Cassia nodded reluctantly.
“You also told us you know the vampire who attacked us years ago,” I said.
“No, I was wrong about that.”
That was a lie. Lu stilled beside me.
“I would prefer the truth.” I held the witch’s gaze. I didn’t know what she saw in mine, but she broke first.
“I wasn’t wrong about it,” she said. “I told you that—I lied on purpose—so you would come here. So you would bring the Moon Rabbit here. But I don’t want to complicate things. You,” she pointed at me, then Lula, “are complicated.”
“And you don’t think Abbi is?” Lula asked.
“Oh, I’m not,” Abbi said. “I mean, I’m not what I look like, but I’m super simple.”
Abbi might think she was what she seemed to be—an adventuresome, slightly silly, sugar-loving child—but I’d seen her march alone into battle against an army of Hush and walk away without a scratch.
“Who did you lose?” Lula asked.
Cassia startled but covered it quickly.
“It was in your spell,” Lula went on. “Who is the child you lost, and why are you asking Abbi to get her back?”
“That is not your concern.”
Abbi touched the back of Cassia’s hand.
“You need them, Elder,” she said. “You don’t think you do, but I can see. It’s why you came looking for us. It’s why you fixed Brogan’s arm. It’s why you invited us here.”
Jerry put on a new song with a slow beat that reminded me of distant thunderstorms. The other witches chatted and sipped drinks, eating a variety of surprisingly normal bar foods. Most of them turned to sneak glances at our table like we were newlyweds at a reception.
They wanted to join us but, out of respect, were giving us space.
Cassia sat back. After a moment, she waved at the man behind the bar, and he strolled over to the table. He was slight, but muscular, a single streak of white cutting through his short, dark hair from just above his pierced eyebrow.
“We might as well order,” she said. “I know I need a drink. Wine, please, Stratton. Moon Rabbit?”
“Do you have grass soda?”
“I’m afraid we don’t,” he said.
“That’s okay. Do you have something with cherries in it?”
“That, I can do.” His gaze flicked to me.
“Beer,” I said. “Dark, if you have it.”
“We do. And you?” he asked Lula.
“Wine. Whatever red you have.”
He nodded. “Would anyone like something to eat?”
“More cookies?” Abbi asked.
He grinned. “Pru should be back in a minute, Your Glory.”
“Oh.” Abbi smiled wide.
