"Trust me, you shouldn't want anyone like me on your back."
"Maybe I don't want anyone like you on my back," His eyes darkened as he stepped closer, confining me tighter into barely any space as my back pressed against the wall.
"Maybe I want you. U...
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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
IT WAS A GENTLEMEN'S CLUB perched on what appeared to be the busiest street in London—or perhaps every London street was busy this time of night. Sophisticated chatter of the refined society city men floated and thrummed in the air, different baritones lulled together in a consistent thrum etched with a mixture of stark colognes that made the Halmasti Jinn in my periphery shift in discomfort. A creature long since been kept subdued in a German dwarf family's attic, it was no surprise that life clustered so raw like that startled him so.
Angus had made himself scarce in a way that I could only feel the warmth of his presence behind me as I looked up at the entrance of the club with Elias Dupont standing beside me. I glanced at the boy, taking in his polished navy suit and gelled hair. It had taken me a few minutes to amp up his presentation and mold his features only slightly—courtesy of his discomfort—in a way that he appeared to be naturally a part of the London society of refined men. Though I had no inclination of all that that would entail, I trusted Dupont to hold off the other end of his own accord.
My own appearance had been altered, and I now wore a dark maroon burlesque dress, with my hair done up extravagantly and my silver gem studded heels already digging into the soft flesh of my feet painfully. I hadn't bothered with my features, the act had felt too deranged in a way, so I had only hid my features under a layer of colors and made sure my mark was hidden. Elias Dupont had made the point that the only way a woman could get into a club of this kind, she would have to look as I did at present.
"What does the death eater look like again?" The boy at my side asked, his tone betraying a hint of anxiety, his eyes fixed on the flashing neon sign on the entrance of the club.
"Twenty four, blonde hair, pale skin," I repeated steadily just as Angus had reported. "If there are more than one who fit this description, Angus will guide us to the correct one."
"That's reassuring," Elias exhaled, not yet warmed up to the idea of a les dorés being on the beck and call.
His discomfort made sense, true to his character Elias had always been an advocate of everything that had ever been taught rightfully.
With that said, he extended his arm out for me to take and I wrapped my own around it as we made our way inside. The bright lights took us in as the mixture of cologne that was bearable outside, attacked our senses with full force, and so did the baritones of various conversations. I exhaled softly, keeping my breathing steady and pinning a smile to my face as eyes turned towards us from passersby as they either entered or exited.
There was a suited man present at the door—a muggle—his manner precise and eyes staring ahead as he kept a keen notice of every exit and entry. But he didn't bat an eye differently at either Elias or myself, and that alone was consolation enough for my anxiety.
