Bloodlust by Helen Harper Page B

Idiot.

 
    Chapter Nine
     
    Standing in the cool night air outside the nondescript door to Circle, I felt incredibly uncomfortable. I picked at my clothes, grumbling to Solus. “I can’t believe I let you persuade me into this stupid get-up.”
    “Dragonlette, you look gorgeous. And besides, if you want to fit in, this is what you need to do. You won’t have any hope of getting close to Tarn unless you pique his interest. This outfit will certainly do that.”
    I stared down at myself. I looked like some kind of S & M dominatrix, clad as I was in a shiny lacquered skin-tight jumpsuit. A studded belt was cinching in my waist, and the top half was designed to be like a corset, laced together and pushing up my breasts to create an alarmingly overt cleavage. To make matters even worse, I had on knee high stiletto boots. Given my predilection for being entirely unable to wear high heels of any kind and not fall over, it didn’t bode well. The very snug fit of the outfit also meant that there was nowhere I could conceal a weapon. I tried to experiment with shoving the daggers into my boots, but the leather outlined them in such a way that their presence was too obviously advertised to get away with. Solus had convinced me that I wouldn’t get inside if I had any form of weaponry on me, so I’d grudgingly left them behind, figuring that I had other tools at my disposal should they be so required.
    The Fae had kindly ministered to my swollen eye, helping along the healing process so that at least it was starting to re-open somewhat, improving my vision. He’d been able to do little about the bruise itself, however, so the overall effect when coupled with the outfit was, well, striking. Solus had insisted I leave my hair down and I kept fidgeting with it while we waited for the door to open.
    “Stop that,” he hissed at me, as a small section of the door was drawn back and the unmistakable features of an ogre scowled out at us.
    “Whaddyawant?”
    Solus swept a dramatic bow. “Lord Sol Apollinarius, and companion, requesting admission.”
    The ogre grimaced at him, then looked at me. “No humans allowed,” he grunted.
    “I’m not human,” I said, calmly.
    “She’s a shifter,” Solus interjected. “A were-hamster.”
    The ogre stared at me unfathomably, then snapped the little wooden portal shut. The sound of several locks being undone reached my ears, and the door swung open. Licking my lips somewhat nervously and concentrating on not falling over as a result of my ridiculous footwear, I stepped over the threshold. Almost immediately, loud thumping music filled the space at a level of decibels enough to make me frankly astonished the sound hadn’t been audible on the street.
    “It’s a spell,” Solus murmured.
    “Huh?”
    “Tarn has a few pet mages. He uses them to cast useful spells. Such as masking the sounds of what goes in here to anyone outside.”
    “And the Ministry is okay with that?”
    “They’re not exactly Ministry mandated mages.”
    Interesting. This Unseelie Fae had more power than I thought if he kept a couple of rogue wizards in his back pocket. I had firsthand experience of how the Ministry felt about anyone using magic outside of their fold. I wondered just how much Solus had to do with members of the Winter King’s court. It was a world I’d never really come into contact with, and I had to admit that my knowledge about it was rather scanty. But with the ogre continuing to hover next to us, this wasn’t really the time to ask. Solus delved into his pocket and I heard the distinct chink of coins, which he then passed over to the bouncer before I could see just how much this little excursion was costing him.
    “I’ve crossed your palm with gold,” Solus commented cheerfully. “Now let us in.”
    The ogre grunted, then gestured Solus towards another closed door with a distinct curl to his rather large, wrinkled and protruding lip. The Fae led the way, opening the door with a