Skylar grabbed the hanging bag and followed Pery into the bar. I was slow-moving as I exited the car, reaching in for the satchel.
“Hey Hunter, sweetheart. Everything go okay?” I looked at the back entrance of Pinkies to catch the red glow of a cigarette being smoked in the shadows. One of the sisters stepped forward so the streetlight caught the blue streaks in her hair. She pulled the smoke away from her mouth, her eyes sharp as she studied me. “Abraham told us what was happening. Busy night all round.”
“Yeah, it is. I’m fine. I’m going to see my mom for a few days.” I walked forward, adjusting the satchel before handing it to her. “Hey, can you give this to Julian? Big guy, looks like a criminal taking up space in the back booth?”
She stubbed out her cigarette and took the bag. “Sure. You sure you don’t want to come in? A celebratory beer?”
“No. No. I’m good.”
“He missed you, you know. Not just recently, with the trouble you had—yes, Abraham told us about the necromancer shit happening. He was hoping we could help. We couldn’t. But I’m talking about Regge.”
“Yeah?”
He hasn’t been here lately, but every time he walked through the door, he looked for you. His vibe was all off whenyou weren’t here. A lot of things can be solved by just talking to each other.”
The bassline of a rock ballad rumbled through the back door, followed by a screech of lyric. I winced. Karaoke was still going.
Inside I knew the gang would be at the bar, beers in front of them, listening to the latest escapade as Regge, maybe even Pery relayed the story. These were my people, often gathering to have a drink, talk plans or whatever. But now I felt like everything was different. Eventually I could be friends with Regge. After my heart healed up some.
“I’ve tried that.” I said, bitterness lacing my words.
“The thing about men is they don’t talk enough. Nor do they listen enough.” She tucked the briefcase under her arm. “You be safe, child. We’ll be here when you get back.”
With a wave at Blue, I called for a car to take me to the train station. My SUV would be fine in the bar’s back lot.
Chapter Twenty-One
Julian succeeds at not losing his mind over his current situation
Julian had nervously prowled the back hallway until he got a text saying they were on their way. He handed Abraham his phone and slumped back into his booth in the corner. He decided that Pinkie’s Bar was a hidden gem in Fishtown. A divey-looking bar, with all manner of weirdos, but decent food and a surprisingly friendly atmosphere.
He felt much better. At least physically. The wound in his chest still ached but less so, and his bruises looked days old instead of hours.
For the time being, Nigel had been quiet. He was grateful for the respite, but his presence was just under Julian’s skin. As more and more people crowded into the bar, Julian kept his gawping to a minimum. Now that he knew about creatures, he couldn’t quit seeing them.
He was adding the bar’s number to his new burner phone when a familiar voice spoke from the closest barstool.
“Julian, you’re here. What a nice surprise.” The dark-haired man walked over. What was his name? Darren? Derek. Yeah, that was it. Of the three in Hunter’s place, Derek was the most normal-looking. Almost too beautiful to be human. Julian had decided he was not. Not at all human.
His adrenaline surged and he tamped down the fight-or-flight response. His muscle mass was much larger than the being in front of him, but he knew just enough about Derek to be cautious.
“Is it a surprise? Why? Because I should be dead?” Julian scowled, thinking of their last encounter.
“Of course not. Barry’s never hurt a fly. We were just messing with you. Sorry about that.”
While he didn’t agree that Barry wouldn’t hurt a fly, Julian hadn’t been talking about the giant specifically. He didn’t like any of these assholes.
“Just stay away from me, man.”
Derek’s assessing gaze changed to curiosity. “You’ve picked up a passenger. Are you aware?”
Oh, he is pretty.
Great. Nigel’s awake. Julian frowned. Hopefully he didn’t say that out loud. “How do you know?”
“I can see him.”
Yes, it’s me. I’m Nigel. Tell him.Tell him. The voice pitched up to an irritating level.
