Downtown Portland was home to many different establishments from eateries, bars, parlors, all manner of stores, and its fair share of clubs. Both catering to the mundane and the para side of the city. One club, in particular, was far more lively than it had ever been.

The Vixen’s Fangs was a popular spot for the city’s fae, from the more humanoid high fae to other types, less common, and more exotic. A place where all manner of magical substances could be procured, both legal and illegal. A location hidden from the mundane, and unfriendly to certain types of paras.

Within its expensive space, beyond a dance floor teaming with life, and a bar busier than ever, was a second floor revered for special guests, such as a pair of foreign fae, being hosted by the club’s owner.

Vixtara Goldedge waved goodbye to the two fae as they were led to one of the club’s private rooms. She could smell their desire for one another and the three clubgoers they’d beguiled and so easily seduced. All three had been high on pixie sticks, a drug that sounded like a child's toy, but in reality, sent even those with heavy magical resistances into a clouded state of pleasure and mixed emotions.

She’d seen it have both positive and negative effects. Enough so, that she forbid it to be sold to none fae inside the club. Fae always seemed to have a positive experience while paras like vampires and wolfs could get… chaotic. A vampire might try and drain everyone around them while a wolf would get territorial to the extreme, and look for a pale to sheath their doggy bone.

No, she didn’t like mutts and bloodsuckers in the club, though if they had enough money or prestige, then she would allow them, so long as they understood who was in charge.

“Mistress, he’s here.” The dryad bowed, allowing Vix to her a rather nice look down her chest. The dryad blushed, and Vix felt the rising desire from her.

“Send him up, dear,” Vix purred, reaching over and caressing the dryad's cheek. “And why don’t you head down and have some fun. Have Mara or Aletta take over.” The dryad beamed and bowed very low. “Thank you, Mistress.”

Unlike some of her competitors in Portland, she believed that the carrot was far greater than the stick, and when used correctly, had a greater effect. She wanted them loyal not out of fear, but desire, and love. The same way a pet loves its owner.

Vix took a sip of her drink as she waited. She surveyed the area around her. She was in an alcove away from the others and two satyrs guards stood nearby. Each was well trained in battle, both in bed and the more common sort. They both locked eyes on the approaching were-hyena, and tried to stare him down. It did them no good. This guest was not like most.

“Hello Ray,” Vix said, her voice warm and pleasant. More than the mutt in front of her deserved in her opinion, but manners were free, even for those who didn't deserve it. She wasn’t as arrogant as some other fae. She was far more understanding of others, even if she despised having to act. Sometimes it was needed, however.

“Vicky.” Ray’s deep voice sounded cautious but also laced with faint lust. It wasn’t a surprise that the muscular were-hyena in front of her felt such a way. Indeed, Vix would be offended if he didn’t. She was after all dressed to impress and bring out the desire from within. It was a surprise it was only a hint she could detect. Maybe the mutt was finally learning not to drool so openly.

That thought was proved wrong a moment later when he sat down and roamed his eyes over her. His desire grew and grew, and if not for the fact she needed him, Vix would have had him… punished. “Done admiring, hmm?”

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His head snapped up, and he coughed, realizing his error, though he didn’t guilty, at least not for looking. “You look good.” It was as much as she could expect him to muster. He certainly wasn’t one with words, but lucky for both of them, that wasn’t why she needed him.

“Well, Ray, have you got what I need?”

He smiled and leaned forward. Vix suppressed the urge to gag. He stank of sweat, blood, and poor decisions. Gods, but why didn’t weres wash more often? They seemed to enjoy basking in each other's awful scents. Like every time they met, she cursed her enhanced fae smell and wished she could trust another form of contact to relay this information. However, with DOSA on high alert, she preferred a face-to-face exchange.

“I’ve got someone in Jones lot, and…” He leaned closer, and Vix leaned back. He didn't seem to notice. “The fucker’s almost onto it. Something about a mixup with the numbers. I should have the info soon.”

“Good, I want to know as soon as possible.”

Ray chuckled. “Don’t want Adam getting it all, huh.”

Vix smiled coldly at the mention of her ex-lover. Once upon a time, they’d been partners and could have ruled the underground of this city, but then he had betrayed her. She had been willing to sacrifice for their relationship, but he hadn’t. He had taken what he could and left. Not the city, no, he was bold. He had set up shop right in Portland and had basically called her to retaliate. But she was no fool. Her forces were not suited to direct combat. She paid people for that, and one day he would get what was coming. She was no vampire, but this vixen had fangs. “Of course not. Why let him get everything? He has enough.”

Ray nodded. “He does at that. Oh, by the way, have you heard about the witches?”

“They're fighting, I’m aware.”

“Were fighting,” Ray said. “The Concordia coven has backed off for now. They’re weak. Prime real estate for a joint venture.”

Now, this was unexpected. In all her time having known Ray, he had never once proposed anything. He did as told, and expected payment. That was it. “And praytell, what would one want with their territory?”

He shrugged. “Many things. I’ve always wanted to expand, and think of all the young blood you could get your hands on. You ain’t got influence over all the city’s fae.”

Vix frowned at the remainder. She had better connections to the downtown area and the fae that preferred the more modern life. Those in national parks were not fans of her, of her people. She had tried to make contact, but it had never ended well. But, if she managed to get her hands on some of their young blood, those who went to education in that area, she could influence things through them while gaining more loyal followers. Although, with DOSA as it was, it would have to wait.

“I’ll think about it,” Vix said, leaning back, and waving at him. “For now, stay low and quiet. Do your usual. Don’t let Jones catch you, and contact me the moment you find out more, understand?”

He stood, and looked her over once more, but he didn't ask or make a move. He had before, and he knew there was no way in hell, she was fucking a were-hyena. That was like sleeping with the ugliest kid in the bunch, and the stinkiest.

As he walked off, no doubt to go looking below, she swirled her cup of faerie wine idly and considered things. It was looking up. The foreign fae meant her businesses were booming, and she was making connections left and right. It helped that she had a small link to a dead fae royal in her line. Only small, but enough that they viewed her as one of them. She didn't care much for it, but she’d continue to play so long as it had its many benefits. She would just as easily ditch it, the moment it became a liability.