usual. He motioned to the living room. “I’m not one for chatter like these two. I say what I need to in order to see important matters through. And right now the matters we’re facing give me no cause for happiness. The one who set me on this quest is lost, I was wrenched from my attempts to locate him for so long the trail has gone cold, and at any moment I might lose any of you as well—”
He stopped abruptly, his expression shuttering, as if he’d said more than he’d meant to. I’d definitely heard more than he’d actually said this time, but it hadn’t been derision. The undercurrent of pain and fear had been palpable.
He blamed himself for what had happened to Omen. He felt responsible for his companions—and for me—and no doubt he would beat himself up all over again if we got hurt.
I could have told you those things already, as facts, but I hadn’t grasped how deeply he felt that shame and commitment until just now. It wasn’t simply an abstract idea of loyalty he was following to the letter. He was truly worried—about whether we’d find Omen, and also about what might happen to me at the bar tonight, to Ruse and Snap if we didn’t unravel this mystery in time.
My own frustration simmered down. I still had the urge to give the guy a cheeky prodding and tease him into cracking a smile, but I could accept that it wasn’t going to happen. And why should it? I hadn’t felt like joking around or chatting or anything much besides lashing out when I’d first lost Luna.
“If you let yourself show a little more of that emotion from time to time, it’d be easier to take the grimness,” I said, without any bite. “I admire your dedication. It’s pretty impressive that you’re working so hard to keep us all safe. Maybe we’ve all been a little on edge for good reasons.”
His stance relaxed a smidgeon. “Perhaps.”
“Well, then all I can say is that I’ve been figuring out how to keep myself safe for twenty-seven more years than you have, so I hope you can trust that I’m the authority on the subject. And I can handle asking a few questions around Jade’s bar just fine like this.” I gestured to my clothes and then couldn’t resist arching an eyebrow. “I promise I won’t stay out past curfew.”
Ruse muffled what sounded like a snicker. Thorn sighed but inclined his head. And I reached for the front door with a sudden burst of nerves.
I’d been to Jade’s dozens of times. I’d never run into any real trouble there. But somehow as I walked out to the stairwell, I couldn’t shake the twist of anxiety that Thorn might be right to worry, and everything else might be about to go horribly wrong.
12
Sorsha
You’ve never seen a bar like Jade’s, guaranteed. And not just because of the shadowkind clientele—or the human clientele, who were pretty unique beings in their own right.
Jade had taken the name “fountain” very seriously—and literally. Filtered water streamed in a waterfall across the entire back wall in front of granite bricks sparkling with mica. It was totally drinkable, and Jade encouraged customers to refill their cups there to hydrate between cocktails and shots. She’d also set up a little knee-deep pool in the center of the space, framed by matching granite tiles and curved limestone benches. People used it as both a wishing well and, when they’d had enough to drink, a wading spot.
Features like that attracted a pretty unusual bunch, but that worked in Jade’s favor. It helped her and the inhuman customers, who had their own quirks no matter how well they’d adapted to mortal-side life, blend in with the rest.
Only about half of the limestone tables that stood at random intervals across the rest of the floor were taken when I stepped through the front door. The burble of the waterfall filtered through the upbeat chatter, and the sour tang of beer and spirits mixed perfectly with the mineral scent in the air. I dragged in a deep breath of it, letting it wash away the worst of my nerves. It was hard to feel all that stressed out at Jade’s.
My gaze didn’t catch on any explosion of tight curls or startlingly white outfit, so Vivi hadn’t turned up yet. For all her fastidiousness about her clothes, she wasn’t great at arriving on time.
That was okay. In fact, I’d been counting