“So, it’s the eyes?” Kalix muses, rubbing his chin as he processes the information.
“It’s always the eyes—and their obedience,” Millicent confirms. “They can tell who’s under by the way they look at you. They prefer men, but Iris and I will still be targets. Would be lovely to have my collar off.”
She tosses Felix a sweet, pleading smile.
The bastard in me bristles. I’m the one who positioned the damn collar. She should be beggingme.
“What a—" Felix draws out the words dramatically, “horrible idea! Millie, my sweet gumdrop princess, a manipulator is going to try to compel you and you’re going to obliterate them—losing a lead we spent weeks tracking down! And, restraintisn’texactly your strong suit.”
Millicent rolls her eyes so hard that I’m half convinced they’ll stay that way. “Fine. I’ll carve the bitches instead and make coats out of their skin. My magic would make the kills cleaner, but if you want me to go full barbarian, I can accommodate.”
“That…that is not—" Felix groans, pressing two fingers to his temple like the headache is already blooming.
Kalix chuckles while Iris covers her mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. Millicent, of course, is dead serious.
“Down, girl. The goal is not to cause friction,” I remind her and everyone in the room.
“Do we know what the coven members look like? We could transfigure into them,” Kalix suggests.
Gods. I already had to be Felix once. His body felt too loose, like wearing an ill-fitted coat. I would prefer never to turn into someone else again. However, the biggest problem is imaginingwho you wish to turn into, and we have never seen one of these Manipulators.
“No,” I say. “We only know of their suspected involvement by reputation. The witches haven’t been identified or confirmed.”
“You all get to go to a sin house and I have to stay back?” Felix whines from across the room. “What kind of kingly treatment is this?”
Of course he wants in. The establishment we’re targeting is practically his personal heaven—alcohol, women, and gambling all in one depraved bundle.
“Felix, you’d be the first one either compelled or drunk. So, no—you stay here.” Iris shoots him a pointed look.
“Does the covenownThe Viscountess?” Millicent asks.
“Papers and pockets lead to one of the lords running it. He’s not under compulsion, interestingly enough.” Kalix slides the deed across the table toward her.
We need to speak with a manipulator witch. Covens’ general locations in the kingdom are vaguely known. The closest manipulator coven is quite far, and going to a coven is dangerous. There will be a very high concentration of manipulator witches and their minions there. They are not as mild tempered as curse users are. Our best bet is to try to find a smaller group of them.
Our informants discovered some working at The Viscountess. I believe the witch and lord have a deal and they help one another out. She can make anyone do anything for the lord and he can line her pockets with coins and help feed her cozy lifestyle.
There will still be a head witch, one who is like an elder. Witches always hold their hierarchies. This is the one we will try to target for questioning as calmly as possible. Causing a fight at one of the most profitable sin houses is going to cause Tyran grief with the higher society folks.
“Kalix, you poisoned me. Whatelsecan you do?” Millicent mutters, dry as bone.
Between the six of us, a plan forms. One that helps us remain under the radar and sets us up to gather intel in the most passive way. Thankfully, it is also a plan that does not involve me turning into Felix Tyran.
The plan is wobbly at best—but right now, it’s all we’ve got.
KALIX IS ABNORMALLY TENSE AS we escort the girls toward The Viscountess. Iris’s gown barely counts as clothing, the deep plunge revealing most of her breasts, and the high slits bare her the length of legs as she walks. Hers are crimson. Millicent’s, in contrast, are a midnight blue—similar in form and equally dangerous.
Relax. You look like you’re about to murder someone,I speak directly into Kalix's mind.
I just might, if anyone lays a single finger on Iris. I hate this plan. I hate how much skin she’s showing.
His emotions surge through the tether between us like a possessive and primal suffocating roar.
Please spare me your fantasy of claiming her. I don’t need a visual of your hard-on.
Then get out of my head, mage.
Someone is grumpy,I think privately, leaving him to simmer in that attitude of his. Gods, it’s going to be a long night if Kalix is this wound up. I’ll be babysitting his murderous instincts while keeping in check the loose screws in Millicent’s head.
