“The fab five, back there?” I prompted when he remained silent.

Pike took an extra-long step, clenching in an unexpected pain. “None of your business.”

“Okay.” God, I was dripping blue water. Not exactly the impression I wanted to make as we strolled into Dalliance. If I was lucky, Dali would have a gangster theme going. That was the only way we were going to fit in with Pike bleeding the way he was.

Breathless, Pike came to an abrupt halt. “What’s your thinking?” he said, pain etching his face and his good hand gesturing at nothing. “Are you trying to kidnap me?”

I couldn’t help my grin. “Trying? I think I am.”

Pike’s expression emptied.

“Sorry. Bad joke,” I said, though kidnapping him was exactly what I’d done. “This was not my intention. But the I.S. would have taken me in under suspicion of whatever they felt like, and me running is better for everyone than me destroying Eden Park to get them to back off. You were bleeding out, and I kind of owed you one.”

“How do you figure that?”

I shrugged with one shoulder. “You saved me on the bridge. How come?”

Pike’s eyes narrowed, and then he blinked, remembering. He had shoved me out of the way of a knife thrown at him. “I didn’t like you taking my hit,” he said, and I nodded.

“Exactly. And if I left you on the bridge, the I.S. would have taken you to the hospital. Not a good place to be when someone is trying to kill you. Believe you me.”

Pike’s lip curled. Head down, he started forward again.

“I did you a favor, fang boy.” I jumped to follow, easing the gap between us.

“Fang boy?” Pike muttered, slowing as we reached the crest and looked down.

My smile returned as I saw the expected open-air restaurant nestled at the bottom of a perfectly round divot in the earth. The grass thinned to nothing, and there were no trees, just scrubby bushes. It looked how I’d imagine Mesopotamia might have been three thousand years ago. There were even some magic-derived camels tied to a highline, groaning and spitting.

The large area was already in the shade of the surrounding earth as the sun neared setting. It held several tents and fires, but it was the center I focused on, where the musicians drummed into the lengthening day. Bearded men who were really demons sat around it, waited on by who had better be a paid extra, not an indentured familiar. And they were singing, the unearthly sound mixing with the drums to send a shiver through me.

As if someone had flipped a switch, the drums ceased. The singing stopped, and, as one, the gathered demons turned to us, silhouetted against the blue sky at the top of the rise.

“Hey, hi!” I called loudly, making a stupid sort of a wave, and they looked away, heads leaning to one another and talking. About me, obviously. The drums made a thump-thump-thump and began again. The singing, though, did not.

Flushed, I looped my arm in Pike’s and tugged him into motion.

“Not exactly popular here, are you,” he said flatly.

“It’s been worse.” I leaned back to handle the steep incline. Beside me, Pike half stifled a groan. The grass became more sparse, shifted to dirt and finally sand. Even the air felt drier as we came under the influence of the magical restaurant, and my nose wrinkled at the stink of unwashed bodies and animals. Dali thought it important to maintain as close a tie to reality as possible at his multi-themed eatery, which sort of begged the question of what they liked about sand and camels when they could be in suits and ties, smelling of cologne and eating caviar.

I searched for Al’s disapproving glare, but he wasn’t here, and I sighed.

“Expecting someone?” Pike pushed my hand off his arm as we reached level ground.

“No.” I beamed at the demon waiting at the archway leading into the restaurant. He was either the host or the bouncer. Either way, I’d have to get past him, and he looked me up and down in disgust, safe in his dusty purple robe. “I know you’re a mess, but try to make a good impression, okay? It’s usually demons only, but they’re probably bored enough to make an exception for you.” I looked askance at Pike, seeing his ugly, pained look. “Can you smile a little? Pretend you’re my date, and we might get in.”

“Yeah, I’m always going out with women covered in blue water, stinking of duck shit,” he muttered, adding, “Those aren’t demons. They look like extras in a bad Arabian Nights movie.”

Damn it, they’d heard that, and red, goat-slitted eyes turned to us. My smile froze. “You know what? You really need to get off my case about how I look, smell, or act. You are a bloody, effing mess, Pike.”

Someone laughed, and my jaw clenched. Suddenly I knew how Newt must have felt. They had barely tolerated her, too, even if she could best every last one of them.

But Mr. Purple Robe was facing me, barring our way, and I forced a smile. “Good evening,” I said loudly as my boots squished to a halt. The word dalliance glowed in the dust hanging over the archway like a banner, sparkling and out of place. It was the only visible indication of magic, but I could feel it everywhere. “A pillow for two, please.”

“Hold up. Don’t let her in!” a loud voice demanded, and my hope both rose and fell when Dali pushed the host out of the way to bar our entrance. His arms went over his ample middle and his red, goat-slitted eyes narrowed. His robe was a flat brown, stained with dust and grease, but seeing as he was the cook, that was probably okay. “Go mind the roast. I’ve got this,” he said, and the bouncer nodded and left.

“Hi, Dali.” I drew Pike back a step and moved to stand before him with a sheepish determination. “Two, please. Somewhere at the bar, maybe?” My eyes went to where a handful of demons sat around a fire, using their hands to eat from overflowing bowls. “That’s the bar, yes?”

“What is that smell . . .” Pike said in disgust, and Dali stiffened.

“We call it lamb,” Dali said shortly. “You’re not sitting at the bar. But if you can manage to dress yourselves appropriately, I’ll find you somewhere in the kitchen turning the spit.”

My eyes narrowed, and I put a hand on my hip. “Look, you—”

“No, you look,” Dali interrupted, pushing forward until I backed into Pike, who swallowed a groan of pain even as he kept me from falling. “You know the rules. You either fit in, or you don’t come in.”

Several demons laughed, ticking me off. “Let her in, Dali!” one shouted. “It’s the first time the rain has quit in two days!”

Apart from the rain comment, the entire situation was eerily reminiscent of the first time Al had brought me to Dalliance, and I cringed.