He raised a hand and called, "Two menus, Dorrie."
Dorrie brought them over. "I'm part owner of this place, not your waitress, Magnus. Hurry it up."
"Don't forget that appointment I've got tonight, Dorrie." His voice was mild. She wasn't fooled.
"You aren't leaving me alone with these people. I will not..." She glanced at us. "I don't approve of lovers' night. You know that."
"I'll take care of everybody before I leave. You won't have to sully your morals."
She glared at all of us in turn. "You're leaving with them?"
"No," he said.
She turned on her heel and stalked back to the bar. The men who weren't paired off watched her swaying back, carefully, not staring until she couldn't see them.
"Your sister doesn't approve of abusing glamor?" I asked.
"Dorrie doesn't approve of a lot of things."
"She has morals."
"Implying I don't," he said.
I shrugged. "You said it, not me."
"She always this judgmental?" he asked Larry.
Larry nodded. "Usually."
"Let's just order our food," I said.
Larry smiled, but he looked down at the menu.
It was a laminated piece of paper printed on both sides. I ordered a cheeseburger, well done, house fries, and a large Coke. I hadn't had caffeine in several hours; I was running low.
Larry was frowning at the menu. "I don't think I could eat a hamburger right now."
"They've got salads," I said.
Magnus laid his fingertips against the back of Larry's hand. "Something swims up behind your eyes. Something... awful just behind your eyes."
Larry stared at him. "I don't know what you mean."
I grabbed Magnus's wrist and pulled him away from Larry. He turned his eyes to me, but there was more than just their color to make them hard to stare at. The pupil of his eyes had spiraled down like the eye of a bird. Human eyes just didn't do that.
I was suddenly very aware that I was still holding his wrist. I drew my hand away. "Stop reading us, Magnus."
"You wore gloves, or I'd be able to tell what you'd touched," he said.
"It's an ongoing police investigation. Anything you discern by psychic means must be held confidential, or you're liable just as if you stole information out of our files."
"Do you always do that?" he asked.
"What?"
"Quote the law when you're nervous."
"Sometimes," I said.