After Zee hurried off, Ursula slipped into her seat, watching as the bartender put together their drinks. After dropping two sugar cubes into a pair of champagne flutes, he retrieved a bottle of Angostura. He dropped the bitters onto the cubes—deep red drops, like blood on snow. As he filled the glasses with champagne, Ursula shivered for a moment, thinking of the last hellhound, and the entrails that had decorated a tree.

The bartender slid the glasses across the rich wood.

“Thank you.” When she took a sip, the bubbles tickled her nose.

A thin hand snapped up the other drink. “Just in time,” said Zee.

“When do you think Hugo will get here?” Ursula whispered.

“Soon, I suppose. He’s a regular here.” Zee leaned in close. “I can’t believe he’s your first target.”

“How is it that you know all about this? About what I do?”

Zee’s blue eyes sparkled. “I take it Kester hasn’t told you very much about me.”

Of course not. He hadn’t told her very much about anything. Before Ursula could asked her what she meant, Zee shushed her. “Hugo’s here.”

“Where?”

“In the corner booth. Three o’clock. No wait. Nine o’clock? Whatever. To your left.”

Ursula shifted in her seat.

“Don’t look. He’s seen me. Did you see him? Don’t look!” Zee paused for what seem like a minute, but was probably only a few seconds. “Ok, you can look now, but don’t be obvious. He’s with a brunette. A lingerie model. I recognize her.” Zee took a sip of her champagne. “Shall we chat with him?”

Zee’s onslaught of directions had left Ursula confused. “Now? I was planning on cornering him here at the bar.”

“He has bottle service. He won’t leave his table.” Zee slipped off her stool and started toward Hugo’s booth. After smoothing down her hair, Ursula followed. Apparently, they were just going to walk up and introduce themselves to the superstar.

Hugo slouched into the pale leather of a large U-shaped booth. A bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket shaped like a golden egg. Just to the side of the table hovered an enormous bald bodyguard, with a face the color of raw meat. A snake tattoo curled around his scalp. Even with fire magic on her side, Ursula didn’t want to learn how she’d do in a fight against him. She’d have to find a way to leave the hulk behind, and get Hugo on his own.

She stopped just next to Zee at the edge of the table, clutching her champagne. She tried to loosen her shoulders so she didn’t look quite so much like a grim reaper on a death hunt. Except that’s pretty much what I am.