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As I step back to admit him and flip my sign to Open, Tynan shuffles in and studies me. “Tired, is it? Did lack of sleep give you those whisker burns on your neck?”
I flush hot and ignore his question. “You’re here early.”
He accepts my change of subject with a wry smile. “Celebrating. Since I can’t tell anyone else, I’ll let you in on another secret. I shouldn’t say anything to a human, but my family won’t understand and I’m bursting to tell someone…”
“You know me. Mum’s the word…”
“Indeed. I discovered recently that a group of magical warriors has banded together to fight Mathias. They’re calling themselves the Doomsday Brethren, and one of the Council members, Bram Rion, is secretly helming the group. I bullied my way into joining last night.”
“They didn’t want you?”
“They assumed my loyalties lie with my grandfather, who is also a Council member, and that I would be opposed to Bram’s vigilante justice.”
“So you blackmailed them?”
He dishes me a grim smile. “Indeed. They’ll learn soon enough that I’m loyal to anyone determined to kill Mathias.”
“It sounds dangerous, but I hope that brings you peace.” I squeeze his hands.
When Tynan opens his mouth to reply, the bell above the door trills. In walks the biggest, baddest leather-clad man I’ve ever seen. He’s got long, midnight hair and a bad attitude. Black sunglasses shield his eyes, but it’s clear he’s zeroed in on Tynan. “You O’Shea?”
Tynan shifts, putting me behind him. He looks braced for a fight. “What do you want?”
The other man slouches with a practiced air I don’t believe for a second. “Shock Denzell.”
“Denzell?” Tynan’s tone thickens with distrust. “You followed me here?”
“I hear you don’t like me.”
Tynan tenses. “I doubt you’re here because we won’t be best friends.”
Shock crosses his arms over his massive chest, his smile dark. “You interested in playing the hero or do you have another agenda?”
“Answering that question may be hazardous to my health. Despite the fact you’re supposedly one of the Doomsday Brethren, you Denzells have a long history of supporting Mathias.”
The scary stranger raises a brow. “Verbal diarrhea in front of the human?”
“She knows.”
Denzell flicks his disapproving gaze my way before ignoring me like lint on his sleeve. “So you don’t trust me because of my family. Do you always blame a son for his father’s sins?”
“Trying to convince me you’re not following family tradition?”
“I’m a bitter disappointment to Mummy and Daddy.” His mouth twists. “Why do you want Mathias dead?”
“Auropha MacKinnett was going to be my mate before Mathias raped and murdered her.”
Shock didn’t seem at all surprised. “Bram can use more blokes like you. Good luck staying alive.”
Is that a quip or a warning? I’m still trying to figure that out when Shock disappears—literally.
I’ve seen a bit of magic, but to watch it, someone here then gone… Wicked.
“Odd name, Shock,” I remark.
“From an even odder family. Lots of rumors that he’s half vampire or infected with darklust. No one knows for certain, but everyone gives him a wide berth.”
Half vampire? Darklust? I’m not entirely sure what all that means, and I’m not sure I want to. Magickind’s world is clearly complex, and maybe ignorance is bliss. Ronan shielded me from most of the details.
