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“You will.” Tisia never fails. “It’s either her magic or something in this bar that allows her to match you with what serves you best at that moment. Be glad Mad Maes don’t run the place. The daughters of Bacchus would slip you a psychedelic just to see what you might do.”
“Is everything magic in this town?”
“Pretty much,” I admit.
Drinking the ale, he glances at me over the rim of his glass. “Mmm, it’s like licorice, but better,” he says. “Mostly bitter, some sweet.”
I go through a mental list of the possible plants that could create the taste he described. “Tisia?” I call, raising my voice. “Did you give the marshal a beer made with mugwort?”
The Gorgon flashes a sly smile. “It’ll help him swallow any bitter truths.”
I’d almost forgotten her mother had been a kitchen witch. “And the honey in mine? That have a purpose?”
“Wouldn’t hurt to sweeten you up a bit,” she says. “I added the rosehip and lavender just for you. Plus, I poured a little spicy kick with buckeye for your new friend.” Damn her, the snake venom might’ve been safer than an ingredient used in sexy time spells for stamina and virility.
My stomach rolls and I swallow hard to choke down the sip in my mouth. “Very funny.”
She laughs. “I thought so.” With that, she moves to separate a trio of Nymphs who shake their spears as fast as their hips to whatever song they’ve convinced the Muses to play over the speakers.
“She put flowers in your beer?” Nolan sounds as if Tisia committed treason.
“Yep.” No way will I tell him that she laced my drink with ingredients commonly used in love and attraction spells. The joke’s on her. It won’t work on me. I don’t think. Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t have chugged half of it.
“Your pep squad with the neon pigtails,” he says in a molasses-slow drawl. “Who were they?”
“Why? You have enough of an ego that you don’t need a cheerleading team.” He always had confidence, and I’d thought it sexy until he turned it against me. “Unless you’re looking to get laid.”
“They aren’t my type.”
“The Nymphs are literally everyone’s type.” I really need to slow to tiny sips of this ale, but it’s so smooth.
“I don’t want to have to babysit a date to make sure she wouldn’t stab herself with a spear. Those women ever been shown how to hold those things safely?”
“Nymphs are lovers, not fighters. Stone does the best he can to teach them how to use the weapons he makes, but if their favorite song comes on, forget about it. They’d rather dance and swing the spears around than worry about which end’s pointy.”
“Who’s Stone?” he asks.
“Kiva’s bear shifter mate. He’s the local blacksmith, and he teaches a training school for combat techniques.”
“I think his school’s outside the cabin I’m staying in.”
I don’t want to think of where he’s staying, where he’ll be sleeping off Tisia’s brews tonight. “Two murderers have terrorized our town, and the serial killer you’re hunting has hit two shifter packs within fifty miles. Even the Nymphs need to know how to defend themselves. At least Kiva talked them into going with spears instead of the maces they originally requested.”
The mild horror in his gaze makes my sharing worth it. Good, it’s time I took control of this conversation. “About your investigation—”
“The head Huntress,” he interrupts. “Devlyn. She seems familiar.” He makes it sound as though I should know where he might have seen her before.
“I don’t know, marshal.” I put a strong emphasis on his title. “You’re the detective. You figure it out.”
“You sure you didn’t know her from…” His hesitation draws out far longer than comfortable.
“From before I died?” I shoot him a yeah I said it look. “No, I never met the woman before I became a Fury. Wouldn’t matter if I did since a lot of the Houses undergo a physical transformation at their turns.”
“You didn’t.”
“Furies die. That’s transformation enough.”
He doesn’t flinch at the snap in my tone that lashes like my weapon to call. “I swear I’ve scented her before.”
