The man chuckled and pointed a thick, stubby finger at me. “Seein’ as I know everyone in this town, I’m gathering you’re new.”
“I am. Just found this place today. I’m?—”
“Nope. Don’t give a shit what you are, son. If you’re in the Cove, it’s because you’re supposed to be. Ain’t my place to pry.” The man shook his head, his thin nostrils flaring from his broad nose. “But I will let you in on a secret.” He motioned for me to get closer, scanning around us.
Obliging him, I bent forward, turning my ear to him.
“Finneas’ there got the best whiskey in town. But don’t go tellin’ Dion I said that.” The man chuckled and patted my shoulder.
Considering I couldn’t be certain who the freezing hells this Dion was, all I could do was offer a grin. I eyed his fingers on my shirt before leaning back. “Secret’s safe with me.”
“Alright then, newcomer, go on, get. Enjoy your drinks.” The man all but shoved me toward the pub, and I adjusted the neckline of my shirt before walking inside.
If you’re in the Cove, it’s because you’re supposed to be.
Sighing, feeling defeated before the day had even started, I sulked once I entered. Warmth immediately crashed over me in waves from every corner, the worst of it wafting from a raging hearth against the opposing wall. Holding my hands up to it, already feeling my insides boiling, I found a table the furthest away from it and plopped into a chair.
A tall minotaur with a gold hoop nose ring, wearing a brown leather apron, prominent tan long horns, and a sprouting of dark brown messy hair atop his head, approached. He rested a grey cocktail napkin on the table in front of me. “What can I get ya?”
“Finneas, I presume?” I snatched the napkin, tearing tiny slits around the edges.
“That’s right. Haven’t seen you around here. You new?”
After forcing myself to stop fidgeting and resting the napkin back on the table, I leaned back in my chair. “Yeah, but just passing through.”
“Oh, yeah? You staying at the inn? Selene makes the best breakfast in town for her guests in the morning,” Finneas patted his stomach, the ring through his nostrils lifting as he smiled.
Uncomfortably pulling my collar away from my neck, I adjusted in my seat. “You may find this hard to believe, but I seek lesswarmingaccommodations.”
Finneas stared at me for a beat before shivering and chuckling. “Yikes. Sorry about that. Got a chill up my spine for some reason. I don’t know why, considering how toasty it is in here.”
The chill had come from yours truly—my subtle attempts at cooling the place off before I sweated through my jeans. “Itisthat time of year.”
“Right you are. I love winter.” Finneas propped his hands on his hips, drumming his fingers there. “How about a hot toddy? To warm your bones from the frigid temperature?”
“No,” I blurted, clearing my throat after gauging his shocked expression. “I was told the whiskey here is the best. Can I get a double on the rocks? Lots and lots of rocks? Maybe extra in a separate glass?”
Finneas gave me a quizzical side eye before nodding. “Sure thing. Be back in a jiff.”
Stretching my legs beneath the table, I twirled my iron thumb ring and glanced at the surrounding patrons talking, laughing, and enjoying their beverages. There was a succubus in the lap of her current male victim, a pixie sitting by herself but scrolling on her phone and nursing a steaming cup of something,and a group of male demons chuckling and shoving each other on the shoulders, their spade tails flicking back and forth.
“Here we are,” Finneas announced, resting the two tumbler glasses on the table. “That’ll be ten lyyke.”
Wincing, I shoved my hand in my pocket, making a gold coin from my palace appear before slipping it out. “I’m afraid this is all I have. I wasn’t familiar with your currency before arriving.” I slapped the coin on the table in front of him.
Finneas’ eyes grew as wide as snowballs before taking the coin. “Are you sure? This would mean a pretty damn big tip, friend.”
“I’ll tell you what, you tell me everything you know about one of the citizens here and we’ll call it square.” Using my boot, I slid a chair from the table, gesturing toward it.
Finneas let out a hearty chuckle, pressing a hand over his stomach. “Maurice, cover the bar for me for a bit, will ya?”
A man who looked like half of an insect waved a clawed hand at him from the bar.
“So,” Finneas started, groaning as he sat down, his knees cracking. “Who are you curious about?”
I took a quick sip of the whiskey and popped an ice cube in my mouth to chew. “The bakery owner. Sylvie?”
“Ah, Sylvie? One of the brightest stars in all the Cove, if you asked me.”
