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“Oh.”
Probably explained why several of them had moved to keep us in sight and thrown their coats back to free up their weapons. Pritkin ignored them and put the tray down, filling the table with our humongous sandwich. It was a true monster, now that I got a good look at it. But damn, was it good!
I ate half, I don’t know how. But I was ravenously hungry and stuffed it in. I even managed some of the potato salad. But my cream puff—
Damn, there was just no way.
“We’ll get takeaway,” Pritkin promised.
I brightened.
“Cassie—” he began. And then cut off, scowling.
I looked about in confusion and noticed one of the war mages approaching the table. Another one appeared to be trying to stop him, but he looked determined. I blinked at him.
He was tall, with a bulldog face that hadn’t completely gone jowly, but only because its owner hadn’t yet run to fat. But he looked like he was headed that way. Like he looked to be spoiling for a fight.
“You should be careful with him,” he blurted out before he’d even reached our table.
“Excuse me?” I answered, because he’d been talking to me, although he was staring down Pritkin. Who hadn’t moved, although that didn’t mean anything. Something the other mages seemed to know, because more were converging on us.
“The last woman he was with up and disappeared,” the man said, still not looking at me. “Never seen again. Wouldn’t want that to happen to you.”
“Kind of you,” I said dryly. “Now go away.”
That finally got me a glance, at least.
“I’m going to have to check you for curses,” he said, and raised a hand—
Only to have Pritkin grab his wrist before anyone could blink.
“You don’t touch her.”
“I told you so!” the man said, his voice slightly higher. “Didn’t I tell you? He’s got her under a compulsion!”
“So they can come here to eat?” Another—slightly smarter—mage asked. “You’re making a scene, Harry—”
“Not as much as I’m about to if you don’t get your filthy hand off me!” he told Pritkin.
“Let him go,” I told Pritkin, who glanced at me, then released him abruptly enough that the man staggered and almost fell, because he’d been pulling away.
“Demonic scum!” he said, and whirled—on the other side of the ci
ty, because I wasn’t in the mood.
Pritkin blinked, because I guess he hadn’t expected that. One of the other mages swore, and several others came running over. Because it didn’t look like they had, either.
“Pythian acolyte,” Pritkin said quickly. “She shifted him, nothing more.”
“And why are you eating with one of them?” a dark-haired mage demanded, like it was any of his business.
“I haven’t seen you before,” a guy with slicked-back blond hair said, glaring at me.
“And that’s my problem how?”
He scowled. “I’m going to need you to come with me.”
“Thomas!” the slightly smarter mage said, sounding exasperated. “You’re as bad as Harry. Let them eat in peace.”
