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This place is an asylum with the insane Houses running the show.
6
SADIE
I love a good ax toss to burn off stress. Having Nolan show up when it was my turn to toss and cinch a win against the Huntress? A delicious bonus.
After my ax struck the bullseye, his wolfish gaze had roamed over my face, and it wasn’t panic or alarm in his eyes. It was desire—sexy and distracting—along with a look of challenge accepted. Not the reaction I’d hoped for. My heart raced in response until he reminded me that he found my family’s bodies. Loss pours over me. Three years since the tragedy, and grief leaves me breathless and drowning in a sea of regret when I least expect it.
Pushing through the cheer squad of Nymphs who thank me for winning them free beer, I spot Dottie waving from a small booth and head her way, dodging a couple of Muses toasting each other’s awesomeness with champagne. Their drinks slosh, spilling sickly sweet smells into the air and onto the hardwood floor.
Kiva pushes past me. “No room in our booth for you tonight, but the Nymphs saved you and the wolf a cozy table for two.”
“You must be joking,” I say. She’s not. A tiny round table shoved in the corner stands open with a little sign that says Reserved in bubble print. All it needs is a flickering candle to suggest a date. As if. I’d rather hang out with the sea hags at the swamp’s edge. But if I was wrong about Lowell, I could be wrong about an entire species. Doubt has me dropping into one of the two seats.
Nolan takes the chair across from me, stretching his long legs until his boots encroach on my space.
Awkward.
Luckily, Tisia comes striding from behind the bar and slides two full glasses across the scarred table. The one meant for me has a pale golden shine. Nolan’s looks darker, more robust.
“Thanks,” I say.
“No worries,” she tells me. “Just don’t forget to show me that makeup trick.”
Nolan eyes his beer as if it might bite. “I didn’t order anything.”
“Don’t test me, marshal,” Tisia answers before stomping back behind the bar.
“What’d I say wrong?” he asks me in a lower voice.
“You exist. That’s enough ‘wrong’ for her. Gorgons don’t like men.” I take a sip of mine, letting the honey sweetness coat my tongue. Usually, I’m served a bitter beer. This candy-like brew has a hint of something floral beneath. I’m still trying to place the taste when Nolan leans forward, almost bumping me with that damned cowboy hat of his.
“The bartender looks like she could break me in half,” he says.
“She probably can, although in Syn City, you can’t judge someone’s strength simply based on their looks.” I drink again, taking a full gulp this time and wondering what that flowery note might be. It’s subtle.
Nolan sniffs his. “Do you think she poisoned mine?”
“With snake venom,” I lie. He hated snakes when we were younger, and given the way he wrinkles his nose, I’d guess he still does.
“Nope. I know the scent of that, and it’s not in here. Any other possibilities?”
“Doubtful,” I admit. “With your shifter senses, you’d be able to smell any chemicals, and I raise the only poisonous plants in town.”
He shoots me a narrow-eyed stare. “Let me guess. You grow wolfsbane?”
One of the few herbs that can kill a wolf shifter. “Of course I do.” Why wouldn’t I after a wolf shifter murdered my family? Or at least I thought he had.
“Just enough of the non-lethal breed for personal protection, right?”
“That rule only applies in marshal jurisdictions. Not here. Some of my wolf’s bane grows waist high, and I have an extra-deadly species that typically only grows on mountain tops in Nepal. Funny thing about the magic in Syn City. It doesn’t always work the way you expect, but it yields the richest soil. Want to visit my new garden?”
“Another time,” he demurs. “Does the bartender always pick your drink here?”
“She knows which ale you need most.”
“What if you don’t like it?”
