Last Wish (Highland Magic #4)(32)

‘Amen to that,’ she murmured. ‘Well, good luck to you. Someone will come out soon and tell you when it’s time.’ She smiled slightly. ‘Don’t get hurt.’ With that, she whirled round and took off into the night.

I grinned. That was easier than I thought.

There was a flash of light and Bob appeared, two points of colour high on his cheeks. He was absolutely furious. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing, Uh Integrity? This is not part of the plan! I thought you were going to hide in the corner and watch him. Do this and you’ll get caught and everything we’ve done up to now will have been a complete waste.’ He threw up his hands. ‘If you want your revenge on Byron so badly then ask for your last wish. I’ll do what I can to minimise the damage. But you can’t throw everything away because you’re feeling hurt that he’s moved on.’

I was touched by his concern. ‘Chill, Bob. I’m not going to get caught. And I’m not looking for revenge.’

‘Then what are you after?’ he demanded.

The truth was that I wasn’t entirely sure. The glimpse I’d caught of him back at the Cruaich had started up a strange, yearning itch, one that I’d never be able to scratch again. Maybe this was my last chance to get my kicks with Byron before all hell broke loose. Maybe I thought I could find out what he and his father were up to. Or maybe I was just a fool. I suspected it was the latter but it didn’t matter now; I was set on my course.

‘Never mind,’ I said dismissively. ‘But if I can use Illusion to pretend to be Aifric and get away with it—’

‘Almost get away with it.’

‘Then,’ I continued, ignoring his interruption, ‘I can use it to pretend to be that woman.’

He stared at me. ‘You’re going to pretend to be a stripper? Do you even know how to strip?’

‘Ha!’ I scoffed. ‘It’s taking your clothes off, Bob. I do that every single day.’

I concentrated, pulling out the magic and telling myself to mimic every part of the stripper, seen and unseen, until I was transformed. It couldn’t just be coincidence that I’d ended up with more Illusion than any other Gift. This was meant to be.

I examined myself. Instead of my usual pale, milk-bottle skin, I had an all-over tan. I whistled. Damn, I looked good. I checked underneath the coat. Hmm. I was also dressed as a policewoman as the stripper had been. Talk about stereotypes. I glanced at the mask she’d given me and, deciding the Illusion was more than good enough, discarded it.

I gave Bob a twirl. He huffed and looked away. ‘Stay out here,’ I told him. ‘It’ll be safer for you that way.’

‘Don’t come crying to me when you end up in a real grave instead of an imaginary one.’

‘Everything will be fine.’

He sniffed loudly and vanished just as the back door opened and a rush of noise greeted my ears. A face peered out. ‘Chardonnay? Is that you? Are you ready?’

Chardonnay? Good grief. I smiled and nodded. At least my voice would be less of a concern this time around. I pitched my tone slightly higher to match the real Chardonnay’s. ‘Who am I looking for?’

‘You don’t know? The stag is Byron Moncrieffe.’ He said it as if there should be a drum roll.

‘Oh.’ I tried to look impressed and I felt the Illusion ripple to mimic the thought. ‘Okay, then.’

He looked me up and down sleazily. ‘He’s a lucky boy.’

Yeah, yeah. I smiled daintily and dropped a curtsey. ‘Then let’s get this show on the road.’

I followed the man inside, past cardboard boxes filled with pork scratchings and crisps which made my stomach grumble loudly. He turned and frowned at me. I giggled. ‘I’ve not eaten yet,’ I said. ‘I find I’ve got more of an edge on an empty stomach.’

He waggled his eyebrows. ‘Well,’ he said in a voice that was more of a growl than a purr, ‘I can fill you up when you’ve finished with those Sidhe.’

I tried – and probably failed – not to look nauseated.

He gestured at me to wait behind the door. I took off my coat, and he smirked at my police outfit then popped his head out front to check that everything was ready. All of a sudden, I felt the tumble of butterflies in my belly overtaking my pangs of hunger. Bob was right: this was a mistake. All I was doing was torturing myself.

I took a step backwards, ready to run away, but the man wasn’t having any of it. When he saw me hesitate, he shoved me onto the main club floor. Shite. I couldn’t change my mind now.

The music, which had been pumping out a loud staccato beat, abruptly faltered. I strode into the centre of the floor as at least forty pairs of eyes turned in my direction. Licking my dry lips, I lifted my chin – and almost had a mini heart attack when I saw that Aifric was here after all. I reasoned that he’d have no reason to suspect that the Illusion ruse from earlier was being carried on here but all the same, I was suddenly more terrified than before.

Forcing myself to play the game, I completed a slow half turn. Byron was looking distinctly ill at ease in a chair in front of me. I cleared my throat. How was this supposed to go?

‘Er… You’re all making too much noise,’ I said.

A chorus of jeers immediately answered me. I scowled and raised my hand. ‘The borough of Perth takes noise pollution very seriously.’