I took mine. “Thank you.”
“But of course.” She drifted toward the back of the shop. “Look around, but in the meantime, I’m going to gather a few pieces I think might suit you.”
“Thanks.” I sipped the champagne, enjoying the burst of bubbles and flavor. “This is a bit different from the secondhand shops where I normally go.”
“Same.” Mac gulped her champagne. “But I could get used to it.”
Me too. Cordelia nimbly climbed onto a padded bench, her glass clutched in one hand. I love a good fashion show.
I looked around, wondering if anyone else was watching the raccoon. I’d grown used to her antics, but this was over the top.
Neither Mac nor the proprietress was paying attention, as if Cordelia were a totally normal part of life. Apparently here, she was.
I shrugged and turned to the shop, entranced by the beautiful fabrics. I liked my uniform of denim and leather, but I had to admit, I didn’t hate the idea of a pretty, sparkly dress. I’d probably have worn them more often if I had any money or a place to go.
In the back of the shop, the Fae proprietress moved quickly through the racks, flicking her hands and making dresses rise of their own accord. Her magic smelled of flowers and tasted like honey.
“Her magic feels lovely,” I murmured.
“You can feel it?” Mac asked.
I nodded. “Can’t you?”
“No. She’s got it locked down tight, like all of us do.”
“Really?”
“Really. But you can sense it?”
“I can.”
Mac whistled low. “That’s something special. You must be very powerful if you can sense the magic people are trying to hide.”
“I don’t think I could do it before.”
She turned to me, eyes widening. “Really? You think you’re changing?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Well, keep tabs on that. It’s unusual.”
I nodded, watching the woman choose more dresses. Her beauty was so ethereal. Eerie, almost. It dredged up a memory of the two Fae women I’d seen walking toward the necromancer’s horrible ceremony last week.
“What’s on your mind?” Mac whispered. “You look like you ate a bad apple.”
“I was just thinking about the Fae women who were involved in the necromancer’s creepy ceremony.”
“They’re locked up now.”
“Yeah, but they didn’t look evil, and neither does she. There wickedness wasn’t obvious.”
“It never is.”
“But it means there could be people in Guild City who are involved in terrible things.”
“Just like in the human world.”
“Good point.” I’d seen some awful stuff, but it seemed worse when you added something like death magic to the mix.
The dresses flew closer, floating through the air like glittering, silky ghosts to swirl around us. The proprietress came back and smiled. “I think these would suit either of you very nicely.”
I couldn’t decide which of the four circling me I liked best, the sparkly gold, the silky white, the gleaming pink, or the velvet blue.
“Where is the dressing room?” I asked.
“Dressing room?” The woman frowned, though she still somehow looked impossibly beautiful.
“She’s not from around here.” Mac looked at me. “Just pick one.”
“Um…the gold one.”
The Fae flicked her hand in a complicated movement, her magic flaring brightly. A moment later, I wore the dress, my champagne glass still in my hand.
“Ohhhh, nice!” Mac said.
I looked down, surprised. “That was amazing.”
“One of the many perks of magic,” Mac said.
“No kidding.” It wasn’t like I got to shop much, but I hated the trying-on process.
A mirror appeared in front of us, and I admired myself. “I look good.”
“You’re going to look even better,” the Fae said.
I think you’re perfect just the way you are.
I turned back to Cordelia. The raccoon had become a little kiss arse since I’d bought her a kebab from the place below my flat. “I know what you’re doing.”
She smiled innocently, the empty champagne glass clutched in front of her.
We tried on the rest of the dresses in no time flat. I ended up deciding on the gold one, while Mac got a silver number that made her look amazing.
“And what will you be wearing this for?” the Fae asked.
Mac pointed to me. “She’s the one who needs the works.”
“The works?” I was still wearing the gold dress, since I’d be going straight to La Papillon in it.
The Fae woman smiled. “Will you be on an assassin job? Intelligence gathering? A robbery?”
“Whoa, what?”
“She’s going to enchant your dress, dummy.” Mac nudged me. “Tell her what you’re doing. Not all the details, of course.”
“There’s confidentiality within these walls.” The Fae leaned forward with a gleam in her eye.
I believed her. Not enough to tell her everything, though. “I’m going to a posh bar to find out information.”
“Ooh.” She tapped her chin. “Reconnaissance. Fun!”
She walked around me, humming to herself as she thought. Then she tapped my arm, and magic shot through the fabric, warming my skin.
“You can now have the strength of a heavyweight fighter,” she said. “Two or three punches before the magic wears out, in case you get in a bad spot and need to slug your way out.”
I inspected my arm. “Wow, thanks.”
She tapped my back, and the entire dress warmed. “And now you’ll be forgettable. Not during your encounters, mind you. You’ll still be able to charm others into giving you information. But as soon as you walk away, it will be difficult for them to remember your face.”
“That’s amazing.” My mind raced. “Can I be extra fast?”
“I can give you a bit of speed. Perhaps a couple other things.”
“Give me the works, then. No expense spared.” I pointed to Mac. “Her, too.”
The Fae tapped me once again, and this time the magic was slightly chilly. She did Mac next, giving her similar enchantments. I wasn’t sure what Mac would do with her dress, but hopefully, she’d tell me the details later.
“Now, shoes!” The Fae woman moved to the back, and we followed.
She kitted us out with stilettos that felt like trainers and could make us graceful and agile, then moved on to jewelry, including a bangle that turned into blade and a pendant necklace that could hold hidden charms.
Makeup and hair came next at a little salon next door, and when we were done, we looked like a million quid and could charge that much on the black market as spies.
“Well, that was amazing,” Mac said as we stepped out onto the street.
It was finally dark, and neither of us looked too out of place in our fabulous ensembles. The Devil waited for us, leaning against a tree in an impeccable slim-cut tuxedo that made him look like a posh killing machine. He was impossibly handsome with his dark hair and slate eyes. They seemed to heat when he looked at me, and I was reminded of the fire banked deep inside him.