The door hissed open, and warm air washed over them—perfumed with clove, steel, and something like crushed berries soaked in wine. Shadows danced across velvet drapes, and golden candlelight shimmered on walls painted to resemble moonlit stone.
They stepped inside.
The lair was more salon than stronghold, but something primal buzzed beneath its polish—like walking into a predator's den wrapped in silk. Soft rugs, overstuffed cushions, and gilded relics from half a dozen cultures filled the chamber. The lighting was low, sensual, and carefully angled to draw the eye toward the figure lounging across a throne-like chaise.
Boo.
She sat like sin given flesh—her robe was a sheer tangle of black and violet tulle, curling off her in ghostlike layers. Gold rings adorned her horns and fingers, and her long legs were draped with effortless poise over one arm of the seat. A dagger glittered between her fingers, idly spinning.
At her feet, a dazed-looking elf sat cross-legged, still catching his breath. His lipstick was smeared. His eyes—heavy-lidded. He glanced at the newcomers with only mild interest, then laid his head against Boo's thigh like a cat seeking warmth.
Boo arched a brow.
"Switch," she said, voice like poured velvet. "You didn't mention you were bringing such interesting guests. You know how I feel about surprises."
Switch held up both hands quickly. "All good surprises this time, I swear! No blood curses or firebombs, promise."
"Mm. Disappointing." Boo's gaze shifted to Nyxia, then Perseus. Her expression turned appraising. Hungry. "You must be the ones poking around after Ves'Sariel."
Nyxia stiffened. "She knows?"
Switch shrugged. "She knows everything. That's why she pays me so well."
"I don't recall hiring introductions," Boo said, not looking at him. Her eyes remained locked on Nyxia. "You… you're interesting."
Nyxia raised her chin, guarded but steady. "We need help."
"I'm not in the business of charity," Boo purred, stroking the elf's hair idly. "Especially not for strangers."
Perseus stepped forward, shoulders square, hammer still strapped across his back. "We tracked Ves'Sariel to the slums beneath Serath'Kai. Her signature was all over the tunnel. We need someone who knows how deep she's rooted here."
"And you think I'm that someone?" Boo asked, smile razor-thin. "Darling, I didn't survive this long by getting involved in other people's vendettas."
"You've survived this long because you know when to pick a fight," Nyxia replied coolly. "And when to cut your losses."
That made Boo laugh—low and amused. "Are you threatening me in my own den?"
Loque growled once, deep and vibrating, and Boo's gaze flicked to him. She seemed to measure him in a glance. Then—genuinely intrigued—she leaned forward.
"Spirit beast. Rare bond. You're full of surprises, aren't you?"
"Help us," Nyxia said. "And we'll owe you."
Boo tilted her head. "You're offering debt? That's a delicious way to start a relationship."
Perseus narrowed his eyes. "We don't have time for games."
"Everything's a game, hammer boy." Boo rose slowly, the folds of her robe whispering across the floor as she crossed the room. "Some just play better than others."
She circled Nyxia once. Not predatory—more like a tailor sizing up a dress form. Then she stepped between her and Perseus, finger tracing a brief line along his chestplate.
"You're stiff," she murmured. "Probably noble. Paladin, I'd bet. Do you bleed gold under all that righteousness?"
Perseus bristled. "Only when I'm forced to."
"Mmm. You'll be fun to watch," Boo said, stepping back.
Then, just like that, the flirtation dropped.
Her expression sharpened. Serious now.
"You want information on Ves'Sariel? Fine. I've heard whispers. Nothing solid, not yet—but something is moving in the old vault sectors. Something she might be tied to."
"And you'll share that?" Nyxia asked.
"I'll consider it," Boo said, turning back toward her throne. "In exchange for something of equal interest. A task. A retrieval. A message delivered."
Switch shifted awkwardly. "To be clear, that's her being nice."
"Very nice," Boo said without turning. "Especially for strangers who just barged into my home."
Nyxia's jaw tightened, but she nodded. "We'll pay your price."
"I knew you'd be reasonable." Boo snapped her fingers, and the elf at her feet slipped into the shadows without a word. "Switch, get them something to drink. I need a moment to think."
"On it, boss."
As he moved toward the back wall, Boo settled into her seat again, crossing her legs with practiced ease.
"Oh, and one more thing," she added as she poured herself a glass of deep crimson wine. "If you lie to me—or bring Ves'Sariel through my door—I won't ask questions."
She sipped. Smiled.
"I'll just gut you."
Boo twirled the stem of her wineglass between her fingers, watching the flick of candlelight dance along the rim. Then she snapped.
Three attendants emerged from the curtains beyond the throne—draped in silk, sheer veils, and strategically placed jewelry. Two were draenei—one male, one female—glowing faintly under the ambient light. The third, a high elf with tattoos that shimmered with arcane filigree, moved with such grace it was hard to tell if he walked or glided.
Each carried trays of wine, steaming platters of spiced fruit, sugared meat, and a small brass box emitting the scent of crushed cinnamon and powdered dreamleaf.
"Make them comfortable," Boo said lazily. "And I don't mean just the drinks."
The attendants bowed and descended upon the pair. One draped a fur-lined cushion beneath Nyxia's legs. Another slid up beside Perseus with a goblet in hand, eyes smoldering, fingers brushing too deliberately as he passed him the wine.
Nyxia didn't move at first—still stiff, still cautious—but her lips parted slightly as the female attendant gently placed cool grapes into her palm.
Perseus blinked, then shifted awkwardly as his draenei attendant poured dark red wine into his cup, the carafe never spilling a drop despite the teasing arc it traveled.
"Is this really necessary?" he muttered under his breath.
Boo grinned. "Necessary? No. Delicious? Absolutely. I find conversation goes down smoother when your throat is already wet."
Switch cleared his throat awkwardly, halfway between lingering and pretending not to notice the lounging attendants.
"Boss, uh, you want me to stick around for the briefing or...?"
Boo turned her head slowly toward him, one brow lifting. "Switch. Darling. You smell like vending machine grease and desperation. Be useful—go sniff out if that Gloomrot smuggler's back in Dock Eleven. If so, slit his purse or his throat, whichever's lighter."
"Gladly," Switch said with a grin, bowing out with theatrical flair. "Try not to kill anyone while I'm gone. Except emotionally."
The door shut behind him with a soft hiss.
Silence followed—just the crackle of the brazier and the slow exhale of Loque at Nyxia's side.
"Now," Boo said, rising once more from her chaise and moving to stand before the duo. "Let's stop pretending this is a negotiation. You need information. I have it—or I can get it. But information comes at a cost."
"We said we're willing to pay," Nyxia said carefully, sitting straighter as her goblet was taken from her hand by a waiting attendant.
"Oh, I'm sure you are," Boo said, circling behind her. "But let me be clear. I don't want coin. I want leverage."
She reached down and trailed a single finger along the exposed nape of Nyxia's neck. "You have history. Pain. Something Ves'Sariel didn't just touch—she tore through it. I want to know what made her interested in you."
Nyxia went still.
Perseus stood. "That wasn't the deal."
Boo's eyes glinted as she turned to face him. "It wasn't a deal yet."
The attendants didn't move. But they didn't leave either.
"Fine," Boo said after a moment, brushing invisible dust from her sleeve. "You don't want to share? Then you'll earn it the traditional way."
She tossed a folded note onto the table between them.
"Job's simple. Something was stolen from me. A relic. My name was scratched off its warding rune, which tells me someone knew it was mine. I want it back. Unbroken. Unburned. And with the idiot who took it still breathing—if possible."
Nyxia picked up the note and unfolded it. A name. A place. A sketch of a mask carved with the same rose-and-fangs sigil over Boo's door.
"This isn't a bounty," Boo said. "It's a message."
Perseus met her eyes. "We deliver the relic and the thief—then you help us."
"I'll do better than that," Boo said smoothly. "I'll show you where to start looking. And I'll tell you the name of the next person Ves'Sariel tried to recruit. A friend of mine."
Nyxia exchanged a look with Perseus.
Boo clapped her hands. The attendants retreated immediately, collecting the trays and vanishing behind the velvet curtains with soft, padded steps.
"Rest here if you want," Boo said. "But don't get too comfortable."
She turned, the train of her robe catching the firelight in wisps.
This city's about to remember why it should have feared her. And if you're not moving fast enough, she'll bury you in memory before you even draw your next breath.