“Neither can I. Sometimes it creates problems.”
She lifted her eyebrows and turned back to her cider.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” he said, as though picking up on her uncertainty about him.
“Is that right?”
“My life will be forfeit should my employer find out I’m here. He will assume I’m sharing information. I shouldn’t have come.”
“Then why did you?”
He shook his head, small movements, his eyes rooted to Austin Steele. “Pandora wasn’t the only one with curiosity. Now I’m worried I’m hooked. So whatever goes on here is safe with me.”
“We’ll see.”
“Fair enough.”
Jessie slowed as she neared the bar, Jasper peeling off to blend in with the side of the building and Ulric already stationed at the other end. Niamh could feel Jessie’s anger—a coil ready to spring. Austin Steele stopped helping people and stepped back, his gaze on the door.
Right now, Jessie’s anger was on a tight leash. But one wrong word from Austin Steele—one wrong word—and that leash would snap and the fireworks would ignite.
Niamh couldn’t wait for the show.
Seven
Jasper blended into the building as I approached, and I caught sight of Ulric at the other end, his blue and pink hair subdued in the shadows. Mr. Tom had stayed home with Jimmy, who had decided to play video games and escape into a reality he understood. He’d done a lot of far-off staring, paired with some adamant head shaking, but I firmly believed he’d come around. I had to.
Sasquatch stood outside of the door, his hand at his side and a cigarette trailing smoke between his fingers. He looked up as I approached, and his features pinched into a mask of distaste.
“That was my favorite knife,” he said.
“Then you shouldn’t have stuck it in me and stepped away, huh?”
“I would’ve taken it back if you hadn’t used your magic.”
“God you’re dumb.” I shook my head, anger pulsing within me. “Austin has your knife. Ask him for it. Though how a rusty knife could be your favorite, I do not know.”
“It wasn’t that rusty.”
I pushed past him and then stopped, sticking out a finger. His flinch buoyed my mood a little.
“You know what? I want you to keep playing that game with me. I’ll make sure you get your knife back. If you catch me, fine. Stab me. But if you can’t, and I catch you instead, I’ll be the one stabbing you.”
His eyebrows lowered. “You’re going to be in a world of hurt. You’re terrible at your magic.”
“I’m terrible at my magic? What, did you throw yourself at the wall earlier? Is that why you whined to Austin about me?”
His eyes narrowed. I stared him down, waiting for a rebuttal, but he just turned away, pulling a long drag off his cigarette as he left.
Ha! Point to me.
Sucking in a deep breath, I entered the crowded bar, standing room only. I recognized a few faces, but no one nodded to me as I passed. They seemed almost…nervous. Schooling my expression, trying to wipe off any residual anger or frustration, I threaded my way through the crowd. Despite the vibes I was apparently giving out, I wasn’t here to talk smack to Austin, and I definitely didn’t intend to yell at him in front of all of his customers. I would do that in the privacy of Ivy House property, thank you very much.
I was here to see about a mage.
The crowd parted as I walked through. Puzzled strangers or wary regulars shifted out of my way, giving me a view of the bar. Austin stood behind it with a wide stance, popping muscles. His hard expression indicated he was preparing for battle.
I glanced around, getting the sense that my bad mood wasn’t the only trouble brewing. A quick blast of magic helped me find the source: a table at the far back corner of the main room, against the wall that led to the pool room and bathrooms. I couldn’t see any faces through the crowd, only a glimpse of a red cotton-clad elbow, but I felt dark energy radiating from the people sitting there, like oil slicking across water.
Niamh sat in her usual spot, the support beam at her left and a little removed, preventing anyone from sitting too closely on that side. Her fingers curled around her glass, the ice cubes jockeying for position within the fizzy amber liquid.
Sebastian twisted in his seat beside her. I thought he’d look at me, but instead his eyes did loop-de-loops, tracing something through the air. His fingers wiggled in a way that suggested he was doing magic, but I couldn’t see or feel it. He was way more experienced than me. More powerful, too.
“Hey,” I said softly, stopping behind them, my hand coming to rest on the back of Niamh’s chair. The bar chatter, which had quieted down when I first walked in, now cut off entirely, as though the room was holding its collective breath. “Did I get here at a bad time—”