Page 18 of Bitter Spirits

Locke braced himself. “What?”

“Tonight, when you two hit the Den”—Des stopped pouring and met Locke’s eyes—“don’t leave her alone.”

Locke searched that intense gaze, trying to read between the lines, but darkness stared back. Tension set up shop in Locke’s shoulders and bled slowly down to the base of his spine. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Relief filtered through Des’s shadowed eyes, and he dipped his chin. “She’s got one more table, then she’s clocking out.”

He didn’t wait for Locke’s response but turned and walked away, leaving Locke to wonder what exactly he and Isa were going to walk into.

Chapter 7

Isa

In the back office, Isa set her phone on the desk, next to a tube of lipstick, and locked her purse in the bottom drawer. A text flashed across her screen.

Icehouse 11.

She dropped into the worn leather chair behind the battered desk that Des loved and rested her head in her hands. She needed just a minute, maybe two, to shake off the sense of impending doom.

What are you doing? She pressed her fingers against her temples, trying to ease the low-level ache that had settled in hours earlier, right about the time she’d sent the first text and slid back down a familiar rabbit hole, one she thought she’d finally left behind. The sound of knuckles against the doorframe had her raising her head and opening her eyes to find Des standing at the office door.

He wore a frown. “You okay?”

No. “Yes.”

He looked at the phone sitting on the desk, his frown deepening. “Where are they setting up shop?”

“On the west side.”

He wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, his head doing a slow shake. With heavy resignation he asked, “The Cavern or the Icehouse?”

“Icehouse.”

His hand went from his neck to his back pocket. “Here.” He pulled something out and tossed it toward her.

Isa barely managed to catch the warm weight between her palms. She opened her hands to see what looked like a simple friendship bracelet made of braided string and a cluster of carved green and black beads. “What is it?”

“Protection.” Des set a muscled shoulder against the doorframe and folded his arms. “The Zemi that came through last week made it—said she needed to give it to me for helping her out.” The highly skilled warding mage who’d crafted it had been targeted because of her ability to create innocent-looking yet powerful objects like this. He angled his head toward the simple bracelet. “I’d feel better if you wore it tonight.”

Since she could use all the help she could get, she slid the innocuous protection charm on. She tightened it until it sat snug on her wrist, a dark line almost lost among the various gold bangles. As the bracelet settled against her skin, Isa swore she could feel the invisible weight of the inevitable lighten. “Appreciate it, Des.”

“You’ll be careful.” It wasn’t a question.

“I will.” She pushed back the chair and got to her feet. “Locke still out there?”

“What do you think?”

Sighing, Isa moved toward the wall safe. “I’m leaving my car. I’ll pick it up when we’re done.”

She preferred to have her own wheels, but that wasn’t happening without an argument, and while she normally got a kick out of pushing Locke’s buttons, she couldn’t find the will to do it tonight. Not when she was this keyed up about the impending meeting. She punched in the safe’s code, opened the door, and moved the contents aside until she found what she was looking for—a small warded box. She pulled it out, disarmed the ward, and opened the container. Inside was a mismatched collection of objects.

“You sure you want to go through with this?” Des asked.

She picked out an innocuous-looking wooden disc and slipped it into her pocket. “Want to? No. Have to? Yes.” She closed the box, reset the ward, put it back, then closed the safe. Turning back, she found Des watching her. “Anna said she’d be happy to help you and Leon with closing tonight.” She collected her lipstick and phone from the desk before heading his way.

“We should be good,” he said as she came up to him. “Did you reach out to Cass?”

Isa avoided his gaze. “I will, later.”