“If you say so,” I say. The upside is, if the mountain man crushes him into powder, we’ll know if the time loop resets for Jasper’s death too or if it’s only for mine.
Though if he doesn’t come back, I’ll be alone in this thing, and the idea is surprisingly upsetting.
“So how long have you two known each other?” Max asks conversationally, and I drag my attention off Jasper.
“We only met today.”
“He’s a good boy. Sweet.”
“Sure,” I say, not really listening. Jasper’s speaking with the giant man. He puts a friendly hand on the massive shoulder, then slowly pulls it away when the man’s tennis ball–size eyes narrow in warning.
“I really am sorry about your mother. She was a great woman.”
Why is she harping on Mother? It’s been two years.
“She was,” I say, looking around for that server with our drinks.
“The Legendary Flame got me out of a few jams in our day.”
It takes a long time before her words settle in my brain. Out of all the shocks that have come at me today, somehow this one is the most horrifying. Time loops and repeated shocking and horrific deaths? These are problems to solve and issues to avoid. But someone who knows my mother’s real identity, even now after she’s dead?
That’s a serious failure. Outside of Vee, Ezekiel, and a few select agents at SPAM like April, no one should know who she really was.
Max is examining her nails, but she gives me a sly grin. “I won’t tell anyone, honey. But if I were you, as soon as Jasper’s done with Krusher over there, I’d make your way out. Your mother was very good at what she did, but I’m not the only one who knew her secrets. Dead or not, some people hold grudges a long time.” Max stands, tapping one nail on the table. “My lips are sealed. And stick with Jasper. He’ll keep you safe.”
I bristle on reflex. “I can take care of myself.”
Max’s smile turns wistful. “I’m sure you can, honey. I’m only saying that Jasper is?—”
Whatever Jasper is, I’ll have to find out some other time, because a roar sounds across the bar, and suddenly Jasper is flying through the air toward the darkened stage as the mountain bellows. Several other patrons have darted out of the way, but Jasper’s trajectory knocks over a few drinks, along with a few more drinkers, and they don’t seem very happy about it.
“Oh no, not again,” Max mutters next to me before she wades into the fray, sequins flashing.
But “again” is exactly what’s going on. The bar dissolves into chaos as a full-on brawl breaks out in a second. Fists fly, curses are shouted. I can’t see Jasper through the silver fringe where he landed, so I skirt along the edge of the room, ducking as a stray pint glass soars past where my head was a second ago. As I round the second table, Jasper is lying in a crumpled heap at the rear of the stage.
Great. Maybe we really will find out what happens if he dies.
I scramble along, keeping low. The fight around me is getting louder, like this whole place was a powder keg waiting for an excuse to blow. As I finally reach Jasper, he lifts his head. A cocktail napkin is stuck to his cheek, and his nose is bloody as he pulls the square of paper away.
“Safe to say Krusher and I did not come to an understanding.” His charming smile is less charming when his lip is split.
I roll my eyes. “Can we get out of here?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
I go to lead him back the way I came, but he takes my hand and starts to pull me toward the seething throng of warring henchmen.
“It’s faster this way,” he says.
“It’s safer that way.” I point toward the door that must lead to the kitchen.
Jasper shakes his head. “You haven’t met Max’s cook. He doesn’t take kindly to unexpected visitors in his workspace.”
Fine. Sure. Whatever. We can’t be more than fifty feet to the door. If we stay down and avoid Krusher, we can get out of this, right?
Surprisingly, people mostly leave us alone. We get jostled around, but as long as we don’t make eye contact, people seem more intent on fighting the people in front of them than us.
“What about Indigo?” I ask as we approach the exit.
