Chapter 30
Chapter
Thirty
C assander stared at me, his brow furrowing, and I said, “You called me precious. You’re the first one who I didn’t want to perform for. I want you .”
When he didn’t say anything, I picked up my glass, examining the smooth surface, tracing my finger over the logo. It stared at me, accusing.
“When I was a kid, I didn’t really know what my mom was doing. She said… she said I knew about the ghosts, but I don’t remember that. I just remember the smell of her shop, the feel of her tarot cards.”
The sound of pool balls clacking together punctuated my words. The teenagers were still at it, and Leonard came out from the back to deliver a plate of fries that they devoured almost immediately.
“Then my dad died, and my mom… well, I guess she got worried, but something changed. She changed. All of a sudden, she wasn’t content to let me and Candy be. We were constantly learning her tricks. How to be the people a con needed us to be. I was twelve people every day: the good student teachers wanted, the tough kid who wouldn’t let anyone mess with Candy, Betty’s friend. The guy who was in with everyone and who everyone thought they knew.” I paused, taking a drink. “But no one really knew me . I didn’t even know who I was.”
“I know about that,” Cassander said. “But my own disguise was different.”
When I looked over, he was staring at the wall of alcohol behind the bar.
“I bet you do.” Because I could read his face without even trying. He’d protected himself by being a complete blank. No wonder no one had remained loyal to him: all they’d ever seen was a loyal son who had no ambitions of his own, whose motives were constantly hidden, who never spoke without purpose.
“Anyway, then I went into the SPA, and it was rewarded.” I had to swallow around the thick emotion. “I was rewarded for being a hundred people and never, ever being myself. Until you. I could have played you like a fiddle. But I didn’t want to.”
“I’m sorry, if you think I’m a common fiddle, we have larger problems,” Cassander said. But he was smiling, the barest hint of it in the corner of his lips. “A fiddle .”
“I could have played you like a Stradivarius. Is that better?” I pocketed the coin and then covered his hand with mine. “But I didn’t. I didn’t even want to.”
Cassander let out a low exhale. “Why not?”
“I don’t know. Something about you. Something precious .” I used his own word back on him, knowing it was true, knowing that he was the only person in years who I wanted to show my real self to.
“I don’t deserve that,” Cassander murmured. “I’m not any more precious than you. Although, you know…”
He frowned, looking at me. Before he could clarify what I knew, which in all likelihood I didn’t know, the door opened and Candy walked into the bar.
She glanced around, her mouth pressed in an annoyed line before she caught sight of us and stalked over. “So?”
“Hello to you, yes, we did survive our meeting with the local mob boss, thanks for asking. No one even lost a pinkie. No one slept with the fishes, everything’s good here. Thanks.” I grinned when Candace waved an annoyed hand.
“What happened?” she asked.
“We have three days,” I said. “And then we go to war.”
Candy let loose a stream of profanity that would have put enough change in the swear jar to fund her kids’ first years of college. “You couldn’t make peace?”
“She wants war. Technically”—I glanced at Cassander—“she wants Cass. And if I don’t hand him over, she wants war.”
Candy slouched on the barstool on the other side of me. “So she’s getting war.”
“You aren’t even going to… I mean, we could give him up,” I pointed out.
“We could what now ?” Candy stared at me as though I was the one whose ears changed shape with my mood. “Man, being back here brings out the worst in you. We aren’t giving up your boyfriend to Iris Milner for… well, I don’t know why she wants his royal European ass, but I don’t think it’s to be her pool boy.”
“Fae prince, actually,” Cassander said, drawing the bottle with a dragon on it from behind the bar and pouring himself another shot. He grabbed another glass and poured Candy one as well. After giving me a narrow-eyed glare, he filled my glass as well, saying, “And you just said you weren’t going to hand me over.”
“But Candy didn’t know that! She should have at least considered it.” I took a sip of the alcohol, wincing as it went down.
“ I should have considered selling out your boyfriend? Partner? Right, that would make me an amazing sister. Best sister in the world.” Candy knocked back the shot. “This is why the ghosts think you’re a sociopath.”
“The what ?” I demanded, staring at her with wide eyes. “Candy, you know about Mom’s ghosts?”
“Wait, so you’re a fae prince?” Candy asked. “Is that like… a sweet gig? Do you have a lot of gold lying around? Or, like, is it ‘I’m going to steal your brother for a thousand years’ kind of fae prince? Not that it would be much different from when he disappeared for twelve years and showed back up jobless, homeless, and broke.”
I rolled my eyes at her pointed look.
“Well, honestly, right now, being a fae royal has just left me jobless, homeless, and broke,” Cassander said. He clinked his glass against mine. “In that, we’re quite similar.”
“I always wanted a partner I had things in common with,” I said. “Unless you prefer ‘boyfriend’?”
“In three days, we’re facing down a dragon,” Cassander said, each word precise, as though he was trying to hide exactly how much he’d had to drink. “Nomenclature is the least of my worries.”
“You know, they say if you share hobbies with your partner, your relationship lasts longer.” Candy considered her glass, tapping it once on the bar top and raising an eyebrow at Cassander.
He leaned over, pouring her another generous glass. “I would hardly say our shared unemployment should be considered a hobby in common.”
“I mean…” I raised my eyebrow. “It certainly does take up time.”
I tipped my own glass back, taking a longer swallow of alcohol, letting the last few drips of it settle on my tongue. Either the alcohol had numbed my mouth, or I was starting to enjoy the taste of nitroglycerin.
“Cass, you should come work for me!” Candy’s eyes opened wide, her mascara-dark lashes blinking rapidly. “We always need people at the salon.”
“At the… salon?” Cassander was speaking precisely again, as though trying not to let us know he was incredibly, undeniably drunk. “I assure you my abilities with blades extend only to ending people’s lives, not giving them haircuts.”
“No, no.” Candy shook her head. “But we always need people sweeping up, or doing laundry, or even answering the phone.” At Cassander’s dubious look, Candy said, defensive, “It’s good work!”
“Well, it’s certainly more employment than I currently have.” Cassander looked at me. “It’s not as though I can put my former position on a resume.”
“Yeah, they would probably think if you put down ‘Fae Prince’ you were an actor at Disney.” I looked him up and down. “ That could be an option for you.”
“I don’t do well with small children.” Cassander’s lips pulled down in distaste.
“You do pretty well with mine,” Candy said. “They love you.”
“Yeah, you’re selling yourself short, Cass. I bet if you worked hard, you could have a crown again,” I said. At Cassander’s narrowed eyes, I had to give it up and grinned. “Because they give one to the actor playing Prince Charming.”
Cassander poured himself another glass, grunting in distaste. Betty came down the bar, confiscating the bottle and putting the cap back on before replacing it on the upper shelf.
She looked at all of us suspiciously. “How much of that have you had to drink?”
“Enough.” I raised my glass to my lips, only to find it empty. “I will be honest, after my second glass, the taste of dynamite that’s really, really pissed off at me becomes tolerable.”
“Well, I wouldn’t drink too much of it. You don’t want to know how he makes it.” Betty crossed her arms and leaned on the bar, looking between the three of us. “Who’s playing Prince Charming?”
“We’re trying to think of jobs for Cassander.” I jerked my thumb at him. “Prince Charming at Disney?”
Betty pursed her lips and hummed, tilting her head to look at him. “Maybe. I would say a ma?tre d’ at one of those high-end restaurants in Palm Springs. Give him the ability to really look down on people, make someone feel good about coming to their exclusive place and paying a thousand dollars for dinner.”
“That’s it.” I snapped my fingers at Betty and pointed at Cassander. “Or you could start working for a bridal store. Get all the brides to pay ten thousand dollars for a wedding dress because they don’t want you to pity them and their non-five-figure wedding dresses.”
“Since when is my employment the only one under consideration?” Cassander waved a hand at me. “I present you Damian Reyes, who has spent the past twelve years working for a secret government organization whose name can’t be used on his resume.”
“That’s true.” I nodded, jerking my thumb at my chest. “Unemployed, unemployable due to most of my skills being top secret. The only thing I can do is con people. Could you use a con to sweep hair?”
I blinked at Candy, trying for adorable, but my sister rolled her eyes, pushing on my shoulder.
“No, you are completely unemployable. I couldn’t even hire you to sweep hair.”
“What?” I gaped at her. “Candy, are you being serious? I could sweep hair.”
“You would last all of five minutes before your self-importance emerged and you started trying to give me tips about how to optimize my business.” At my continued affronted look, Candy pursed her mouth and raised an eyebrow. “Seriously. You would start trying to sell me on a digital scheduling system that automatically calls people back. Or getting fancier water bottles to try and upsell our clients.”
“Wait.” I held up a hand, shaking my head and trying to clear the cloud of alcohol. “You don’t already have a digital scheduling system?”
Candy laughed hysterically, slapping the bar top. She looked up and pointed at Betty, the only sober one between the three of us. “ You employ him.”
“Oh, no.” Betty held up her hands. “I’m not touching him as an employee. I have my hands full. I just gave Leonard a job.”
“Are you saying I’m worse than Leonard ?” I demanded. “I am not worse than Leonard!”
Leonard had just come out of the back with a stack of clean towels and looked at me, mouth pulled down, eyes beginning to tear. “Man, that was uncalled for.”
“I’m just saying . I spent the past twelve years doing things that most people couldn’t even begin to do. I’m a people person! I solve problems!” I looked around.
“You blow things up,” Betty pointed out.
“You run away from your problems,” my sister agreed.
“I’m very employable,” I said to Cassander.
“Funny, because I’m the only one with a job offer on the table.” Cassander grinned wickedly, bringing his glass to his lips. Somehow, his glass was full again while mine remained empty.
“This isn’t fair. You’re all ganging up on me.” I glared at my empty glass.
The door opened again, and someone stepped into the bar, backlit by the bright desert sunset. When the door closed, I blinked in surprise.
Raising my hand, I pointed at the wolf wearing a business suit. “What the?—”
“Honey!” Candy grinned, waving at the human-sized wolf wearing a business suit . “You made it.”
“Your text said it was important,” the wolf said in Brad’s voice. He put down his briefcase under one of the barstools and took the seat next to Candy. Then he leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“It is now. We’re trying to think of something Damian can do for employment.” Candy grinned at me. “So far, he’s proven he can’t even sweep hair at the salon.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Damian. Does it look like your previous employer won’t take you back?” The wolf frowned at me.
“Well, it turns out that my previous employer is in bed with an international crime syndicate, so… I’m not sure I’m interested in being employed by them again.” I pointed at him. “You’re a wolf.”
The wolf pulled back, looking at Candy and then at Cassander. “Excuse me?”
“Is no one else seeing this?” I looked around, then glared at Betty. “Betty, what is in that alcohol?”
“Uh…” Betty looked around, uncomfortably, and I realized that I had practically shouted my last words.
I lowered my voice and asked again, “Seriously, no one else sees that he’s a giant wolf?”
“The right term is lupine American,” the wolf said, and now that I squinted, I could see Brad’s face underneath, like I was looking at two images superimposed on each other, two pieces of film pinched together and held up to the light. “But I’m not shifted right now, so how did you…”
The wolf turned and looked at Candy, but she shook her head. “I didn’t tell him. Maybe Mom did?”
“Mom didn’t say anything. None of you said anything.” I pointed at Betty. “You knew.”
“I know a lot of things, Damian. I’m a bartender. People talk to bartenders.” Betty leaned behind the bar and used the soda gun to pour me a glass of bubbly water. She put it in front of me.
I continued to stare at Brad, realizing that although the wolf had appeared more solid at first, the longer I stared at him, the more I could see Brad underneath, the wolf fading until I was staring at my brother-in-law, only slight hints at the corner of my vision indicating sharp, pointed ears and a long tail.
“The magic sight.” I looked over at Cassander. “That’s how I’m seeing it.”
“Were you not aware that your brother-in-law was alpha of a werewolf pack?” Cassander looked at me, puzzled. “Your relationship with your family might actually be worse than mine, and given that my brother has in the past tried to assassinate me and currently made a deal with an international crime organization to kill me, that is a very high bar to pass.”
Brad coughed. “Well, this isn’t exactly how I wanted you to find out, but yes. I am a lupine American. I wouldn’t claim the title alpha, but I do lead the pack currently.” At my confused look, he said, “It’s a rotating position. It can be a lot of administration, and we don’t like to force anyone to keep it for too long. There’ve been too many wolves burned out, and that’s no good for pack social-emotional health.”
“And Mom talks to ghosts,” I said. At Candy’s guilty look, I narrowed my eyes. “And you talk to ghosts.”
“Not as good as Mom,” she said defensively. “But, yeah. It started a few years ago. We think Junior is going to inherit it too.”
“And you…” I swung my finger to Betty.
She raised both of her hands. “I’m as human as they come, but I do hear a lot of things.”
“You know, I think I actually am glad to have that out in the open. Because now we can talk about how you’re a dragon,” Brad said. “Right?”