CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
My two companions drew their phones out faster than gunslingers in Western movies. Lawrence had his to his ear faster, and Ted snapped pictures.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Collecting evidence."
I arched an eyebrow, wrapping myself in haughty Fae attitude so I wouldn't scream, cry, throw up, or otherwise show any sign of weakness. How had I managed to keep a low profile for almost three hundred years and now be the target of a dark Fae predator?
"All right," Ted admitted. "Getting pictures for a story."
Rae walked out, and his reaction surprised me. He looked at the dead bouncer with wide eyes behind his lightly tinted lenses, and his mouth made enough of an o that I saw his fangs for the first time.
"You have an interesting way of taking care of things," I said
