It infuriated Sif that people didn't appreciate the menace of a bunnygirl bar.
Oh sure, bunnygirls weren't the most dangerous fey. They weren't holstaurs who could turn a man into a brainless stud with their milk. They didn't have brainwashing pollen like alraunes, nor did they have a penchant for potions like goblin maids.
But they were still dangerous.
Insidious.
For though true, bunnygirls had no innate magic to corrupt a man, they were still fey.
Still dangerous.
Even if they were unbelievably dumb.
From his window in the
Pig and Blanket
inn, he scrutinized the
Hopalong House
across the street. A business, they said. He scoffed. As if. Bunnygirls were smart enough to run a business. Their only claim to fame was being easy.
No.
There was more to this. And as a ranger of the Amber Wolf, it was his job to ensure that monster girls weren't taking advantage of humans and corrupting them.
And
Hopalong House
was surely doing that.
The proof, however, had been a little hard to obtain.
He frowned, glaring at bunnygirl bar. He'd been staking the
Hopalong House
out for several days, interviewing men and women, recording everything he could find. Stories of straying wives and husbands. Of money splurged at the bar and changes in people who'd become 'special customers.'
He shook his head. Yeah, he bet they were special. But the thing was that though the customers went home in the evenings, they always came back. So there were no kidnappings. No deaths. No people vanishing and turned into brainwashed husbands or studs. Seemingly nothing that would warrant attention. But he wasn't fooled. Those dumb bunnies were up to something. Not that he should need proof. In the villages and countryside people still remembered the old warnings. The dangers of the fey and the way they preyed on people. But the city was different. More... cosmopolitan, as the captain of the guard had patiently explained when Sif brought up his concerns.
"
Hopalong House
is a very popular business, and we're very interested in supporting new venues from our fey neighbours," the captain said. "If we were going to kick them out just for being fey, we'd have to do the same to the holstaurs, the goblins, the doptarines, and more. Would you have us do that?"
"Yes, frankly," Sif had snapped.
The captain had given him an expression of forced politeness, and Sif realized that he had not been the first ranger the captain had been forced to deal with.
"Tell you what," the captain had said patiently. "You bring me some evidence of illegal magics, and we'll talk. Until then,
Hopalong House
is going to remain open. And unmolested," he'd added in a warning tone.
Sif had wanted to grab the man and shake him until he saw sense, but had resisted the impulse. He knew the bunnygirls were up to something, and assaulting the captain of the guard would have gotten him banished from the city, leaving the populace to their fate.
No worse than they deserved, he thought bitterly. Especially with how busy the bar was.
Sif had managed to drag one of the 'special' customers into an alley and worked the man over. Sadly, aside from some obvious extreme inebriation, Sif hadn't found any residue of magic or intoxicants. So it was something else those bunnygirls were doing. Some other way they were enticing customers to return again and again, and he sincerely doubted it was for the food. There had to be a trick. Had to be a spell! And it was up to him to find out what.
A whistle made him turn back to his room's lone table, where he'd assembled his alchemical array. A greenish potion hissed out a burst of steam, and Sif lifted it free of the burner, giving it a speculative shake. He grinned as the bubbles settled. Perfect. He wasn't sure just how those bunnygirls were drugging men, but this antidote would up his resistance to magic intoxicants. Between it and his natural resistance to fey magic, he'd be safe. He downed the potion, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste, then nodded to himself and rose. Well, he'd not learn anything more from the outside.
Time to enter the belly of the beast.
He made his way out of the inn and crossed the street, the music piping from within the
Hopalong House
in a trilling jig. He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The interior of the bar was lit by the low glow of lamps hanging from the rafters. It was tight inside, with booths filling the walls while a smattering of tables fanned across the floor before a stage. Men and a few women crowded the seats, though Sif couldn't help but notice that though the bar didn't lack for customers, they seemed to have at least one server for every patron.
Sif stared. He'd never seen so many bunnygirls. Or in such... revealing attire. All were dressed in fishnet stockings that hugged plump thighs, while corsets cinched around waists, lifting the ample orbs of breasts. Long and floppy ears bobbed as the eager girls laughed or snuggled against the patrons, urging them to drink or gossip or just talk.
And the smell...
What was that smell?
Sif's nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. It wasn't... unpleasant. But it was strange. Potent. Something beyond the aroma of too many bodies, ale and cheap fried food. It was also a bit familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.
What was it?
"Table for one?"
He snapped back to the present and looked to the side, finding a bunnygirl beaming at him from a stool behind a podium. Somewhat short, plump in a pleasing way, her brown hair was styled into a ponytail that hung over her shoulder. Her eyes were bright and her floppy rabbit ears perked up at his presence.
"Sorry?" Sif asked.
She giggled, ears and chest bouncing with her mirth, and Sif hid his grimace at the playfully feminine display. He knew too well it was merely a ploy by a fey creature to tempt humans, after all. "Are you sitting alone? Or with a party?" she asked.
