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“There.” I pointed.
THE DARK SIDE O’ THE MOON
A carved wooden sign bearing the words swung back and forth, dangling by two ancient chains. It squeaked as it moved in the wind.
Even though there was no wind.
I squinted in the bright morning light, trying to see into the shadows of the open doorway.
This Dark Side was no different from the other nearly deserted bars in the neighborhood. Even from the street, I could hear voices echoing through the heavy door.
“People are in there this early?” John made a face.
“Maybe it’s not early. Maybe it’s late if you’re them.” I locked eyes with a scowling man who was leaning against the doorframe and trying to light a cigarette. He muttered to himself and looked away.
“Yeah. Way too late.”
John shook his head. “You sure this is the right place?”
For the fifth time, I handed him the book of matches. He held up the cover, comparing it to the logo on the sign. They were identical. Even the crescent moon carved into the wooden sign was an exact duplicate of the one printed on the matchbook in John’s hand.
“And I was so hoping the answer would be no.” He handed the matchbook back to me.
“You wish,” I said, kicking a stray piece of wet napkin off my black Chucks.
He winked at me. “Ladies first.”
CHAPTER 22
Bird in a Gilded Cage
It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the dim light, and even longer for the rest of me to adjust to the stench. It smelled like must and rust and old beer—old everything. Through the shadows, I could see rows of small round tables and a high brass bar, almost as tall as I was. Bottles were stacked on shelves all the way to a high ceiling—so high the long brass chandeliers seemed to dangle down from nowhere.
Dust covered every surface and every bottle. It even swirled in the air, in the few places where beams of light poked through shuttered windows.
John elbowed me. “Isn’t there some kind of Cast that can keep our noses from working? Like a Stinkus Lessus Cast?”
“No, but I can think of a few Shutus Upus Casts that might be applicable right about now.”
“Temper, Caster Girl. You’re supposed to be Light. You know, one of the good guys.”
“I broke the mold, remember? On my Seventeenth Moon, when I was Claimed Light and Dark?” I shot him a serious look. “Don’t forget. I’ve got my Dark side.”
“I’m scared.” He grinned.
“You should be. Very.”
I pointed to a mirrored sign on the paneling, right behind him. A silhouette of a woman was painted next to a row of words. “ ‘Lips that touch liquor shall not touch ours.’ ” I shook my head. “Clearly not the slogan of the Jackson cheer squad.”
“What?” John looked up.
“I bet this place used to be a speakeasy. A hidden bar during Prohibition. New Orleans was probably full of them.” I looked around the room. “That means there has to be another room, right? A room behind this room.”
John nodded. “Of course. Abraham would never hang out where anyone could walk into his hideout, no matter where it is. It was one thing all our homes had in common.” He looked around. “But I don’t remember a place like this.”
“Maybe it was before your time, and he came back here because it was somewhere no one currently alive could find him.”
“Maybe. Still, something feels off about this place.”
