“Is mine twenty, too?” Mick asked, shakily standing from his stool. He dug his hand into his pocket before bumping against the wall.

“Thirty-two,” Liam said without reflection. Apparently, he just called out arbitrary numbers.

“Well, Miles, it was great catching up,” Bria said, standing behind her stool. “I hope the burns from the candlewax healed up okay.”

“A-Alexis, come on.” Miles ran a hand down his face, trying to ignore Bria and get his bearings. He had his work cut out for him. “You don’t need to leave in a huff. Just because you had a couple drinks a while back with Dem—”

I magically punched through his middle, smacking his spirit box to keep him from saying Kieran’s name. I should’ve known he’d bring it up. He was probably jealous to no end.

Miles jerked hard and fell against the bar. His face lost the rest of its color and his expression closed down into terror as he grabbed his chest. “Help!” he bleated. “Help me!”

“Holy—” Bria grabbed him around his chest and wrestled him onto the stool. Mick paused for a moment with a wad of crumpled-up bills in his hand. The very disgruntled old man ghost dissipated with a scowl. “You okay, man?” Bria asked. “What happened?”

“My…” He scratched at his chest. “I think I’m having a heart attack. Call… Call someone.”

“Just let it take you,” Mick said, laying out a couple green balls of money. “Go with it. It’ll hurt less.”

“Would you stop?” I asked Mick, unable to hide a smile.

“It’s probably a panic attack. You’re fine.” Bria patted Miles’s back and stepped away. “C’mon, Mick, we’ll walk you home. Power in numbers. We wouldn’t want the little beasties of life to get us.”

“Shut up,” I seethed through gritted teeth, shoving Bria toward the door. This whole situation was spiraling out of control. The woman would know we were on to her for sure. “Just go.”

I gingerly left my money on the counter, including a generous tip, before tucking my wallet back into my handbag and following Bria.

The woman at the end of the bar touched her cross-body bag as the bar door swung open. I held my breath, only to let it out again when a crew of barely legal guys and girls tramped in. Laughter and noise quickly filled the bar to bursting. The group of ten stumbled toward the bar, already drunk before seven in the evening. It would be a messy night. Thankfully, I wouldn’t be a part of it.

“Hold on,” Mick said, rolling a few more dollar balls onto the bar’s surface.

“This night keeps getting weirder,” I muttered as I glanced back at him. Since when did he leave before having his fill of whiskey, followed by a nap on the counter? And since when did he accept someone’s offer to walk him home?

When I stepped outside, the cool air and soft crush of the distant waves welcomed me, coating me in comfort. I’d always liked the sound of the sea, but after bumping souls with Kieran, it downright sang to me. I wanted to frolic in the waves and dive down into the mysterious depths.

“Why’d you sucker punch Miles?” Bria asked, stepping to the side and waiting for our drunken escort.

“I’m pretty sure he was about to say that I’d had a couple drinks with Kieran. Which I did.”

“Ah.” She nodded before bending over her phone. “Good reaction, then.”

“Miles really took that hard,” I whispered, thinking back. “I only used a sliver of magic, and he nearly collapsed.”

“We keep trying to tell you—your magic is startling. It’s arresting. The first impulse is to curl up in a tight ball and protect your middle. Even your overprotective lover feels that way, and he’s at the pinnacle of power.”

The door swung open and Bria braced herself, hands at her sides, probably ready to dip down and grab the knife out of her ankle brace. If the woman had followed us out this quickly, we were looking at a fight.

6

Alexis

Like Frankenstein’s monster, Mick took a hard step on shaky legs, lumbering out into the encroaching night. A loud exhale deflated my lungs.

“I thought you’d never get out of there,” Bria said, starting forward. “I was about to leave you behind.”

“Had to dig out those last two dollars,” Mick grumbled. “Those Kerry men are as tight… If the Titanic were that tight, it wouldn’t’ve gone down, boy! They’re that feckin’ tight, boy.”

I knew he meant tight-fisted. Clearly the huge discount he had already gotten wasn’t enough. He’d wanted to stop at paying thirty.

I pushed it out of my mind as we crossed the street, hurrying in front of an approaching car. This was the moment of truth. We’d left the bar, and we were moving slow. It would be easy for the woman to follow us, and just as easy for her to catch up and engage. I was pretty sure we could take her, but what if she had left the bar earlier to organize reinforcements?

A horn blared, making me jump. I turned around just in time to see Mick stagger out of the way of the oncoming car, nearly clipped by the bumper. “Ah, ya cheeky fucker, ya,” he mumbled before pinging off the front of one parked car and then the back of another.

He stepped up onto the curb but hadn’t lifted his foot high enough. His toe hit cement and his weight pitched forward. He slammed into a parking meter.

“Ya feckin’ ol’ bag!” he hollered. I wasn’t sure if he knew he’d hit an inanimate object.

Bria laughed as I caught movement near the bar.

The door slowly swung shut. There wasn’t a soul in sight, though there was one on my radar. Whoever had just walked out had slipped into the shadows at the side of the building.

“She’s out,” I whispered. “I can’t be sure it’s actually her, but who else would it be?”

“It’s her,” Bria said quietly before stubbing her toe and jogging forward to catch her weight. “She nursed that one beer the whole time while listening into our conversation. If it’s Valens, he must be grasping at straws. Clearly he sent a lackey.”

“She’s powerful, though.”

“I don’t know what her day job is, but it ain’t spyin’.”

The soul moved, coming up the other side of the street. I barely kept from looking.

“We’re being followed,” I said, my mouth going dry.

“Okie dokie.” Bria rubbed her hands together as Mick finally caught up to us. “Her efforts are laughable, but being a target is interesting, at least, so let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Why can’t you take anything seriously?” I muttered as my heart sped up.

“Are you kidding? I could write a book on this. It would be called So, you’re being followed. Sub-title: Tips and tricks to keep you alive.”

Mick snickered.

“First thing is,” she said, “and this goes doubly for you, Lexi, because Mick is much too drunk to be afraid—don’t panic.”

“Working on it,” I said. My stomach flipped over. “Crap, I never got a chance to text Kieran.”

“Second thing is, figure out who the primary target is.”

“’S you,” Mick slurred. “She kept lookin’ at ya. Worst spy I’ve ever seen, boy.”

“Shhhh,” I said, making a shut-the-hell-up gesture with my hand.

“What?” he asked, his voice ringing out across the quiet street.

“Third thing is, figure out how the primary target should engage.”

“I thought you said not to engage,” I said, monitoring the soul across the street. The woman was a ways behind us, keeping our slow pace instead of overtaking us. Given the distance, I doubted she could hear anything other than Mick’s random shouts.

“I’m pretty sure I said not to freak out. I really don’t remember saying anything about not engaging. If you’d contacted that lover of yours, then we’d know for sure. As it is, I’ll have to make an educated guess.”

“No, no.” I pulled out my phone. “I’ll text him right now. See look: spy came to the bar. She’s now following—”

“It’s good. I got this.” Bria rolled her shoulders and veered around a sidewalk sign a business had left out.

“Liquid courage,” Mick said. “Just tell me where the—what da fuck?”

A loud crash made me whip around, just in time to see a fallen Mick pulling the sidewalk sign down on top of him. He lashed out, swinging a wild fist, missing the object directly above him.

“Good call, waiting for him,” I said, risking a glance at the other side of the street.

A flicker of movement caught my eye, but I didn’t dare look harder. I could feel her there, waiting. Watching.

“Let’s get moving,” I murmured.

“Yup.” Bria ripped the sidewalk sign away from Mick and put out her hand to pull him up. “Let’s split up.”

“Terrible idea,” I said, my thumbs flying across the screen of my phone. “You’ve had a lot to drink. You’ll make poor decisions.”

“I had a lot to drink so I wouldn’t make poor decisions, actually. It’ll muddle my cat-like reflexes. Now I’m down to her level while pleasantly buzzed. It could be worse.”

The person moved, creeping a little closer. Nearly within earshot. “Where do you live, Mick?” I asked a little louder than necessary.

Bria cocked her head, clearly picking up on my signal. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, then shrugged. “Still can’t feel her,” she whispered.

Dawning understanding made my thumbs still. “Would she know a class-five Necromancer’s range for feeling souls?”

Bria’s eyes narrowed as Mick struggled to his feet. “Probably,” she said. “Even a useless spy or assassin would know that much. Zorn can mark the distance to within half a foot. She’s probably just gauging a rough estimate, if she’s thinking of it at all.” Bria clapped Mick on the back and raised her voice. “All right, buddy, which way are you going? I’ll escort you home and make sure no sidewalk signs mug you.”