Chapter 1
Cass
“I’m going to kill him,” Isa said just loud enough to be heard over the blend of casual conversations and the hip-swinging beat drifting through the bar. She set her tray on the bar top’s smooth surface and braced her palms on either side as she leaned in. “I’m fairly certain his body will fit in my trunk.”
Unfazed by her friend’s violent streak, Cass topped a pair of ice-filled highball glasses with lime slices, to complement the dark rum and ginger beer, and snuck another look at the two men sitting at a nearby high-top. While Isa’s intended murder victim was a regular, his friend was new to the establishment and kept catching Cass’s eye. Lean muscle, messy brown hair, dark eyes, and an attractive scruff—put it all together, and you got a damn hot version of the boy next door.
Man next door, she amended silently as he caught her gaze and gave her a flirty grin. She quickly looked away, feeling heat bloom along her face. Turning back to the fuming woman in front of her, she warned, “You’d be less likely to get caught if you made it look like an accident.” She set the two Dark 'n' Stormy cocktails on Isa’s tray. “Gives you deniability when the Cordova Family comes around asking questions.”
Isa’s full lips, painted deep crimson, twisted into a feral smirk. “That, right there, is why we’re friends—because you’ve got all the angles covered.” She straightened but did a half turn so she could aim a glare at her nemesis, who lifted his bottle in a mocking toast. “I swear he comes in just to mess with me.”
Personally, Cass suspected there was something much more salacious behind Locke’s perverse attention, but she wasn’t going to share that suspicion with Isa. Not if she wanted to keep her head on her shoulders. When it came to Locke, her bestie wasn’t rational. It didn’t help that Locke wasn’t hurting for female approval, with his alluring ultra-light-blue eyes and hair a mix of browns and blonds in a shaggy cut, all wrapped up in an edgy bad-boy vibe. He was her best friend’s version of catnip.
Cass tapped the rune carved into the quartz screen next to the well, bringing up the next drink order. “You know, you could always ignore him,” she suggested as her hands moved by rote to set up four rock glasses.
“Yeah, tried that. Didn’t work.” Isa turned back to her. “Those mine?”
“Yep.” Cass made quick work of the jigger as she measured out the needed shots before adding the quartet to Isa’s tray. “Booth nine.”
“Got it.” Isa picked up her tray then wove her way across the floor to drop the drinks off, passing Locke’s table on the way.
The male in question followed the sway of Isa’s hips as she stalked by. Cass shook her head in amusement. Dear gods—she wished the two would just hop into bed already, but considering that Locke was a Hound for a powerful Arcane Family, it would be a frigid day in hell before Isa allowed that to happen.
A flicker at the back of the bar snagged her attention. It wasn’t much, just a shift of shadow along the back wall, but it left a sliver of unease crawling down her spine. When the movement came again, she narrowed her eyes and tried to see beyond the bar’s atmospheric lighting. As she stared, the wisp of shadow took on the shape of a small screech owl.
How the hell did that get inside the bar?
Before the question could finished forming, her mind stalled. Dread sank sharp nails into her heart, which stopped for a beat before it resumed, stronger than before. She locked eyes on the feathered omen as icy claws of foreboding seared through her veins. A burst of laughter from one of the patrons broke the strange staring contest, causing Cass to blink. She sucked in a hard breath, and when she looked back to where the owl had been, nothing but shadows remained.
You’re just tired. Her hands shook as she tried to convince herself it was nothing, but the little voice in the back of her mind cackled like a madwoman. As an Oracle, she knew better. Omens like that always meant something to people cursed with glimpses of the future.
“Hi there. Can I get a rum and coke?”
The request broke through her inner turmoil and snapped her back to the present. Cass faked a smile for the perky brunette standing on the other side. “Sure.”
She shoved the uncomfortable premonition into a dark corner, determined to keep her feet in the present as she juggled the multiple incoming drink orders. Maybe later she’d brave wandering those darker fields, but for now, there was work. Midweek might not be the most popular night for a downtown bar in Phoenix, but Wonderland was still admirably busy. What had started out as a unique bohemian underground pub with fantastic drinks, great service, and good food had morphed into an eclectic gathering place. At first, the majority of their customers had been the colorful creatives who drifted in at odd times for a break from their artistic muses, but somehow, word had spread to the various Arcane Guild members looking to kick back and relax, bringing in an edgier crowd. Then came the after-business-hours patrons in their tailored corporate best, wanting to hook up with the more exotic element not found in the land of cubicles. Now each night was an adventure waiting to happen.
Cass loved it—and loved even more the steadily increasing profits she, Isa, and Des shared. Working at Wonderland sure as hell beat the earlier years of wondering if they’d made a mistake by taking on the bar. In the beginning, the situation had been touch-and-go, but their little family of three had carved out a niche in the Arcane world, one they protected as fiercely as any Family did its territory. Unlike the powerful players, who relied on blood connections, their family was tied by choice, which in her opinion was massively preferable.
“Hey, Cass.” Leon, their part-time waiter and full-time college student, cleared his tray of empties. “The Long Island on table three wants a heavy pour.”
She double-checked the ticket number she was working and saw that Leon’s timing was spot-on. “Got it.” She finished up with the mojito and G&T then made quick work of the Long Island. “Heard anything on your internship yet?”
He shook his head. “Not yet, but it’s only been a couple of days.”
“I’m sure you nailed it.” She tucked the sprig of mint next to the lemon slice.
The drinks in front of her wavered and disappeared, replaced by an image of Leon working his way through the maze of metal and wires above a stage while directing another man to aim it more to the left. She tilted her head and blinked. The empty tray reappeared, and she set the drinks on it before meeting the hint of stress in his normally bright eyes.
“Don’t worry—you’re going to be fine,” she said.
His grin wavered a bit as he picked up his tray. “From your lips…” Then he was off to work the floor.
“How much do we have in our rainy-day fund?” The rumble of Des’s question came from her left as he set two long-neck bottles in front of a mismatched pair of Guild mages, who barely looked up from their conversation. He came to stand next to her and braced a hand on the bar, the overhead lights glinting off the silver rings on his thick fingers.
Cass followed the direction of his gaze to see that Locke had caught Isa by the wrist. “Not nearly enough.” There was no doubt Isa was a hair’s breadth away from committing murder. “I doubt they’d grant bail—not with this many witnesses.”
Des folded his arms over his broad chest, the movement turning his intricate ink into a fluid piece of art. “Think we have a chance in hell of convincing a judge it was a group hallucination?”
