Page 20 of Don't Bait Me (Nora Jacobs 3)

I’m still trying to read them when Parker plunks down on a stool in front of me. “Hey, stranger,” I say, pulling myself out of my deep concentration. Parker smiles at my cheerful greeting, but there’s something sad behind it. “What’s wrong?”

Parker blinks, as if startled by the question, and quickly shakes off his melancholy. “It’s nothing.”

I pour him a glass of scotch that I know he likes and lean my elbows on the counter in front of him. “I’m a bartender now, you know. I’m supposed to listen to the woes of my customers. I’ll even try to dole out some advice. It might be shitty advice, but I’ll give it my best shot.”

That gets a real smile from him. He takes a sip of the drink I set in front of him and then sighs. “It’s nothing. I’m just adjusting. Being Henry’s chief enforcer was basically a round-the-clock job, and I’ve done it for hundreds of years. I’m not used to having nothing to do.”

Now I recognize the look I’d seen on his face when he sat down. The poor guy is lost without a purpose. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon.”

Before Parker can reply, Nick appears and clamps a hand down on his shoulder. “You could take Director West up on her offer to be the new deputy director.” He grins at me. “Can I get a beer, little spitfire?”

Parker shoots Nick a wry glance as he slides onto the stool beside him. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

Nick smiles shamelessly. “I am working. I’m a field agent. I’m out in the field. And besides. I’ve been specifically ordered to keep on you until you agree to come work for the FUA.”

I snort a laugh, and Nick gives me a look. “You too, missy. You know Director West wants—” He snaps his mouth closed and narrows his eyes at me. He glances around us, then lowers his voice. “Who put that glamour on you? It’s way too strong to be Terrance’s work.”

I slide a mug of Demon’s Brew—Nick’s beer of choice—in front of the man without answering his question. I don’t want to give Oliver away because I know Nick will only hound him about using his magic again, but my silence answers for me. “It was Oliver, wasn’t it?” he says with an evil grin. “Oh, that boy is so busted. I’m telling Director West he’s using magic again.”

“Nick!” I snap. I take a breath in an attempt to not lose my temper. “Take it easy on him.”

“No way. He needs to—”

“He’s trying. He needs encouragement, but you can’t pressure him about it. Pressuring him will only make things worse. You’ll undo all his efforts. You have to let him do this at his own pace.”

Nick eyes me for a long minute. “You sound like you know from personal experience.”

I shrug and pick up my rag again. “I do,” I admit. I keep my eyes focused on the glass I’m cleaning as I say, “His aversion to magic is the same as my problem with all the physical stuff. I’m trying, but it has to be on my terms.”

I can’t help the way my eyes flick to Parker. He gives me a soft smile of understanding. I take a deep breath and start polishing another glass. “Today, Oliver felt comfortable enough to try using his magic. It was really hard for him, but he was successful. That’s ahugestep. You can’t force him to try to do too much all at once. That won’t help him.”

“Fine.”

Nick frowns and takes a huge swig of his beer. In the silence, Terrance’s pissed off voice travels down the bar to us. “No.Absolutely not.”

The fey are looking my way again, gesturing wildly with their hands while arguing with Terrance. He’s in his typical badass troll stance, glaring at the men and shaking his head.

Unable to resist any longer, I wander over to them. Parker and Nick follow. “Everything okay, T-man?”

He glares at me like he’s not going to say a word, but I cock an eyebrow and wait him out. He gives in with a grunt. “I was not the only fey attacked.”

“Just the first to survive,” one of the men mutters. He seems to be the leader of the group. He’s a short, stout man that looks vaguely familiar, though I can’t place him. I must have served drinks to him in the past. He stares at me with a severe expression, but I don’t think the frown has anything to do with me personally.

I shoot Terrance a worried look. “There’ve been other attacks?”

“Deaths,” the new man corrects.

“How many?” Nick butts in.

None of the fey seems thrilled to have him involved in the conversation, but the leader grudgingly answers. “Eleven, so far.”

I gasp. “Eleven!”

“All fey?” Nick asks.

The man grinds his teeth and gives him a curt nod.

“Any idea who’s doing it?” Parker asks.

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