The Kiss & The Killer (Faery Bargains Book 2) by Melissa Marr

Author:Melissa Marr [Marr, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-11T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Eli’s bar wasn’t closer than his place or my place, but I was grateful for the shared territory just then. I felt emotional after dealing with Tres—and with the police.

“Boss. Crowe.” The doorman of the day greeted as we approached Bill’s Tavern. “Everything good?”

“Indeed,” Eli said, doing one of those weird man-speak things that I couldn’t replicate even if I tried.

Today’s doorman, whose name was Luc or something, gave Eli a commiserating look in response to whatever silent gesture or minor tone men used to communicate in their terse way, and I suddenly wanted to smack someone. I was not responsible—as far as I knew—for the stress that Luc had noticed.

“All good here?” Eli asked.

“A few tourists needed poured into cabs last night after you left.” Luc shrugged. “No fights. No low liquor that needs your sign off as far as I heard.”

“Dead?”

“Not last night,” Luc glanced at me. “Seems like they heard the sheriff here was your lady.”

I rolled my eyes, but the reality was that it was Beatrice not me that kept all the little dead darlings from bothering Bill’s Tavern. Again-walkers were increasingly obedient to her, and I was starting to hope for a future where the face-gnawing dead were all contained.

Of course, Christophe Hebert was missing from his grave, Tres Chaddock had been one of several people injected with venom. They were made into again-walkers by human intervention—and I couldn’t fathom where the humans even got the venom. Was there a giant terrarium where the dead were milked like serpents for their venom? I had questions and no idea how to investigate.

While I was pondering, Luc and Eli finished their chat and, in whatever man-code they used, they were done. Luc opened the door, and Eli tossed him the car keys. The whole thing was seamless, efficient, and infuriating. I couldn’t blame it on species differences. Luc was human. It was just man-code.

Mutely, I followed Eli to his office. He unlocked the door and motioned me inside the room. It was a sort of understated posh that was a part of the persona Eli had in this world. Just a guy who ran a bar in a boozy city. Nothing to see here. Move along. Functional wooden desk, functional leather chair. If the buttons were stone and the desk had a stone inlay, it was not odd. Pretty and simple. Plants cluttered the window and the–wooden again—file cabinet. Cut glass decanter and highball glasses. The rug, woven bamboo, was plain. In all it was a minimalistic, personality-free office . . . unless you knew that Eli was not half-fae as people assumed. He was the real thing, and nature grounded him as death grounded me.

The door shut with a snick.

And I turned, expecting to find him ready to yell at me. Instead, he had me shoved against his desk.

“Trousers,” he muttered.

My suit trousers were fastened with an iron button. I could pretend that my assistant had no idea, but the woman had literally locked him out of my pants.

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