“Those are delicious,” he said, taking one. “I had one earlier. I have to ask Dave for the recipe. Mom would love them.”
More patrons started down the stairs and Owen and I got back to work. Although I opened at noon, we usually didn’t see an uptick in customers until around two. I left Meri to cover the bookstore while Owen and I served the bar.
Dave arrived at four and Meri ran into the kitchen to let him know what was going on. She’d returned my phone at some point, thanking me for introducing her to Arwyn. Meri looked lighter and happier than I’d ever seen her. A weight had been lifted.
Around five, Dave came out to update the menu board posted outside the kitchen. Chili and cornbread tonight. Dave wore a glamour when he was above where humans could see him. Up there he was a muscular, bald Black man. Down here, he didn’t try to pass for human. He was half-demon and he looked it, with dark red skin and shark-black eyes.
Leaning against the bar sink, he crossed his arms over his chest and quietly asked, “Was that really all that happened?”
The bar was crowded and noisy. As of right now, Dave and I were the only ones here with sensitive hearing, so our murmured conversation was private. “I wanted to kill him.”
He nodded, not looking at me. “I doubt she even knows, but she has a talent, a fae trick, for getting people to care for her.”
I turned to him, brow furrowed.
He moved a beefy shoulder. “She’s a sweet kid. Like I said, I doubt she even knows, but I feel it when she’s around. I haven’t talked to Fyr about it—we’re not close like that—but he is extremely protective of her.” He glanced down at his shoes and then said, “I was watching him. The fact that he constantly volunteers to drive her around was making me uncomfortable. He’s almost thirty and she’s seventeen. I didn’t know if his captivity as a child was screwing with his head and his idea of appropriate relationships, or what.”
“Do you know something?” Fyr would be out of here today if he was preying on a teenager.
Dave shook his head. “Nah. The two of them have a brother-sister thing. I think her fae magic makes him more eager to look out for her. That’s all.”
I blew out a breath.
“I do think that’s why she doesn’t work at the Bubble Lounge anymore. Working for her aunt seems like the obvious place to be and I’d imagine her aunt can pay her better than you can. She talked about her cousins being jerks to her. My guess is they feel her magic, recognize it, and resent her for using it on them. I honestly don’t think she even knows she’s doing it or how to control it.”
He smirked at me. “She tells me you’re loaning her money for a car.”
I dropped my head into my hands and heard him laugh.
Patting my shoulder, he added, “Don’t feel bad. I only know because I offered the same thing, and she told me you’d beat me to it.” He shook his head. “The kid does need a ride. She’s giving off some kind of vibe that makes the weak-minded go nuts. It’s not safe for her to be walking the streets. The issue is we need to find someone who can teach her how to control her magic.”
“I connected her with Arwyn. Maybe she can work with her.”
Dave nodded slowly, watching the waves. “Arwyn knows more about her wicche side than her fae side, but I don’t feel the need to protect her, so if she has the same talent, she’s learned how to hide it. Good plan.” He turned and walked back into the kitchen.
When the sun began to set, Vlad walked out of the back and sat on a stool at the bar. The volume of conversations dropped the minute he walked through the kitchen door. Patrons watched him out of the corners of their eyes.
A table of wicches near the stairs got up, waving nervously at me as they headed up and out. I crossed my arms and glared at him.
“What?” he asked, as though he didn’t know.
Another table quietly skirted around him and disappeared up the stairs.
“You are ruining my business,” I hissed behind gritted teeth.
He raised his eyebrows at me and turned to the side to watch five more people escape. “I have no idea what you mean. I haven’t done anything. I merely sat in your establishment. If your patrons realized it was time to go home, that’s hardly on me.”
“Will you be purchasing anything this time?” I asked.
Expression haughty, he replied, “Unless blood donors have been added to the menu, I think not.”
Dave walked out, carrying a tray with bowls of chili and baskets of cornbread. He stopped, scanned the rapidly emptying bar, and then turned to Vlad. “Couldn’t you have waited until after I served dinner?”
Vlad glanced over his shoulder at the nearly empty bar and then at Dave’s tray. “I could have, but I was bored.”
SIX
Let the Investigation Begin
