Bas reached out telepathically to Apollo.I’m going somewhere quieter to talk to Hawk Girl. I mean Bridget.
I thought you might, even though it’s rude to be ditching me,Apollo said from across the bar, where he was already chatting with a group of people. He was clearly going to be okay without Bas’s company. Apollo looked at Bridget, and his smile widened.She’s cute. Ask her if she’s interested in blonds.
Bas shot his brother the finger, and Bridget snorted beside him.
“I see the brother thing now,” she said, and Bas followed her out of the bar.
Outside, Bas tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans and wished he hadn’t let Apollo convince him to leave his jacket behind. He was wearing a dark purple shirt that he felt was too small. He had way too many buttons undone because he had been training physically with the fae, and now half of his wardrobe didn’t fit properly. Apollo had said he ‘looked respectable but a little bit slutty’ and had made him wear it.
A deal was a deal, and Bas had sucked it up because he thought he was going to get a sleeping potion out of it. Now, he just felt ridiculous and tried to hide it.
“So where are we going?” he asked.
Bridget pointed. “I know a good coffee shop this way. They won’t care if I eat my dinner there, and it’s quiet enough to talk.”
Be cool, he tried to tell himself. He didn’t want to appear too eager but his inner self, the part of him he was recognizing more and more as his dragon, was prancing about in excitement that magic or fate had pulled them together.
He didn’t want to stare, but he couldn’t help that either. She was beautiful in a sharp, edgy way that made him want to hug her. It was an odd response to a stranger, but he couldn’t help it.
Bas realized the silence had gone on for a little too long, so he said, “I haven’t been down this part of Smithfield in ages. It’s a great spot.”
“It’s my favorite part of the city,” Bridget admitted. “I like being close to the water.”
“Me too. I’m across the river in Temple Bar,” Bas replied. He paused as they drew near a bookstore, and recognition lit him up. “My dad used to bring me here when I was a boy.”
An elderly woman flung open the door to the store. “Basset Greatdrakes! If you walk past this store and do not say hello, I will hex you.”
Bas hurried over and kissed her cheek. “Hello, Marge, how’s the fortune-telling business? I haven’t seen you at theMonkey Pawin forever.”
“I’ve been too busy to drink with you good-for-nothing magicians, and you could have come across the river and said hello to an old lady,” Marge replied, hands on her hips. “How’s your father? Still single?”
Bas laughed. “Yes, and he’s well.”
“If I was twenty years younger, I would court that man so fast, his head would spin,” Marge declared and fanned herself.
“I’ll let him know you’re available for a date,” he said, earning him a playful whack on his chest.
“You two…know each other?” Bridget asked.
“Bridget! Please tell me that the man, that youdidn’tget the phone number of, is Bas Greatdrakes. Christ on bike, girl, what’s wrong with you?” Marge chided before looking up at Bas. “Don’t mind her. She doesn’t know how to date.”
“I don’t really know how either,” Bas replied, his smile widening. “How do you two know each other? Are you teaching Bridget magic? Because she’s damn good.”
Marge’s brows shot up into her turban. “Is she now? She helps run the store and lives above it. Bridget, why didn’t you tell me you had magic?”
Bridget was staring at them, and Bas could see she was one step off dissociating. Bas gently nudged her with his mind, and her eyes refocused.
“I don’t have magic,” she said, her voice small and confused.
“Yes, you do. Maybe we should have that coffee now?” Bas said softly.
Marge clucked her tongue. “Ah, love, I didn’t know you were having an awakening. Well, you’re in good hands. No one knows magic like the Greatdrakes. Come back soon for tea, Basset.”
“Only if you read my leaves,” he replied, and the old woman flushed with pleasure.
“You’re your father’s son, all right,” she said and turned to Bridget. “For Christ’s sake, get his number this time.” Marge bustled back inside, the bookstore door swinging shut behind her.
Bridget stared at him. “I think I’m going to need something stronger than coffee.”
