Page 44 of Quiver of Cobras
It was one of those old men’s pubs. No showy craft beers or artisan crisps on offer here; this was all strong ale and pork scratchings, with an invasive odour of stale Old Spice and sour body odour. I ignored the stares from the few remaining punters and took a seat on one of the bar stools.
The barman shambled over. He didn’t say a cheery hello; in fact, he didn’t say anything – he just looked me up and down. Perhaps I should have kept my Madhatter superhero cape and added it to my leather corset and splattered mud ensemble.
I hefted the chest of pixie dust onto the bar top. ‘Vodka,’ I said. ‘Lots of vodka. No ice.’ I look at the barman sternly. ‘And make sure it’s the strongest you’ve got.’
Mr Silent-But-Judgy nodded and turned to the shelf behind him. He poured me a double and set it down in front of me. I raised the glass and lifted it to my lips, taking only the smallest sip before choking and spluttering.
‘Maybe some Coke too?’ I croaked. ‘Just to make it a bit sweeter.’
He smirked, finally cracking his bland exterior. ‘Sure thing, duck.’
Once I could continue drinking without fearing for my life, I started to relax. The vodka, even tempered with copious amounts of sweet, fizzy cola, sent a warm buzz down through my body.
The other patrons settled back into their conversations and, thanks to my appearance, I had no worries that I would be interrupted with nonsensical flirting. Mud-caked as I was, I was still obviously far too sophisticated for the likes of anyone here. All the men must have recognised that to approach me would be to punch too far above their weight.
I tossed back my hair, inadvertently sending a few bits of dried mud behind me, one or two of which landed in a bearded fellow’s pint. Oops. I hastily turned away and hunched my shoulders. Maybe if I pretended I were invisible, he wouldn’t notice me.
‘Enjoying yourself?’ murmured a familiar voice by my side.
I jerked, spilling some of my drink. ‘Rubus,’ I said. ‘What a joy.’
He smiled at me, although his smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘You could at least pretend that you’re happy to see me.’
I gave up on my invisibility attempt and flung myself off my bar stool. I wrapped my arms round Morgan’s brother and squeezed him as tightly as I could without breaking the terms of the truce, then I rubbed my cheek against his like a cat. ‘I’m so glad to see you,’ I said breathlessly. ‘All I could think about was you and how much I missed you. And now you’re here!’ I pulled back and clasped my heart. ‘It’s a miracle! A god-given miracle!’
‘Hey lady,’ growled the bearded man. ‘You owe me another drink.’
‘I’ll get it,’ Rubus said. He raised his eyebrows at me. ‘If you’ll stop acting like an idiot.’
I shrugged. I could cope with that. ‘Okay,’ I trilled. I hopped back onto my stool. I was pleased to note that a considerable amount of the mud that had been plastered over me was now covering Rubus.
He paid for the drinks, even going so far as to take the pint over to the whinger who, I noticed, might not have wanted mud splattered into his pint of beer but had still drunk it down to the dregs. Whatever. It was Rubus’s money that was being wasted.
Rubus took several gulps of his own pint. I noticed with interest that his hands were shaking. Was he scared of me? The idea made my insides burble with happiness. Then I saw that his skin looked paler than normal and there were lines of tension around his eyes.
‘Are you ill?’ I enquired.
‘What?’ he snapped.
I pointed at his face. ‘You don’t look very well. You should get some vitamins down you or something. You’ve got a big date tomorrow night.’
Rubus’s forehead creased as if he’d completely forgotten about his dinner with a star fromSt Thomas Close. He’d demanded I arrange it; the least he could do was remember it.
‘I’m fine,’ he answered shortly. ‘No thanks to my bastard of a brother though.’
‘He caused problems for you out at Chen’s place?’ I enquired, carefully schooling my expression to avoid yielding any truths.
‘He wasn’t even there.’ Rubus grimaced in disgust. ‘He couldn’t be bothered to show up in person. He just sent a bunch of Fey flunkies.’
I tapped the side of my glass. ‘Are you surprised?’ I asked. ‘After all, that’s what you usually do.’
Anger sparked in Rubus’s green eyes. They really were remarkably similar to Morgan’s. ‘Are you suggesting that I’m not man enough to get my hands dirty?’
‘Actually,’ I said, hoping this tactic would work, ‘I’m saying it of both you and your brother. Aren’t the pair of you supposed to be leaders or something? How do you expect people to follow you if you won’t lead by example?’
‘Iwasleading by example,’ Rubus snapped. ‘I was there – at least for a short while. Morgan didn’t show his ugly face once.’
I took another sip of my drink. ‘You know,’ I said, ‘the two of you look incredibly alike.’
