Page 11 of Cursed
“Looks like somewhere I’ve seen in movies,” Evan replied. “I’m sure that’s a big draw for families.”
“Cassidy said that Caden was friends with the owner. Since he’s a cop, I’m hoping that bodes well for security.” Seth followed the signs and lot numbers until he found the spot they had been assigned. It had more elbow room than many places they had parked, as well as a picnic table, Adirondack chairs, and firepit.
“If we ever come back, we should keep this in mind,” Evan agreed. “We passed a sign for a canteen and snack bar.”
They had gotten good at settling in, opening the bump-outs, and were hooked up to the utilities in record time. Seth uncoupled the truck and set the alarms to protect the RV and motorcycle, then put down a salt circle and magical protections. Evan entered the address of Nash’s pub, Mystic, in his phone, and they headed back toward Savannah, where the bar sat at the edge of the historic district.
“I know we can’t ride the bike everywhere, but it’s a damn sight easier to park.” Seth angled the truck into a spot that provided a clear line of sight to the bar and an easy getaway.
“And cold. Don’t forget cold,” Evan teased.
“That, too. Although not as bad down here as back home,” Seth replied.
Mystic took up the bottom floor of an old brick building with large windows and a tastefully lit sign. The bar had a comfortable neighborhood hangout vibe, and Seth felt comfortable immediately when they walked in. Dark wood paneling and brass fixtures gave an upscale touch withoutseeming stuffy. Framed pictures showed city life in Savannah throughout the years.
“Let’s go in and see if Nash is working. Maybe Caden will drop by after his shift.” Seth locked the truck as they walked away.
Memorabilia about the Savannah music scene—band photos, concert broadsides, and framed albums—covered the walls. A small stage at one end sat empty at the moment, but the sign on the wall announced upcoming acts.
“Hey.” Evan gently elbowed Seth to get his attention. “Check out the set list. I guess Pax’s boyfriend is more than a casual musician.”
“Tony Spencer,” Seth murmured, pointing to the familiar name on the lineup. “I wonder if we’ll get the chance to hear him play.”
“Teag said that sometimes Tony busks near Pax’s food truck, so maybe he’ll be playing when we’re staking out the location,” Evan replied.
They headed for the bar and waited for someone to take their order. Evan recognized the bar owner from the photos Cassidy and Teag had shared.
Nash Arden appeared to be in his early thirties, with reddish-blond hair and scruff. His green eyes sparkled as he bantered with customers while shaking a cocktail. A gold ring glinted on the third finger of his left hand. When they got closer, Evan could see that his nametag read, “Nash—Owner.”
A second bartender worked the other end of the very busy counter, and servers relayed drink orders from the customers seated at tables.
Evan felt a pang of nostalgia since he had been a bartender in Richmond before Seth saved him from the witch-disciple. He had enjoyed the work, although he never planned to make it hiscareer. The freelance projects he did now satisfied his creativity and suited his new nomadic lifestyle.
“What can I get you?” Nash asked when he worked his way down to them.
“You brew your own beer?” Seth asked.
“Sure do,” Nash replied with pride. “Best in Savannah.”
“Two glasses then of your favorite,” Seth ordered. “I’m Seth, and this is Evan. Some mutual friends may have mentioned we were coming to town.”
The look in Nash’s eyes turned assessing, although his smile held. “Yep. Been expecting you. I can’t talk right now, but give me half an hour, and I’ll have someone to cover for me.” He turned away to pull their drinks and slid them across the bar. “Enjoy.”
Seth and Evan turned their backs to the bar and looked out over the small restaurant. It felt genuinely cozy, without the forced ambiance of tourist traps. The patrons ranged from young professionals who looked like they stopped in after work to retirees and travelers.
Evan tried to listen in on the conversations near him at the bar, but didn’t pick up anything out of the ordinary.
Before long, Nash returned. “C’mon. My folks can cover for me for a while. I’ve got a back table where we can talk. Caden will be here soon, once his shift ends.”
They took their drinks and followed Nash to a small booth set off by itself, angled so that Nash could watch the restaurant but far enough from other tables to afford privacy.
“Glad you’re here,” Nash said once they got settled. “Cassidy briefed me on your background and what you’ve been doing. How can we help?”
“I don’t know yet,” Seth replied. “We just got to town, and we’re getting our bearings. Tomorrow we’ll observe the guy who’s the next target and figure out how to approach him.”
“I wish we could just introduce ourselves, explain the danger, and have him and his boyfriend just ride off into the sunset so we can deal with the threat, but it never works that way,” Evan said. “I was a target, and I didn’t believe Seth until I got kidnapped to be the next offering.”
“We’ve also got to figure out what serves as the anchor for the bad guy’s magic, because we’re going to have to destroy it,” Seth added.
