He’s asking about the fae.
“Nope.” I don’t give out any information for free. And I won’t be sucked in by his smile. I don’t know if this guy is a friend or foe to my father—and I don’t want him getting in more trouble. Mom banned him from going to the café, ever.
I don’t blame her. Dad refused to give up riding and hunting monsters to take her to faery when she was pregnant with me, and she’s never forgiven him. At this point, given that I’m twenty-two, I don’t think she ever will.
I sling a few more beers, and pour some shots, before the fae man shoves another bill at me. I pour him the same again. He puts the change in my tip jar again and goes back to watching the people like he’s waiting for someone…or something.
My skin prickles with knowing and I glance the crowd, trying to figure out what he’s sensing. I may not have been born in faery, but fae blood runs through my veins the same as his.
Questions burn my tongue. “Why are you here?”
He sips his drink, then tilts his head as if hearing something. I hold my breath, trying to hear it too, over the music and talking.
A ripple of something goes through the bar, like everyone is suddenly aware of the sound that isn’t quite there.
Then the room explodes into action. I didn’t see who threw the first punch, and it doesn’t matter once the first drop of blood hits the floor.
