. She looks like she’s about to pass out, which can mean only one thing: the man spiked her drink with something. I’ve seen the signs more times than I like to count. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that the man is living up to his red aura and deserves exactly what he’s about to get.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I see my mother walk up to the couple. She quickly assesses the situation and gets a bouncer in the club to handle the girl while she draws the man into her sexual web of delights and false promises. As she begins to slide her hands down the front of his shirt, I turn to make my way out of the hustle and bustle of Omnia’s Halloween extravaganza. I do intend to go home eventually, but first, I have an appointment to keep, and every minute I’m late will undoubtedly cost me money.
I walk the short distance to the Vista Cocktail Lounge inside Caesar’s Palace. Once I’m there, I spy the man I’m here to meet, sitting at the bar nursing a martini. His name is Royce Brannigan: stranded selkie from the highlands of Scotland and trusted private investigator within the supernatural world.
“Shaken or stirred?” I ask Royce as I slip into the empty swivel barstool beside him.
Royce spins his seat to face me. His blue eyes dance with amusement as he takes in my costume with a single glance. His full lips curve into an appreciative smile.
“I didn’t realize we would be role playin’ tonight,” he says with his slight Scottish accent. The smile he was trying to suppress fully shows itself on his ruggedly handsome face. “Should I have dressed up like Batman?”
“Don’t be cheeky, Royce,” I say, lifting my hand to grab the attention of the bartender currently serving a customer at the opposite end of the bar. She sees me and walks over to take my order for a tequila sunrise. Once that’s done, I return my attention to the business at hand. “What information do you have for me?”
Royce crosses his arms over his muscular chest as he considers me. “Why is it that every time we meet up, it’s always business with you, Eve?”
“Because you charge me by the hour,” I tell him, earning a small chuckle from Royce. “The sooner you tell me what you’ve been able to discover about my father, the sooner you’ll be off the clock.”
Royce leans forward. “What if I waived my fee tonight?” His tone is warm and suggestive as he watches my reaction for any signs of interest. “Would that make you less anxious to rush this conversation along?”
My head tilts of its own accord as I seriously consider his offer. “Did I just hear you say you would waive your fee? Are you feeling all right, Royce? You’re not about to die on me, are you?”
“I’ve been working for you for over a year now, and I don’t feel like I know you at all, Eve,” he says, looking slightly peeved by my aloofness. “Every time we meet, you hear the information I’ve been able to gather, and then you leave.”
“I don’t mix business with pleasure,” I tell him as the bartender places my drink in front of me. “Don’t take it personally, Royce. It’s just the way I am. Now, what have you been able to discover about my father? I don’t suppose you have a name for him yet, do you?”
“No,” he says, sounding as disappointed as I feel by his answer. “I don’t have a name, but I did meet someone who told me to tell you to stop lookin’ for him.”
I sit up straighter after hearing this bit of new information.
“Who was this person?” I ask as my heart races. For the past year, Royce's updates on the whereabouts and identity of my father have all been filled with disappointing leads that led to nowhere. This is the first time he's told me anything worth his exorbitant fee.
“I’m still looking into that,” he says, “but it’s proof that I’m getting closer to finding out who your father is.”
“Tell me everything.” To say I’m excited about this new piece of evidence is the understatement of the century. “Where were you? What did this person look like? What clues have you been following recently?”
Royce drains the rest of his martini before answering my questions.
“I was in Ireland, following a lead from a fairy who said she attended the same party your mother did when she had her one-night stand with your father,” he begins.
“Did she describe what he looked like?” I lean even closer to Royce, eager to hear his answer.
“It wasn’t the most detailed description,” he warns before I get my hopes too high. “All she said was that he was tall and handsome with green eyes and red hair.”
I slump back in my chair with a sigh of disappointment. I already knew all of that. His red hair and green eyes are two of the things I know I inherited from him.
“Why did that description send you to Ireland?” I ask, hoping to learn something I don’t know.
“She also told me that your father had a Dara Knot on the side of his neck.”
“How is that helpful? Lots of people have them tattooed on their bodies.”
“His was branded into his skin,” Royce says. “And the woman told me she had never seen one as intricately designed as his. She was able to draw it for me too. That lead sent me to Ireland. I was planning to speak to the chief druid there to see if he might have some information about it.”