supplies.
An utterly unpleasant idea occurred to Corny. He had to fight not to smile.
“The thing is,” he said, “that’s not how human guys dress at all. It’s not sloppy enough. Roiben always makes the same mistake.”
The fey man’s lip curled slightly, and Corny tried to keep his face blank, as though he had missed that rather interesting tell.
“Look at yourself. Fix your glamour so that you look more like you’re wearing what I’m wearing, okay?”
The faery looked Corny over. “Repugnant,” he said, but unshouldered his messenger bag, leaning it against the wall.
Corny grabbed the can of Raid off the shelf. If Kaye couldn’t even have a cigarette anymore, the effects of a concentrated insect poison should be impressive. He didn’t need to speculate long. As the faery turned, Corny sprayed him full in the face.
The blond choked and fell immediately to his knees, glamour dropping from him, revealing dreadful, inhuman beauty. Corny reveled for a moment in the look of him convulsing on the filthy floor, then he pulled the lace out of his sneaker and used it to tie the creature’s hands behind its back.
The faery squirmed as the knots went tight, trying to twist away as he coughed. Corny scrambled for the can and hit the faery with it as hard as he could.
“I swear to fucking God, I will spray you again,” Corny said. “Enough of this shit will kill you.”
The faery went still. Corny stood up, straddling the faery’s body, fingering the nozzle on the Raid can. He caught his own gaze in the mirror, saw his short dyed dark hair and his borrowed clothes, how pathetic they were. They didn’t make his skin any less spotty or his nose smaller or him any less ugly.
Thin, strong fingers wound around Corny’s calves, but Corny pressed the sole of his sneaker against the faery’s neck and squatted down over him. “Now you’re going to tell me a whole bunch of things I’ve always wanted to know.”
The creature swallowed.
“Your name,” Corny said.
The blue eyes flashed. “Never.”
Corny shrugged and slid his foot off of the faery, suddenly uncomfortable. “Fine. Something I can call you, then. And not some stupid ‘me myself’ bullshit. I read.”
“Adair.”
Corny paused, thinking of the paper in the drawer. “Are you the Fixer? Did you slip Kaye a note?”
The man looked puzzled, then shook his head. “He’s a human, like you.”
“Okay. Adair, if you’re not the Fixer, what do you want with Kaye?”
The faery was silent for a long moment. Corny slammed the can into the side of the creature’s head.
“Who told you to come here?”
Adair shrugged and Corny hit him again. Blood stained his mouth.
“Silarial,” he gasped.
Corny nodded with satisfaction. He was breathing hard, but each breath came out like a laugh. “Why?”
“The pixie. I’m to take her to the Seelie Court. Many of my Lady’s subjects are seeking her out.”
Corny sat down on Adair’s stomach and fisted his hand in the golden hair. “Why?”
“Queen wants to talk. Just talk.”
A man with a fauxhawk opened the door, blanched, and then shut it with a slam. The faery twisted himself around, pushing upright.
“Tell me something else,” Corny said. His clenched fingers shook. “Tell me how to protect—”
At that moment the bathroom door swung open again. This time it was Kaye. “Corny, they’re—,” she said, then seemed to focus on the scene in front of her. She blinked her eyes rapidly and coughed. “This is so not what I expected to see when I walked in here.”
“Silarial sent him,” Corny said. “For you.”
“The bartender’s calling the cops. We have to get out of here.”
“We can’t let him go,” Corny said.
“Corny, he’s bleeding. ” Kaye coughed again. “What did you do? I feel like my lungs are on fire.”
Corny started to stand, to explain.
“I curse you.” The faery rolled onto his side and spat a reddish gob of spittle onto Corny’s cheek. It ran
An utterly unpleasant idea occurred to Corny. He had to fight not to smile.
“The thing is,” he said, “that’s not how human guys dress at all. It’s not sloppy enough. Roiben always makes the same mistake.”
The fey man’s lip curled slightly, and Corny tried to keep his face blank, as though he had missed that rather interesting tell.
“Look at yourself. Fix your glamour so that you look more like you’re wearing what I’m wearing, okay?”
The faery looked Corny over. “Repugnant,” he said, but unshouldered his messenger bag, leaning it against the wall.
Corny grabbed the can of Raid off the shelf. If Kaye couldn’t even have a cigarette anymore, the effects of a concentrated insect poison should be impressive. He didn’t need to speculate long. As the faery turned, Corny sprayed him full in the face.
The blond choked and fell immediately to his knees, glamour dropping from him, revealing dreadful, inhuman beauty. Corny reveled for a moment in the look of him convulsing on the filthy floor, then he pulled the lace out of his sneaker and used it to tie the creature’s hands behind its back.
The faery squirmed as the knots went tight, trying to twist away as he coughed. Corny scrambled for the can and hit the faery with it as hard as he could.
“I swear to fucking God, I will spray you again,” Corny said. “Enough of this shit will kill you.”
The faery went still. Corny stood up, straddling the faery’s body, fingering the nozzle on the Raid can. He caught his own gaze in the mirror, saw his short dyed dark hair and his borrowed clothes, how pathetic they were. They didn’t make his skin any less spotty or his nose smaller or him any less ugly.
Thin, strong fingers wound around Corny’s calves, but Corny pressed the sole of his sneaker against the faery’s neck and squatted down over him. “Now you’re going to tell me a whole bunch of things I’ve always wanted to know.”
The creature swallowed.
“Your name,” Corny said.
The blue eyes flashed. “Never.”
Corny shrugged and slid his foot off of the faery, suddenly uncomfortable. “Fine. Something I can call you, then. And not some stupid ‘me myself’ bullshit. I read.”
“Adair.”
Corny paused, thinking of the paper in the drawer. “Are you the Fixer? Did you slip Kaye a note?”
The man looked puzzled, then shook his head. “He’s a human, like you.”
“Okay. Adair, if you’re not the Fixer, what do you want with Kaye?”
The faery was silent for a long moment. Corny slammed the can into the side of the creature’s head.
“Who told you to come here?”
Adair shrugged and Corny hit him again. Blood stained his mouth.
“Silarial,” he gasped.
Corny nodded with satisfaction. He was breathing hard, but each breath came out like a laugh. “Why?”
“The pixie. I’m to take her to the Seelie Court. Many of my Lady’s subjects are seeking her out.”
Corny sat down on Adair’s stomach and fisted his hand in the golden hair. “Why?”
“Queen wants to talk. Just talk.”
A man with a fauxhawk opened the door, blanched, and then shut it with a slam. The faery twisted himself around, pushing upright.
“Tell me something else,” Corny said. His clenched fingers shook. “Tell me how to protect—”
At that moment the bathroom door swung open again. This time it was Kaye. “Corny, they’re—,” she said, then seemed to focus on the scene in front of her. She blinked her eyes rapidly and coughed. “This is so not what I expected to see when I walked in here.”
“Silarial sent him,” Corny said. “For you.”
“The bartender’s calling the cops. We have to get out of here.”
“We can’t let him go,” Corny said.
“Corny, he’s bleeding. ” Kaye coughed again. “What did you do? I feel like my lungs are on fire.”
Corny started to stand, to explain.
“I curse you.” The faery rolled onto his side and spat a reddish gob of spittle onto Corny’s cheek. It ran
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