THE MORRIGAN CHRONICLES
Chapter 11

I SLID ON the black high-heeled boots over the equally black jeans I’d brought. Surprisingly, I didn’t mind the heels. They took a bit of getting used to but I imagine that in a fight they could take out an eye or stab well if need be. I wouldn’t want to run far in them, but they could be a weapon if I had nothing else.

Not having paid much attention to the current fashion I pulled a black t-shirt over my head. Surely all black was acceptable. Now I only had to work on my hair and face. I stared at myself in the mirror for ten minutes.

Another ten went by.

“Emrys!” I shouted.

He opened the bathroom door, startled, his hands readied as he looked around for the danger. Not seeing any, his looked puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know how to put on makeup and I want to try.” I had the counter scattered with everything I had bought the day before.

“By the Creator, Morrigan. You scared me half to death. Ask Aiden. He’s the pretty one in the bunch. But I warn you, he makes a prettier girl than you.”

“You know I can hear you,” Aiden growled.

Emrys just winked at me. Any tension from earlier was gone.

“My dear, I have no idea how to put on makeup. But here.” He snapped his fingers.

Looking into the mirror I gasped. I looked like a damn drag queen. He laughed and laughed some more. Then he cried from laughing. I stood staring at him with one side of my mouth raised in a smirk as my eyes cut into him. Most men bent at that look. He laughed harder.

“You can’t scare me, looking like that.” He gasped for air.

“Okay you’ve had your fun. Take it off.” I still hadn’t found amusement in any of this.

With a snap of his fingers I was back to normal. And that was how I would stay.

“Want some help with your hair?”

“No, I’ll wear it down. I fear if I ask for your help you’ll have it shaped into a swan on my head,” I said as I walked out of the bathroom to Daur.

“Daur, you can’t go looking like that. You’ll make the vampires and werewolves think an ogre has come into their bar and blow our cover,” Aiden said, in all seriousness.

Daur had on blue jeans and the biggest canary yellow t-shirt man has ever made that said, ‘I Need A Nap.’ His hair was disheveled as always and I didn’t recall him having bathed since we arrived in New Orleans. That was the Daur I knew.

“Oh, I think you look rather dashing,” I gushed as I pulled at his beard and we headed out the door.

We crossed the street, entering the iron gates. As we strode through the courtyard to the bar, and out of the sight of our friends, I flicked my wrist, throwing my hair up into a braided bun.

Daur raised an eyebrow and stopped. Only in movies do people go into battle wearing loose clothing such as capes and long flowing hair. That would surely be a death sentence. An enemy would love to grab your hair with one hand while taking your head with the other.

“I have two knives stashed in each boot. Two for me and two for you.” I winked.

His mad eyes widened even more than normal. “Love, you have four knives for yourself.” He lifted his jeans exposing his biker boots. “Got me own knives. I know you were just trying to get me away from the group to have your way with me but I’ll have none of that. I came to do a job.” He laughed at his own joke. “But I figured when you said we were going tonight that you might have a little different definition of ‘observing’ than them.”

His massive hand slapped my back, jarring me forward, spitting as he laughed. I just shook my head. Crazy bugger. I adored him.

The bar was already packed when we entered. Being with a man that towered at seven foot, inconspicuous was not really an option. The good part of that is that when Daur rambled up to a table with four college students and asked if we could join them; they said sure, and promptly got up and left the table to us. Well done, Daur.

“I was friendly was I not?” he asked in all sincerity.

“You were. But even a human can tell you’re a predator.” I had no underlying meanings in what I said and he tilted his head to the side lifting his eyebrows in understanding.

Quickly shifting the subject he dropped his madness for a serious tone. “You’re in love with Neil, aren’t you?”

Unlike King Conall or Emrys, Daur was asking me only as a friend.

He had no patience for strategy or artifice. No agenda to his question.

“I am,” I replied, resigned.

“Good lad.” He nodded a firm affirmation of approval. And that was that.

We watched the bartenders—three vampires and two werewolves. Ten servers, all vampires, worked the tables. Three other werewolves were spread throughout the bar, milling about. A vampire sat at the back booth with a werewolf. Three werewolves acted as bodyguards. This was the first time that had happened.

Daur looked like he’d just won the lottery. The music was loud enough that we couldn’t hear the vampire or werewolf in the booth. The good news was that they probably couldn’t hear us either. At least I hoped their hearing wasn’t better than ours.

Daur leaned close to my ear. “You gotta plan?”

“Working on it,” I said, with absolutely no plan forming in my head.

The waitress came by to deliver our third round of beers. I thanked her and tipped generously as I had every round and asked in a high-pitched girlish voice, “So are those guys back there like the owners or something?”

The vampire glanced at the booth and back at me. I could tell she was evaluating me. The beat of my heart, the way I smelled, the way I sat. I tried to look as innocent as possible. Daur couldn’t help but look like a serial killer. “Something like that.” Then she was off.

I glared at Daur knowing he was why I got such a short reply. He smiled, knowing as well, and took a large swig of his beer.

“Well we aren’t getting any information this way,” I said.

“Bar fight?” Daur said eagerly.

“No!” I squished his hopes. “We need to question someone. But we know who their leaders are now.”

I slowly scanned the bar, picking my prey. My eyes stopped on the male vampire bartender. “Him.”