“Convenient,” I say. “I assume he’s suspect number one.”
“Eastman and Quintana are grilling him now,” he says. “They’ve implemented curfew.”
“And I see you’re all following orders, as usual,” I say. “Where’s Casey?”
“We didn’t see her,” Stevie says. “But guys, seriously. I don’t think the manager did it. Think about it—who has the most to gain from blowing up a bar with no one in it? In a controlled explosion, where no one got hurt?”
“No idea,” Ani says.
“He didn’t do it,” Stevie says. “This has magick attack written all over it. Either someone got to him, or the whole thing was a setup.”
“To what end, though?” Baz asks. “No one got hurt.”
“To scare the shit out of us and use it as leverage to take away more freedoms,” she says, and the rest of the pieces fall into place.
“You think APOA is behind it?” I ask.
“Think about it,” she says. “Agent Quintana said Eastman was pushing for a curfew as well as cutting off travel. They want us all locked up and scared.”
“But why?” I ask. “Just so they can complete their investigation?”
“That doesn’t add up,” Ani says. “They’re investigating magickal attacks on students. Why would they stage another one, just so they could keep investigating what they’re already investigating?”
“But if it’s not APOA, that leaves who?” Baz asks. “The other attacks were actual attacks. People got hurt, or got their magick stripped. This was just… theatrics. Scare tactics.”
“Something isn’t adding up,” Stevie says. “In my gut, I feel like APOA was involved in this. But there’s only one reason I can think for them wanting to keep all of us out of their hair with a curfew and more restrictions.”
She glances up at me, and I read her thoughts in her eyes.
“They’re looking for the Arcana objects.” I shove a hand through my hair, remembering Casey’s interest in the matter. As much as I hate to think my sister’s involved in something like this, I can’t rule it out.
“So what the hell do we do now?” Baz asks.
Stevie drops into a chair. “We just sit here for a few minutes and think.”
“What were you doing, anyway?” Baz asks me, his eyes trailing down my body, stopping at my crotch.
It’s only then that I realize I’m still rocking a halfway raging hard-on.
“Must’ve been some dream,” he says.
My eyes instinctively dart to Stevie, and Baz laughs.
“I see,” he says. “So you were having freaky dream-realm sex with my girl? I’m not sure how I should feel about that.”
Stevie rolls her eyes. “Slow your roll, Mr. Possessive. We’ve got bigger problems right now.”
Baz nods toward my annoyingly-persistent hard-on. “Bigger thanthat?”
I shake my head, unable to let this go unaddressed. “From a purely technical standpoint, no. I was nothavingdream-realm sex with her. I was dreamingabouthaving sex with her.Actualdream realm sex would require both of us to travel to the dream realm together, at which time, if we mutually decided… well, that’s how it would work. Just wanted to clear up any misconceptions there.”
Baz glares at Stevie, but his eyes hold a hint of humor. “Do you have anything to say about this?”
“Hey. What happens in the dream realm stays in the dream realm, right?”
“Again, from a technical standpoint,” I say, “the realms don’t work like that, either. When something happens in the dream realm, it leaves impressions that can have ripple effects into other realms. So, for example, if two people who know each other in real life decide to have sex in the dream realm, the effects of that could ripple into their actual real life. Physical as well as emotional—anything from pregnancy to rumpled sheets to real feelings of love and desire, or—as is sometimes the case—regret.”
I glance up to find all three of them staring at me open-mouthed.
