Up to New Tricks [Rosemary]

[Every]

[outfit]

“Just tell the bouncer that Mercy sent you.”

She checked the watch face that sat on the inside of her wrist before pulling her sleeve back down over it. Every had gotten there early, pausing at the bar to purchase two glasses of blood and made her way through the crowd towards a corner booth where she could see the establishment in full. Although her attention was focused more towards the door, waiting for the pink haired Rosemary, she listened to her surroundings, the topics ranged from the businesses shutting down abruptly to the noises that someone could hear in Honeymead, and finally, the rumor of Harper Rock planning to be bombed. A snort escaped her person at the latter piece, finding it to be ridiculous that others had actually believed it and left town without a moment of hesitation.

Still, there had been an influx of crime. Yet, some remained in Harper Rock. Fighting, wanting for it to continue from both species. She still struggled with the idea of working with most humans, but if it would help solve the problem she’d aided in creating, Every didn’t have a problem with it. That would be a suggestion made, but for now, the shadow knew that she’d have to get through the upcoming meeting with other vampires. Tilting her head to one side, and then the other, she released some of the tension in her neck and shoved the thought out of her mind. Removing her phone from her pocket, she searched through her emails to re-read through the conversations with the vampiress she was waiting for.

Every would wait until the last moment to triangulate the wraith, she didn’t trust it not to move while she was sitting there. Silas, her wraith, lingered nearby outdoors, ready for the description of where to begin looking as Every collected a pen from a man walking past with deft fingers and placed it on a top of a napkin. The anxiety about meeting someone new had passed, her hazel eyes sweeping over the faces of the patrons inside the club. Some she recognized from her nights bartending or bouncing, another man greeting her with a simple, “Hey, Mercy” to which she smiled in response. The decision to use the identity of the body she’d taken up had been easier, although at first, she’d been unsure whether or not her curse would allow her, too.

“I solemnly swear I’m hardly up to no good.”

She murmured under her breath, shifting in her seat to rearrange the holster concealed by her jacket before she lifted her glass to her lips. Perhaps her nerves weren’t entirely gone as she drummed her nails unconsciously on the table.