The Magical World of the Fae Event - Excerpt of A Drop of Poison By Kat Gracey

CHAPTER ONE

“One last little drop and…”
I carefully used the dropper to add the final ingredient, holding my breath so I didn’t add too much. A single drop of red liquid went in the bottle and when it hit the rest of the liquid, it turned a vibrant green.
“Oh yeah, I’m good,” I said, grinning in satisfaction.
Aidan stared at me, eyes wide.
“How do you do that? No one has been able to get that potion right.”
Stoppering the bottle, I gave it a shake.
“Natural talent.”
Aidan snorted in response. He was just jealous. I was the best potion maker in the country, maybe even in the world and he knew it. Which begged the question, why was I working out of the back of an old restaurant, hiding my talent, when I could be making the big bucks.
Well, I knew why. Witches had to be careful in this city. The supernatural authorities liked to keep a close eye on us, making sure we didn’t overstep the mark. One witch got caught hexing someone a few months back and they threw her in prison for two years. I mean sure it was a well known goblin leader she was hexing, but that was uncalled for. The general rule was as long as you aren’t doing anything to those in charge, they don’t really give a shit.
“How much do you think you’ll get for it?” I asked, handing the bottle to Aidan.
He held it up to the light for a better look.
“Uh, maybe three hundred. If we’re lucky.”
“Well, get lucky, I’d like to eat this week.”
With a nod, Aidan placed the bottle in a box and left the kitchen. It was an odd setup, but it could be a lucrative one if you played your cards right. Aidan was a witch too, but he didn’t have much in the way of natural talents. He was good at finding buyers though, which was why I whipped up the potions and he sold them for us. Fifty-fifty cut for each of us.
Grabbing a cloth, I started mopping up any spilt ingredients from earlier. Despite the fact this entire building was condemned, I always took the time to make sure my workspace was clean. Potions were delicate things. One wrong move, or any kind of contamination could mess it up. And I wouldn’t be accused of shoddy work.
“Not that it matters with poison,” I muttered.
Okay, my natural talent involved some very specific types of potions. The contents were untraceable and depending on what was used, they could make it look like someone died of natural causes.
I wasn’t a monster, I didn’t whip them up for anyone. Right now, there was a lot of rumblings with the vampires, they were constantly trying to expand their territory and killed anyone who got in their way. No one would miss a few of them.
Taking on a vamp one on one was pretty much a death sentence unless you had super strength, and the resistance group who bought the poison didn’t. They were just trying to protect their families. A drop of my potion would desiccate a vamp, leave him a shrivelled mess, easy to stake. I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.
Grabbing my case, I started packing my things inside. As I picked up my mini cauldron, my hand shook slightly. Pausing, I took a deep breath, running my hand through my short, black and red streaked hair.
It was moments like this I found it difficult to get Sarah’s face out of my head. My little sister. Murdered by vampires, along with our parents when I was only a kid. Not that I knew the vamps were responsible at the time. I found out much later.
Years ago, Sarah spotted the cauldron in a junk store and begged Mom to buy it for me. She knew I would like it. It was cast iron and excellent for potion brewing. Of course at the time, we were playing, I had no real idea about potion making. That came later too. If I had some of these potions at my disposal back then, maybe I could have done something to save them.
My phone rang, startling me. Pulling it from my pocket, I answered it.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this...Aurora?” a woman asked.
“Rory, but yeah. What can I do for you?”
“Um, I got your number from a friend. She said you could help me with something.”
Goddess, I hated the timid ones. They were always reluctant to get to the point.
“What do you need?” I asked, tapping my fingers impatiently.
“I don’t really want to discuss it over the phone. Someone could be listening. Could we meet somewhere. Please? I’ll pay anything.”
That made me pay attention. Maybe I could squeeze a few extra bucks out of her. While most of my business was with Aidan, I did have personal clients that he didn’t need to know about.
“Okay. You got a pen?”
“Yes.”
I reeled off my address to her. “Meet me in an hour.”
“I will. Thank you.”
She hung up.
I admit I was a little intrigued by what she wanted, but it was probably just an abusive husband she wanted rid of. I got that a lot. Honestly, I could probably make that a full time job, but I didn’t kill humans. No matter how much they deserved it. But I could give her something to punish him or even make him leave.
Packing up the rest of my stuff, I left the restaurant and headed east. I had given her my home address. Well, home wasn’t entirely accurate. It was an abandoned house I was staying in. The good thing was if there ever was an issue, if someone tried to send the authorities after me, I could just grab my stuff and bail.
Nothing is ever permanent.
Something my mom used to say. No shit.
I reached the house about twenty minutes later. Checking there was no on else in the street, I cut down and alley, climbed a fence and came into the house through a window at the back. I had to be careful. It would only take the wrong nosey neighbor to report me and I’d be chased out.
The house was a two storey, five bedroom Victorian that was abandoned because of structural issues. So far, it seemed to be holding up well. The chain-link fence around the front stopped anyone from getting too close and I got to stay here until they decided to tear it down.
Shame. It looked like it could have been a great place to live once upon a time. The kitchen was a lost cause, hence why I worked out of the restaurant, but there were some rooms at the front of the house that were fine.
Dumping my bag in the room I slept in, I headed back downstairs and lit some candles. No electricity was a bitch too.
The front room still had some furniture in it, so I used it the most. I gave it a quick tidy, then moved to the window to watch for her. At almost exactly the hour, a silver sedan pulled up. I moved to the back door, opened it and made my way around. She couldn’t exactly walk in the front door.
The woman was in her forties, wearing a crumpled navy suit and a string of pearls. She looked like some PTA mom. Looking up at the house, her brow creased in confusion and I saw her check a piece of paper in her hand.
I whistled and her head whipped up. Motioning for her to follow me, I didn’t wait to see if she did. I headed back inside.
A few minutes later, she came in through the back door, moving slowly.
“Is this your house?” she asked.
“Technically? It will do for now. Come through.”
I lead her to the living room which looked almost normal compared to the rest of the house.
A loud creak came from above us and the woman’s head whipped up. She was jumpy.
“Are we alone?” she asked, playing with the pearls.
“Yes. It’s just the house settling.” Or collapsing. Fifty-fifty on that. “What do you want?”
She tore her gaze from the ceiling and looked at me. Then she looked around the room, her eyes landing on a few potion bottles on the table by the window. She moved slowly toward them, her hand brushing the table, but she didn’t pick any up.
“I heard you specialize in...potions that can take care of problems.”
More dancing around the subject. What was she asking for?
“Depends. What do you want?”
She turned to face me, her gaze steady. Something was off about her. The voice on the phone was nervous, this woman was not that. Not really. More alert. She stood straight, arms by her side, body tense. I learned to read body language a long time ago, you had to when you grew up in care. Something was up with her.
“I need to deal with someone who is bothering me. A co-worker.”
Co-worker? That didn’t sound right either. How could a co-worker be so bad that she had to come to me.
“Have you tried changing jobs?” I suggested, then kicked myself.
If she was willing to pay, why was I trying to talk her our of it. Still, that doubt persisted.
“Unfortunately, that’s not an option. I need something that will...put him out of work. So to speak.”
I was starting to wonder if she was some undercover fed at this point. Like she wanted me to admit to something, but I didn’t know what.
“Look, the best I can do is give you something with a really strong laxative effect. Would that do it?”
She pulled a face. “Not quite what I had in mind.”
“Well, I guess you’ve been misinformed then.”
The woman stared at me for a moment, then she sighed.
“I guess so.”
She adjusted her jacket and headed for the door. I followed her and let her back out.
“Good luck with…”
But she was already out the gate.
“Whatever.”
Weirded out, I closed the door and locked it. Something was definitely up with her. I needed to be careful.
Maybe its time to move again.

Kat Gracey writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance novels featuring her two favorite supernatural beings - witches and werewolves.
She currently resides in the UK, where she enjoys yoga and catching up on her favorite shows. You can learn more about her books via her website: https://www.witchesandwerewolves.co.uk