Chapter 30 Carwynn
CARWYNN
It felt like a bucket of ice water was poured over my head, shocking my consciousness.
Holy shit. Was Lochlainn really going to kill him? Like . . . right here, right now?
Of course, I knew Lochlainn was a thug and was powerful. But right now, I realized maybe I’d been underestimating just how dangerous he was.
Lochlainn theatrically looked around. “Looks like business has been good for ya, Caden.” He pressed the gun harder.
Caden let out a grunt.
“So tell me, why are the three crates that went missing—my crates—in your establishment?”
“W-wait! No! I didn’t steal those! I—”
Lochlainn cut him off. “I’m gonna count to three. One . . . two . . .”
Pogue’s back was hard-pressed against me, forcing me to stumble back farther, burrowing deeper into the crowd. Then the heat of his body suddenly left as he snuck toward the ruckus.
Behind Lochlainn, Keeffe let out a loud exhale, displeased with where this was going.
“I swear on the fates, I didn’t! They’re paid for—” Caden cried out.
Lochlainn eerily went still.
“It’s true,” Pogue said, casually striding up. “I refined some new product this morning. Figured this was a more suitable place for a trial-run. So I cut out the middleman and sold it to him directly.” He lazily adjusted his gold watch, as if none of this phased him.
A slightly pink hue touched Lochlainn’s face. Shock? Suspicion? Maybe fury? Whichever it was, he held steady.
Slowly, the gold pistol was holstered. Lochlainn’s eyes didn’t leave Pogue.
An audible breath expelled out of Caden. He palmed his forehead, visibly relieved to have his brains still intact. Shaking, he scooted off the bar.
Chest puffed out and a fire lit behind his eyes, Lochlainn stalked up to Pogue.
His voice was low and grating. “No one—not even you—touches my goods without my fucking approval! Pull that shit again and we’re gonna have one hell of a problem. Are we clear?” His face was a mere few inches from Pogue’s, burning holes with a glare.
“Crystal.” Pogue dismissively shrugged. “You got it, boss.” A faint smirk lifted the corner of his mouth.
I sensed Lochlainn didn’t believe him for a second.
In the blink of an eye, the intensity in the room eased. Lochlainn snatched a drink from the bar, throwing it back.
“All right. Now that that’s settled.” He slammed an apologetic hand down on Caden’s shoulder and shook it. “Why don’t we forget this ever happened and play a round of Rainbow Roulette. Drinks on me, ay?”
Caden nodded gingerly, still visibly trembling. “Of course.” He swung to face the bartender. “Make sure our guests are well taken care of.”
Lochlainn clapped his hands together, stealing the wary crowd’s attention. “Let’s have some good craic tonight, all right?”
Onlookers were suddenly all too happy to change the mood from let’s brawl to let’s have a ball. They started to cheer.
Lochlainn’s calculating eyes scanned the room before they stumbled right into mine.
“Well, look what the Dullahan dragged in!” he jeered. “Wouldn’t have expected to see ya in this kind of establishment.”
Finley’s head immediately spun, sights searching until they found me.
Lochlainn’s expression led me to believe he wasn’t actually surprised to see me here at all. Strange.
My body slightly swayed, balance momentarily leaving me. But I found my footing again and narrowed my eyes at him.
“Do I need your approval?” I sarcastically jabbed.
Stupid, I scolded myself. Not five minutes ago he had a gun to someone’s head, and here I was, poking the emotionally unstable leprechaun.
“Oh love, you’ve made it very clear you get what ya want, with or without my approval.” His eyes closed to slits as he grinned.
Hmmm, wait a minute. That almost sounded like a compliment. Had I impressed him? Perhaps my threat the other week put me higher up on the food chain, no longer seen as a pawn.
I shot him a mocking smile.
“Bartender!” He snapped his fingers. “This gorgeous creature right here will be joining my round of Rainbow Roulette.” He shot a look over his shoulder to the figure who now stood off to the side. “Pogue, you’ll be playing too.”
“And me! I’m in for some fun!” The familiar voice swept through the air. A heart-throbbing smirk came into view as Finley appeared.
I felt a slight tinge of guilt knowing I’d been avoiding him. After our last heated moment and the chaos that followed, getting into anything serious right now was off the table.
But damn, he did look smoldering in his Luckman suit. The jacket was off, revealing a white button-down shirt and dark suspenders that made me wanna—
“Wait!” Breena’s enthusiastic yelp cut off my scandalous thoughts and itching need. She pushed through the crowd.
Aine followed behind, groaning as she rubbed at her temples. “We want in too!”
A man grumbled behind me. “Please tell me I don’t have to get roped into this too . . .”
I spun, finding Keeffe looking irritated. It was clear he wanted to be anywhere but here. But his gaze found Aine’s face and instantly lightened.
“Sorry—with the two additional ladies, the round is officially maxed out!” the bartender declared.
“Thank the fecking fates for that!” Keeffe eased. “I’ll just watch you lot make arses of yourselves.”
Aine snorted, pointing a thumb. “I’m with him. Can you remove me from the roster?”
I swear I heard Keeffe gasp at the words, with him.
“No!” Breena protested, spearing a confident smile to the bartender. “She stays!”
Keeffe laughed, turning to Aine. “My condolences! If ya turn into something unnatural, I promise I’ll make sure they give ya a nice cage. Might even take ya in, make sure you’re well fed,” he added with a cheeky wink.
My face tightened giddily at the flirtation in his voice.
Poor guy, little did he know, Aine enjoyed trampling over men’s hearts, maniacally laughing as she set them ablaze to warm her claws.
She didn’t talk about it, but Breena mentioned Aine had been engaged years ago.
The douchebag broke it off, along with her heart.
She’d been fangs and nails with men ever since.
And if that’s what it took for her to heal, then I loved that fucking journey for her.
“Aw, how thoughtful,” she deadpanned. “Hopefully I’ll be something poisonous with fangs. Make sure to pet me—often.”
Her unhinged wink must’ve been a bullet to Keeffe’s heart. He barked out in mad laughter.
“Oh! A feisty one! I like that.”
I had a feeling that part of her did too as she feigned a look of disdain.
I cursed myself for being the weakling most affected by the Liplock potion, but perhaps it was eating away at her too. It was in that moment I saw a tiny crack in her mask. Perhaps, she was more experienced at hiding emotions away than I was.
“I’ll start the game off, then Carwynn, then Pogue”—Lochlainn pointed a finger around—“so on and so forth.”
Our group congregated in a semi-circle around the stone bar. Some patrons behind us watched in anticipation.
Finley was directly across from me. I shared a quick, genuine smile. The way he was staring had me readjusting, feeling a tad bashful suddenly.
It was just a drinking game, right? So why did everyone look like a show was about to start?
My stomach did a few flips.
Lochlainn grabbed a small green draw-string bag from the bartender, opened it, then reached a hand inside.
“Let the game, begin!” he announced, pulling out a small golden die. He flicked his wrist and the golden cube flew out of his hand and into the air, exploding like a firecracker a few feet above our heads.
The patrons around us went wild, cheering.
Gold, sizzling electric energy charged the room. Glittering light-yellow powder fluttered down, coating us. It was mesmerizing and magical.
I wasn’t sure what the color meant. Maybe lighter colors would be less severe?
“The Fated Roll!” The bartender called out, placing a large white die on the bar top. “Roll one through three, you make a speech. Four through six, your tab is covered for the night!”
Lochlainn took the die, smugly rolling it on the stone.
“Two!” The bartender called, wickedly grinning. “Seems you owe us a speech!”
Lochlainn didn’t hesitate as he stepped onto a barstool and climbed onto the countertop. He threw back the shot that magically appeared, exuding confidence and charm the whole time.
Why did he look so goddamn happy with himself? My piss-poor public speaking skills would’ve had me shitting myself right about now.
The music stopped. Chatter died down. Neon lights flickered distantly on the dance floor, but eyes were glued in our direction . . . on Lochlainn.
He extended his arms as if embracing the expectant faces of the crowd.
“Luckland!” he roared like a king on a dais.
A rumble of cheer and stomping vibrated the floor.
I looked around incredulously. It was like watching the jock in high school get praised for doing a hair-flip. What in the world was happening?
My eyes briefly met Aine’s as she eye-rolled into another dimension.
He raised a hand up, calming the crowd. They quieted at his gesture.
“What an incredible, and incredibly dangerous city we live in!” He flashed a devilish grin.
People around bellowed in laughter while others burst out in prideful hollering.
“A city of gamblers! Of thieves! Of tricksters! Those willing to cheat, to stab, to roll the dice and risk it all!” He held a fist to the heavens, pumping it. “And yet, we are the lucky ones!”
Wild energy poured in as people’s elated calls carried.
I leaned toward Breena and Aine, whispering, “Is this normal?”
Breena laughed, seeing the absolute horror on my face.
“Not a fan of the guy, but he sure knows how to work a crowd!” she mused. “You could say we are proud of our wicked chancer ways.”
Aine snorted, shaking her head. “Please. Easy to do when the majority of the crowd has the intelligence level of a rock and the emotional stability of toddlers. Dangle anything remotely shiny and they’ll start to follow it.”
I snickered at the thought, peering around. Keeffe and Finley were looking up at Lochlainn, faces drawn in tight, like they knew his words were laced in something more consequential.
“We are the people who know how to survive! Even when the odds are stacked against us—when it’s last call and we’re down on our luck. We find a way to take what we want, what we need—to survive! Because we don’t play fair. No. We never have, never will!”
Whooping continued, but Lochlainn raised another halting hand.
A heavy gravity settled and the room quieted to near-silence.
There was a solemn look in Lochlainn’s eyes, his smile becoming dangerous. He pointed around the crowd.
“Luck is the rain that nourishes our land. It can grow your pockets, grow your dreams! But it’s a fucking fickle thing.
Too much and it’ll drown ya, washing away all we cherish, all we’ve worked for.
” His words held weight. “But as Lucklanders, we know this. Our people are wise, well-versed in the ways of luck! But there are those who would envy us, who would covet what we have!” His brows furrowed, demanding fight from his people.
“So tell me, what happens when the dice are loaded against us? What happens when serpents come to claim our luck for their own?”
Murmurs echoed throughout the club. People exchanged wary glances before a hush fell over again. Faces were stone, hardening to his words.
Lochlainn leaned down, picking up another shot and held it out like an offering. Another malicious smirk curled over his lips.
“When the game is rigged, our winning hand stolen, and we’re near tapping out.
” A dramatic pause intensified the energy.
“We burn the fucking table down!!!” Lochlainn let out a war cry with his hand held high.
Flickering gold light shot out of his hand, illuminating the shot glass like a beacon guiding souls home. Then, he knocked it back.
The room unleashed. Deafening rally cries erupted from all corners of the club. Cheers. Shouts. The sound was a chaotic being, come to life.
I didn’t miss the calculating grin Lochlainn shot at Pogue before he jumped down from the bar. There were unspoken words between them. Unspoken and challenging.
Business partners on the same team, and yet, they were an unlikely pair. What was it between them? Did I even want to know?
And just like electricity switching on after an outage, my ability sparked back to life. A provocative voice intruded my mind.
Need to find out . . . need to know . . .
I swept a hand across my brow, trying to wipe the voice away too. My mind was too fuddled to deal with spirit intrusions right now.
“You’re up, love,” Lochlainn said, giving me an encouraging wink.
I returned it with a nervous laugh. “Yeah, well, I better not have to make a speech too. No way I’d be able to rally the troops like you did.”
“Ohhhh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Throwing a cryptic grin my way, Lochlainn gently pushed me forward.
“You got this, Carwynn!” Breena, my own personal cheerleader, shouted.
Fuck. Here goes nothing.