Page 44 of Faerie Fate
I hated the way she laughed, a low grinding sound.
“I can sense the magic. I’m a bounty hunter, right? It’s my job to make sure I know everything about everybody.” She shifted back and crossed her arms over her chest to mirror Mike’s posture. “You three stick out like a decapitated arm.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them willing to look away.
I took a sip of my drink to hide my tremor and winced as I gulped. The thing tasted awful and tightened my chest.
What was her game? I wasn’t sure. But it worried me to consider that we’d royally stepped into something we weren’t prepared for. Maybe it was the way she and Mike pinned each other in place with their eyes, maybe it was her confidence, but I had to admit the situation did terrible things to my insides.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why you can’t move,” she said. “Magic, darlings. Didn’t you sense it?”
My breath pushed past my teeth. No one immediately answered her, and if the panicked look on Bronwen’s face was anything to judge by, they were having the same issues moving that I was.
Had Poppy somehow forced us to freeze in place? And was it fae magic, or something else?
Poppy’s grin widened but her eyes maintained every scrap of fierceness. “Let’s just start with names. You, girl.” She snapped her fingers in front of Bronwen’s face. “You going to tell me your name or are you going to lose it and start crying?”
Bronwen hid her reaction in her drink the same way I did. Time travel must have really messed her up more than I thought because the Bronwen Minuti I knew and loved would have shown her wolf at the finger snap thing.
Mike was the first one to regain his wits. “That’s Bronwen. I’m Michael, this is Tavi. And Noren, the direwolf.”
Panic spiked inside my head and beads of sweat plastered the frayed threads of the stolen tunic collar to my throat. “Noren?”I sat up straighter, shocked to see a familiar lupine head poking through the back door that more than likely led to the kitchen. “He was supposed to stand guard.”
“Maybe he thought you needed him more here.” Poppy’s tone went gentle. “Oh, my. What do we have here?”
Mike shouldn’t have introduced Noren, I thought as I reached out for the direwolf, mentally and physically. But he cared about my companion, too. It almost made me forgive Mike for how off he’d been acting towards me. Almost.
Poppy bobbed her head in acknowledgement of us, her attention lingering on Noren. “Isn’t everyday you see a direwolf.” She waited, marking his approach. “Feral, primitive magic. Bloodthirsty.” She bit out every word.
I hugged Noren tightly the moment he made it to my side. “He’s all those things and more to my enemies,” I told her.
She barked out a laugh. “Cute, girl, cute. You think I’m intimidated by a wolf? I might be one of the only people who have seen horrors to rival one of them.” She jerked her chin at Noren. “Now that we all know each other, let’s order some food. I’m starving. Been on the road for too long.”
“Sounds good.” Mike craned his head for a better look at the barkeep and something like appreciation flashed in Poppy’s gaze.
When did we go from tense to comfortable? What changed?
Poppy’s gaze met mine, watching me, and although her smile had disappeared, her eyes boasted a glimmer of satisfaction.
“A man after my own heart,” she said appraisingly. “Always hungry, huh? Same. Can’t get enough to fuel the machine most days. Sylvester!” She called out the bartender’s name like the blast of a trumpet.
Although he didn’t exactly hurry over, he did hustle around the bar and fix her with a long look.
“Four specials of the day. And I know you’ve got a load of fresh beef back there so do not bullshit me and try to feed me the slop you got last week,” Poppy demanded. “I’ll gut you like a fish.”
Sylvester’s expression soured. “I’d never bullshit you, Miss.”
“Oh, you have before, and you will again. But try it today and I’ll slice off your index fingers before I slice you from navel to neck,” Poppy warned with a casual teasing lilt. Except I got the feeling she wasn’t joking. “Joint by joint!”
She called the last bit of threat after him, but Sylvester had already moved back to the kitchen, his exit marked by a puff of belched smoke that smelled like roasted beef.
Poppy resettled herself at the table with a particularly wide smile for Mike, and I almost bit off my own tongue.
“Handsome boy, too. Good-looking stock. Healthy.” She cataloged him like an appraiser at a livestock fair. “Things are good in the future, then?”
Maybe he liked the blunt way she spoke, as though the woman pulled no punches, or maybe he liked the way she looked. How could he not? She was luminous. Poppy’s unblemished neck practically glowed even in the dim light of the tavern.
“There’s plenty of food in the future, if that’s what you mean,” Mike replied. He dropped his arms to his sides with his hands loose on his lap. “And thank you for the compliment.”
