The rest of the day passed quickly, no matter how much she tried to centre herself and slow it down. It was as though she blinked, and then it was time for Liam to go. Their target for the evening, Cael Banagher, was a minor aristocrat of little influence. As a fifth son, his father had signed him up for military service. He served as a castle guard, where he had seen no action but more importantly, where he had met Liam. During the time they had worked together, Banagher had spoken of brothels and nights spent drinking himself blind. The entire plan hinged on Liam ‘accidentally’ running into him, and convincing him to come to Gretta’s. Liam had been confident that it would be easy, and that they’d have more than one shot at it if Banagher declined the first time.

  Once again, she prepared for the evening in Celia’s room. Vision wished that Celia herself were there but the woman was working. Still irate, Vision had declined to spend any of the day with her mother-figure. She regretted it now, but there was nothing for it. She hadn’t really seen Fox, either, which stung. There was no way she could have without admitting that something was wrong and she couldn’t quite bring herself to tell him that she was leaving. She should have. He deserved to know. Maybe she was selfish, like Daisy had accused. The idea of having that conversation, of being commanded to stay when she had no choice but to go, was too hard. When he’d passed by her earlier, she’d just told him to take the day. They didn’t really need him for the job, she’d said, and he should really still be resting. He’d argued a bit, but ultimately taken Daisy and taken his leave, away from Gretta’s.

  She looked at herself in the mirror once more, and saw her mother again. She imagined that she was a fearless, indomitable sorceress, who loved who she pleased and bowed to no one. She wore black, which was the right colour, although her scraps of chiffon covered far less than a sorceress’ robe would. She wore her silver pendant openly. She wasn’t really hiding any more, after all. Then, with a nod to her reflection, she left the sanctuary of the bedroom and emerged into the bar.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Some of her crew were already in position. Red was at the bar and his eyes followed her the second she came into view. She did her best to ignore it. Fists was there, standing by the door imitating a bouncer. It was a smaller showing than they’d had for the dry run. She sat on one of the lounges, and watched the room. Just as she was beginning to worry about how she would decline any men who approached her, Liam and a man she hadn’t seen before entered the room.

  “What did I tell you?” Liam said, spreading his arms, “Isn’t this place great?”

  The other man, who must be Banagher, was an inch taller than Liam but thin, with a pinched face. He looked around and pulled a face that conveyed casual approval.

  “I suppose it looks alright.”

  “Oh hey, there she is,” Liam said, dragging Banagher to Vision, “This is Vision, the girl I was telling you about. She’s the best.”

  She peered up at them through her lashes.

  “Well hello there.”

  Liam clapped Banagher on the back.

  “Hey man, you enjoy Vision here. It’s on me, for old time’s sake. I’ll go and grab us some drinks.”

  Vision smiled coyly as Liam walked away. She leaned towards Banager, and walked two fingers across his chest.

  “You’re new,” she said coquettishly, “I like that. I get so bored.”

  Banagher smirked and covered her fingers with his own. He’d never stood a chance.