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Probably had something to do with how they both held a sixty-four-ounce cup of coffee in each hand.
“I can taste the color purple.” Marita wet her lips. “It smells like chocolate.”
“Um.” I flicked a glance at Derry. “I see.”
“She picked up someone else’s coffee order. Turns out they put a little something in it along with cream and sugar. She’s been high as a kite for the last ten minutes. If she wasn’t sloshing with caffeine, it would have worn off by now.” He smiled at her, love in his eyes. “She can also talk to bumblebees.”
“Bzz-bzz,” she confirmed, spinning away with her arms held out straight to her sides like a plane.
“What can we do to fixthat?” I winced when she began using a broken tree limb as a stinger. She would be in a world of hurt if she fell with that stick down the back of her jeans. “How do we sober her up?”
“Here.” Dad walked up behind me, scaring ten years off my life. “Get her to drink this.”
“What is that?” Derry pushed off the wall. “A hangover cure?”
“Something like that.” He passed off a small vial to Derry. “You can mix it in with her coffee, if you like.”
“More coffee?” I worried my bottom lip with my teeth. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Your mother formulated it.” He watched Marita for a moment. “She’s very familiar with warg biology.”
For Dad to be carrying it around, Mom must have figured he would find a use for it. Probably after she discovered he had flown Marita and Derry in to help.
“That sounds like she made a lot of hangover cures for Meg back in the day.” Derry snorted. “Here goes.”
Without ceremony, he dumped the liquid into one of his cups then swirled it with his straw.
Gotta say, I was impressed when he required no further proof of Dad’s intentions before going for it.
“Oh no. They gave me a caramel crunch Frappuccino by mistake,” he called to Marita. “Do you want it?”
Still buzzing, she swooped in and took the cup, downing its contents in four large gulps.
“Send them ahead,” Dad advised. “The shift will help burn off the lingering effects.”
“Come on, Bumble.” Derry led her toward the alley. “You heard the man.”
Ticking off a mental roll call, I hit the next one. “Fergal?”
“Already in the SUV.” Asa gestured toward the parking deck. “Arden has volunteered to protect Colby, so they will both remain with Fergal.”
“Have we heard from Moran?”
“The centuria is holding their ground, but if Calixta decides to involve her military, it will get ugly.”
“Okay.” I pushed out an exhale. “We need to start brainstorming on how to fix that.”
“Already ahead of you.” Asa risked a smile. “I’ve enlisted Isiforos to help.”
Since Isiforos’s dad was our propaganda machine in Hael, thanks to his crafty side and ruthless merchandising streak, I didn’t mind giving him more responsibility.
“Good.” I checked my list twice, but there wasn’t anything else actionable. “Let’s go see what we see.”
For the secondday in a row, I found myself stationed at the SUV while the others secured the distillery.
There was no sign of Clay when we arrived, a repeat of yesterday, and I didn’t know what to make of it. Every time Dad dowsed, his crystal indicated Clay was here, but the wargs hadn’t scented a hint of him.
Had the director cloaked him in magic to conceal him, they would have picked up on that instantly.
