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“You seem surprised by my appearance. Have you never met a troll before?”
“I thought the two groups lived separately. I didn’t realize you ever cohabitated.” From what I’d learned, the trolls lived in family units that didn’t mix and mingle. The one trait they shared aside from living underground was their avoidance of the human population.
“It’s an unusual arrangement, I admit, but it works out well for all of us, and where better to embrace a mixed population than Fairhaven?” She produced a single page and a pen. “The NDA is very basic, but we find discretion necessary in order to preserve the quality of our clientele.”
I glanced over the terms and signed. “Did the crossroads bring you here?”
Her head dipped in acknowledgment as she tossed the contract on her desk. “Many years ago.”
“How long have you been operating an illegal speakeasy?”
“Oh, we’re far more than a speakeasy, my lovely. Madame Thea caters to many vices.” Her smile was endearingly crooked. “We’re even more of an illicit playground than the one topside.”
“How many rooms do you have down here?”
“How many did you see?”
“Three, aside from your office. Gambling, alcohol, and… Cynthia.” Greed, gluttony, and lust.
“We also have a room for axe throwing,” she said.
Anger. “Borrowed that idea from human hipsters, did you?”
“Ours is a bit more suited to the clientele.”
I was almost afraid to ask, but I did anyway. “How so?”
“Instead of a traditional target, we offer a willing tribute. And we light the weapon on fire, should the participant request it. Of course, the flames cost extra.”
She sounded so nonchalant; I was certain I’d misheard the answer. “Let me get this straight. Did you just say you allow guests to hurl sharp, flaming objects at other living creatures for fun?”
She offered a partial shrug. “The targets are volunteers. Not to worry, they sign a waiver. Some find the danger heightens the appeal. Who are we to judge?”
I dropped my voice to a whisper. “How many have died?”
“Did I forget to mention the small print? You can only volunteer if your species falls under Category I.”
“Category I?”
“Immortals. Vampires seem particularly keen to sign up. They enjoy taunting the throwers.”
I had to admit, I could see the potential for entertainment there. “What else?”
“The glamour room. We help our guests look and feel their best.”
Pride. “You employ more than trolls then.”
“I’ve never met a troll that could conjure a glamour, have you? So, Miss Clay…” A smile danced upon her thin lips. “I’d ask which rooms you might be interested in, but I sense far too much virtue in you to bother. In my experience, virtues and vices can’t coexist, at least not in such a small space, which is why I only focus on the more lucrative of the two.”
“You sense my virtue?” Most supernaturals sensed my darkness, even if they didn’t understand what they felt or why they felt it.
“Oh, please. You radiate goodness. It’s like staring into the chubby face of a newborn.” She stuck out her tongue, seemingly disgusted.
“I mean, I wouldn’t mind hurling a few axes at vampires, but I’m here to share information, not to partake. Presumably you heard what I told your bouncers about the Wild Hunt.”
“I did, indeed. How incredible.” Despite the words, her tone was flat.
“You don’t seem concerned.”
