I looked at him blankly. “It’s a wall, Max. What exactly do you want me to do with it?” Just as I finished that bitter little insult, the wall… well, it shifted. It happened abruptly, smoothly, too – kind of like a door opening. It went from being there one second, to not being there the next second.

  And it revealed? It revealed a bar.

  I knew my cheeks became pale, sallow, slack. I felt my heart quicken, felt sweat slick across my brow.

  Max didn’t give me the option to stand there and stare. He leaned forward, locked that same strong hand on my shoulder, and pushed me in.

  Despite the fact it was 9:30 in the morning, the bar was open. In fact, it was packed.

  Though we’d arrived here by magically selecting the right brick in a tiny laneway, the bar itself… it looked relatively normal. Or, at least the decor did. The patrons?

  I shivered. Boy, did I shiver. Tight, pulsing nerves raced up and down my back, seizing every muscle in turn.

  I had never seen a collection of such creepy looking people in my life. None of them overtly looked magical – there were no 10-foot-tall pixies dragging chains around. Nope, at first glance, they were human. At second glance? Oh, at second glance, the primal instincts of your brain kicked in, telling you to scream and run.

  The guy to my left was creepily tall, wore a massive leather jacket that ran all the way down to his scuffed leather boots, and had the kind of broad-chested body a professional wrestler would be proud of. But that was nothing whatsoever to mention his face. He had all the right features – eyes, chin, mouth, and nose – even if it looked as if his nose had been broken by a sledgehammer. And yet, his features didn’t quite work. It was as if they’d been painted there by Picasso.

  “You’re staring. Stop staring,” Max said as he leaned in and whispered into my ear.

  Though my heart wanted to tremble at his proximity, we didn’t have time. He pushed me in the small of my back, and I let out the cutest little squeak as we shifted through the bar.

  Though I was just starting to learn about how magic felt, I swore I could sense it. Swore it was a faint crackle in the air, a distant hum as if a radio had been left on in a nearby room. Heck, I even smelled it – like melted candle wax, old incense, and snow.

  We pushed all the way through the bar, and I discreetly stared at all the patrons in turn. One of my grandmother’s journals had listed most of the various magical races, from witches to wizards, pixies to fairies, to seers. I imagined the three long-legged, stunning brunettes in the corner were witches. The creepy guys in long leather jackets with bodies that looked like bulls crossed with wrestlers – wizards. So that just left the guy to my right—

  He pushed up from his chair, turned hard on his foot, and shoved his hand towards Max. “Max, crap, is that really you? It’s been a long time.”

  According to my grandmother’s journals, fairies looked the most like humans. They didn’t feel like humans, though. The more you became acquainted with magic, the more you learned to feel its subtle vibrations, the more you appreciated that fairies existed in a different realm. Their magic was more direct, more powerful, and unlike witches and wizards, they could utilize every cell in their body to create power. Their magic tended to cost more, too – whether it be their memories, their mind, or their lifespan.

  Max looked put-out and even paled slightly. It was obvious he hadn’t been expecting an interruption. It was just as obvious that he knew this man, however, and just as obvious – to me at least – that they were not friends.

  Tell the other guy that, though. Because he shoved forward, reached a hand across, and clapped it on Max’s shoulder with a resounding thump, thump, thump.

  Then his gaze narrowed as he tilted his head towards me. “Friend?” he asked. He said friend, stressing the F with a hissing purr. Though the guy was measurably less creepy than the leather-clad wizards to my side, I stiffened as if somebody had run their fingernails up and down my spine.

  The guy was obviously a fairy. Or, at least he kind of looked like one.

  It took several seconds for Max to react. He spread a seriously fake, seriously forced smile over his lips. “Dimitri, it’s been a long time.”

  Maybe Max thought he was doing a good job of hiding his disdain for this Dimitri fellow, but it was as obvious as painting “I hate you” over his face in giant great big neon letters.

  Yet Dimitri, if he noticed, didn’t appear to care. Again, his attention flicked back to me as a curious smile spread across his lips. “What are you doing here?”

  The guy was looking right at me, so forgive me for thinking he was talking to me. I cleared my throat, awkwardly shrugged, and opened my mouth. I didn’t, however, get a chance to speak.

  Max gave a small, quiet growl that couldn’t travel, and appeared to accidentally bump into me with his shoulder. “Here for a good time,” he said.

  Here for a good time? Not only did his tone and stance suggest that he was looking for a baseball bat to bop Dimitri on the head with, but who on earth said that? Well, apart from drunk guys at 3 o’clock in the morning?

  Dimitri got a confused look, again letting his gaze flick towards me. “Well, the bar’s that way.” He gestured behind him with his thumb.

  The guy had a deep Russian accent and rolled his Rs. Yet his accent wasn’t nearly as thick as Max’s. From the little I’d managed to find out about fairies, I knew they could live for a seriously long time. Perhaps Dimitri had come over here a couple of decades ago and had managed to smooth away most of his accent. Or, heck, maybe he’d come over several hundred years ago – apparently, fairies could live for almost a millennium.

  As I shifted my gaze towards Max, I wondered just how old he was. Fairies tended to live for as long as they had purpose, whether it was revenge or protection. The more determination they had to get something done, the more years they lived.

  Though I’d become thoroughly distracted by the prospect of searching for the heart murderer when I’d entered this bar, I realized this was an opportunity.

  Dimitri seemed to know Max. Despite the fact Max had shoved into me and pushed me out of the way, I cleared my throat and stepped to the side. “Are you Max’s friend?” I asked.

  I felt Max’s deadly gaze slice towards the back of my neck.

  Dimitri? He clearly saw an opportunity, pushed forward, plucked up my hand, and shook it before I even realized what he was doing. He obviously had the same speed and agility Max did. Except Dimitri was smoother.

  As I let him do all the shaking, I swore I felt a little magic. While Max’s was fiery and felt like grasping a lightning bolt, Dimitri’s was….

  Max cleared his throat, reached forward, and locked to hand on my shoulder. “It’s good to see you, Dimitri. Unfortunately, we can’t stay.”

  Dimitri sliced his gaze towards Max but didn’t let go of my hand. He was done shaking, and we were thoroughly into the truly awkward stage when people hold your hand for entirely too long.

  Max didn’t shift his hand, either. Nor did he shift his rather deadly gaze off Dimitri. “I’m afraid we have to go now,” he repeated.

  “Who are you, anyway? And how did you fall in with a fairy like Max?” Dimitri returned his attention to me.

  I was now regretting having taken the initiative to question this fellow. Because he still wouldn’t let go of my hand. I politely tried to take a step backward, but his fingers were like glue as they stuck around mine. All the while, Max didn’t shift his hand from my shoulder. I felt like a doll two kids were fighting over.

  “What brings you to town, anyway, Dimitri?” Max smoothly changed the topic of conversation.

  Was it just me, or did Dimitri’s affable smile stiffen? It was only for half a second, and you had to be staring at him with as much concentration as I was. But his jaw certainly twitched, and his eyes definitely narrowed a fraction. “Work? And you?” Dimitri ticked his gaze towards Max, but it quickly returned to me in a flash. “Is this work? Or play?”

  Eww. Okay, there was now no question that this guy was a jerk. Who the heck looked into somebody’s gaze and asked if they were play?

  Max hesitated, and it wasn’t because he was trying to be polite. Nope. One look at his expression, and it was clear he was trying to control his anger. “Neither.” He pulled me back, and his move should have been sufficient to break Dimitri’s grip. If Dimitri hadn’t taken a step forward to keep his sticky, firm fingers wrapped around my own.

  Holy crap, this had been a mistake. I should have done exactly what Max had suggested and stuck by his side, being as quiet as a little mouse hiding from the cat.

  Max’s expression now stiffened to the point it looked as if his features had been cast from concrete. “Is there any reason you can’t seem to let go of Chi’s hand?” he asked.

  A grin cracked across Dimitri’s face as fast as a fracture shifting through ice. “It’s Chi, ha? Cute.” He returned his gaze to me.

  My stomach did a flip and then twisted as if it were being sucked down a gurgling drain. And no, it wasn’t a pleasant sensation. It wasn’t the same kind of kick it did whenever Max drew close. Nope – just the opposite. My creep-alarm was suddenly blaring with everything it had.

  I now tried harder to pull my fingers from Dimitri’s grip. “Can I have my hand back now?” I even squeaked.

  Dimitri just ignored me as he returned his piercing, calculating gaze to Max. “You know, I didn’t think you’d show up again for a while – not considering what happened with your last charge.”

  Dimitri returned his attention to me. It was different this time. It wasn’t lecherous. It wasn’t even creepy. Nope. It was intense like his eyes had turned into two lasers and they were trying to bore through my skull. Despite the intensity, what he’d said struck me.

  Did Dimitri know how my grandmother had died? Max had forgotten, apparently a consequence of overusing his magic to protect my grandmother in her final moment.

  My thoughts happened in flashes, and I quickly reminded myself that I seriously needed my hand back from this creep.

  I planted my feet, shored up my shoulders, and yanked my hand. At the exact same moment, Dimitri let go. The result was I slammed hard into Max’s chest.

  Max certainly didn’t push me back. In fact, he kept his hand on my shoulder, shifting it down until it pressed further over my arm, the tips of his fingers tantalizingly close to my chest. It was almost as if he were pinning me to his torso like an embrace from behind.

  On any other day, that would have exhilarated me. Now, I had to stop myself from turning around, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and begging him to get me out of here.

  “Well,” Dimitri shifted back and leaned against the bar, “I’ll be seeing you around.” As he said that, he looked directly at me. Then he turned, shoved a hand into his pocket, and pulled out a loop of keys. They couldn’t have been for his car and house – not unless he had 100 cars and 100 houses. The keyring was megalithic. It jangled like an orchestra.

  I felt Max stiffen as Dimitri selected one of the keys. Now I paused to stare, I realized they all looked the same. Ornate, carved brass keys with blue and red baubles set on the top.

  They were familiar, and my gut kicked with unpleasant recognition. I’d seen a key like that before. And it had belonged to a truly odious man. Farley. He’d used one of those keys on the back door in Fagan’s bar to transport me away.

  “That’s a hell of a lot of transport keys,” Max commented, voice dark, even though it was clear he was trying to use all his control to keep his tone even.

  Dimitri grinned, the smile spreading all the way across his broad, handsome face. “Sure is. They’re perfect for when you need to get somewhere in a hurry. Anywhere, in fact. These are better than having your own private jet plane.” He jangled them, selected one, leaned forward, finished off his drink, and wiped his mouth in a smooth move. “Anyway, I’ll see you around.” He shifted past, so close that his arm brushed up against mine. Though the interaction was brief, it was long enough for me to feel just how defined his strong muscles were. He had a physique like Max’s, except Dimitri had an even broader chest and was an inch or two taller. His arm brushing up against mine felt like I was trying to shoulder a bull.

  Dimitri walked away, hands in his pockets, his keys jingling.

  He reached one of the doors at the back of the bar, plucked one of the keys up, shoved it in the lock, and opened the door.

  I craned my neck to the side to catch a glance of where he was transporting to. I saw a flash of a long dark corridor with chairs stacked by the walls.

  A business of some sort?

  The door closed quickly, and I could see no more.

  … Which just left me pinned against Max’s chest. Now the creepy Dimitri had retreated, I was free to appreciate just how nice it felt to be as close to Max as his T-shirt.

  It didn’t last. He shoved me forward. Then he leaned in, drawing his face close to my ear. “That was stupid. You shouldn’t have said a word.”

  Instantly, my natural indignation flared. “That wasn’t my fault,” I spat back. “I couldn’t break his grip! He was holding onto my hand like a vice.”

  Max paused, and though I could only see a slice of his face out of the corner of my eye, it was enough to appreciate that he softened. “I’m not talking about that. You shouldn’t have interacted with him at all.”

  “I’m sorry, but you hardly prepared me for this situation, did you? You lured me here—” I began.

  Max straightened up. “Enough,” he said in a low, gruff voice. “We don’t have time,” he defaulted to saying.

  How very nice. Was he going to use that excuse to get out of every conversation now?

  Max was quick now. He didn’t linger as we walked through the bar. Instead, he walked with determined purpose until we reached the same door Dimitri had exited through. Max hesitated before he reached a hand out. In fact, he did something odd. I watched him open his mouth and saw his tongue curl and press against the top of his teeth. I heard him whisper something in that strange language he used whenever he was accessing his magic.

  I felt a charge of power. It was subtle, barely there, and yet unmistakable as it tingled through the air.

  He brushed his finger back and forth against the handle then jammed one of his short nails into the lock. Was this the magical equivalent of forensics? Was he trying to figure out where Dimitri had gone?

  I didn’t get my answer. A second later, Max stopped abruptly and thrust the door open.

  I kind of expected that it would lead back into that chair-lined darkened hallway. It didn’t. It led into the corridor beyond.

  He walked through. When I didn’t follow immediately, he leaned forward, latched that same hand on my same shoulder, and shoved me in with him. He closed the door then turned to me. “Do I really need to remind you how serious this situation is?” he snapped.

  There were so many ways I could respond to that – so many insults I could dream up. I could point out that this was all his fault. I could whirl on my heel, stalk away, and tell him to investigate this on his own time. Heck, I could just try to slap him and use that to communicate my disgust. I didn’t do any of those things, though. I just frowned. “Where did Dimitri go? I saw a flash of a hallway—”

  Max grumbled. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It clearly does. You obviously know that guy, and you obviously hate him,” my voice rang on the word hate as I tried to emphasize it with the vocal equivalent of an exclamation mark. “He’s a fairy, too, isn’t he?”

  Max looked as if he would ignore me but soon set his lips into a grim line. “It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that you stay away from him, understand?”

  I spluttered. “No. You haven’t told me—”

  “Fine, you want to know why you should stay the hell away from Dimitri?” Max’s eyes flashed with a warning.

  I gulped.

  “I may lose my memory when I practice strong magic, but Dimitri….”

  “… Dimitri what?”

  His gaze locked on me with all the force of ropes. “Dimitri loses his control. The more he practices, the crueler he gets, the crazier he gets, the less he can see reason. So you stay away from him, you got it?”

  I paled, and it took a heck of a long time to find the energy to nod.

  Silence spread between us. Though Max clearly wanted to drop the conversation about Dimitri, suddenly I frowned. “Why… why did he have so many of those transport keys? Farley had one,” my throat tightened as I pushed his name out. “He gave me the impression they were expensive.”

  Max stopped growling. Maybe it was because of the raw emotion I’d shown as I mentioned Farley, or maybe it was something else.

  He gritted his teeth. “They are expensive. Extremely expensive. They are also hard to get hold of. You need to have… contacts.”

  My lips scrunched up, and my nose crinkled, but it wasn’t a sneer – just a wince. “Contacts?”

  He hesitated and nodded low. “An ordinary fairy might be able to get their hands on one or two. But he had…” Max trailed off.

  “Hundreds,” I finished quietly. I felt itchy. Thoroughly itchy. Hot, too. These were not pleasant sensations, though. It wasn’t my body reacting to Max’s presence again. Instead, I swear it was a sense of foreboding. It wasn’t as crystal-clear as when I saw the future. Fireflies of sparking light were not charging across my field of view. That didn’t matter, though. The sensation was just as undeniable. Something told me Dimitri would be back, and those hundreds of transport keys would return to haunt us.

  Max didn’t seem to be willing to say anything more on the matter, and soon I fell into step behind him, appreciating just how tense his shoulders were and just how angry that experience had made him.

  I didn’t have much longer to assess that thought – we arrived at a door.

  Once more, he hesitated. He appeared to take a stiff breath before he locked his equally stiff fingers around the handle and twisted it.

 

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