Page 44 of The Seven Rings
“I’ll go with that. But not the brides,” Owen pointed out. “You don’t murder an annoyance.”
“No, not the brides. They’re usurpers, rivals—and disposing ofthem is a way to either hold on to or increase her power. Sonya’s a Poole, but not a bride.”
Following, Sonya nodded and took another bite of a—yes, excellent—pulled pork sandwich. “So I’m an annoying inconvenience. One she wants gone, but not so much a threat. Won’t she be surprised?”
“This Is War” played on Sonya’s phone.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Thirty Seconds to Mars. Nice choice,” Owen decided.
“And I say she’s had enough of our time this lovely evening. When do we set sail tomorrow?” Cleo asked.
“Can you get up before noon?”
“I can, with the proper incentive.”
“Sunday breakfast at ten.”
“Ouch.”
He laughed at Cleo. “I’ll cover that. Hoist sails by noon.”
“That sounds…” Sonya sighed. “Just frigging awesome.”
“I can’t say it’ll be awesome, but there’s live music at Maloney’s tonight.”
“Maloney’s?” Cleo frowned at Owen. “Is that the bar off Water Street?”
“Yeah. It’s not exactly a dive. More of a joint. They get a band in on Saturday nights most of the summer.”
“Who’s playing?” Trey asked.
“Tin Roof.”
“Ah.” Nostalgia made him smile. “We were them once.”
The insult lived in Owen’s eyes. “Come on, man, we were worlds better.”
“Maybe a few continents better.”
“Either way, live music on a Saturday night.”
“Dancing?” Cleo wondered.
“I take it you’ve never been inside. No room for it,” Trey told her. “Unless you hop up on the pool table.”
“Pool table.” Cleo slid a glance toward Sonya. “What do you think?”
“You made a cake.”
“Won’t take me ten minutes to put it together when we get back, if you’re up for it.”
“I can be up for it. I need to change.”
“Trust me.” Trey shook his head. “You don’t.”
“It may be a joint, but I have my standards. Ten minutes.”
