“Ideas and connections.” Turning my laptop so he can see the window I have open, I press Play on the bluesy country music artist whose website I’m finishing up. “He’s going to Atlanta, then to Greenville. I could ask if he wanted to swing by here on his way.” We’re not directly on that path, but I’m betting a musician hustling for gigs wouldn’t mind adding an extra hour or two to his route for a chance to play. “It’d probably be a weeknight.”
Griffith braces his forearms on the bar, leaning closer to my laptop. “I like how he sounds. And a weeknight would be better anyway. Bring in more customers if we’ve got something special to offer.”
My grin is all smugness. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
The wolf’s eyes drift from the screen to my face. “You fixin’ to be Local Brews event coordinator?”
“Not until I finish my job of being your website manager. Local Brew’s online presence is pathetic.”
Griffith tries to frown, but a smile wins out in the end. “Kind of like how you’re taking over. You gonna start brewing next?”
“Nah. I’ll leave that to you.” I reclaim my laptop. Then—expertly covering up how the move sends a jab of pain through my side—I lean over the bar to give his cheek a lingering kiss. “You just let me handle your PR. I’ll make Local Brew a destination.”
We probably would have kept flirting if a group hadn’t walked up to the bar just then, looking to get served. Griffith gives my hand a quick squeeze before stepping away, and I sit in my buzzing happiness, riding the high of successfully pitching my ideas.
I was pretty sure I could get Griffith invested in the idea, but still, it’s a confidence builder that he agreed right away. Didn’t make a single comment about my follow-through or express doubt about me being able to make good things happen. So much different from when I first stumbled into this bar and he met me with animosity.
He’s also done a full turnaround with Shrimp. My pup now has a massive dog bed in Griffith’s office. Shrimp tends to wander back there on nights like this when the crowd grows large enough that he’s in danger of getting stepped on. I make a mental note to take him out for a bathroom break in the next half hour or so.
The fiddly work of designing one of my client’s webpages distracts me so much that the world around me turns to white noise. I don’t even fully register when someone sits on the stool beside me until they talk.
“Hello, Clementine.”
I glance up from my laptop, the voice tugging on a memory that I don’t fully recall until I meet the eyes of the person who approached me.
“I really like you, Clementine.”
That’s what he said to me just before we stepped out of the concert venue. Right before we came face-to-face with his hunter buddy.
The last sentence he spoke to me before I had to run for my life.
Sitting next to me like nothing is wrong is Luke.
The hunter.
Adrenaline soaks my brain as I shove back from the bar, slide off my stool, and throw my fists up in front of me as if we were about to box.
The place is full of patrons. Magical ones. Easy pickings for a hunter.
So, why did he reveal himself to me?
I don’t know. I’ve never known why Luke interacted with me the way he did. We went on multiple dates before the night I got injured. Plenty of times he could have kidnapped me and sold me to a sorcerer for fuel.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” he says.
But I don’t believe him.
29
GRIFFITH
There’s something wrong.
I’m on the opposite side of the bar from Clem, my hands busy pouring drinks, but something has me setting the glass down hard and searching for her. Maybe it was a noise or a shift in her scent. I can’t pinpoint exactly what the alert was, but I know she’s not okay anymore.
I abandon my customers, take a couple of steps, and there she is, poised in a fighting stance. Without thought, I leap over the bar top and rush to her side, searching for the enemy who has her on high alert.
My attention settles on a guy sitting on a barstool. He’s fit, got a bit of a beard, and intricate tattoos creeping up his neck and down to his knuckles. The way he sits on the stool and watches Clem seems curious rather than aggressive.
