by Jamie Davis
“You can try, old man,” Quinn said, winking at Taylor as she followed Clark from the room. She wasn’t as excited as Taylor was, but then, she hadn’t been left at home every time the others left the hideout to do something. Still, this should be an exciting evening. Her few interactions with the fae had left her with an understanding that they were nothing if not unpredictable.
Clark waited at the door to the training room. He took off his leather jacket and laid it on a chair along with his sword and scabbard. “You’re going to pay for that ‘old man’ remark. Let’s try coming up with a different counter to that new move you worked out the other day. You still haven’t been able to take me consistently when I use it on you. Now’s your chance to show an old man how it’s done.”
Quinn cringed. This training session was going to be a hard one, shortened by their evening plans or not. She stripped down to her jeans and tank top and picked up the wooden practice blade that matched her Bowie.
Across from her, Clark had already armed himself with his practice sword. He didn’t wait for her to assume a defensive position. He charged at her with his sword raised high. Before she knew it, she was down on the mat with his wooden blade pressed against her throat.
“Well, that counter didn’t work,” Clark said, helping her up. “Again.”
Quinn groaned as she stood and prepared to receive his next attack, trying to calculate in the back of her mind the number of bouts he could fit into a two-hour training session. The answer she came up with didn’t make her feel any better. Two seconds later, after she tried a different combination to counter Clark’s next attack, she found herself spinning through the air and landing hard on her back at the edge of the mat.
“Again.”
Chapter Eighteen
Quinn walked down the steps at the front of the abandoned clinic toward the car. Clark and Taylor were already there, waiting for her.
“Are you limping?” Taylor said with a chuckle. “Wow, Clark, you weren’t kidding when you said she might be late. She looks more than a little sore. What did you do to her?”
“I merely pointed out the difference between the words ‘old’ and ‘experienced.’ I believe Quinn knows the appropriate uses of them now.”
“Oh, man,” Quinn said as she walked up to the pair. “Is it going to be like this all night?”
Clark chuckled. “At least for the beginning of it. I’m still deeply hurt by your words.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Quinn said as she climbed into the front passenger seat. “Are we going or not? I need to put the last few hours behind me.”
“Yep,” Clark said as he got into the driver’s seat. “I can’t wait to see how this night ends.”
“If you think it won’t work, why are we going?” Quinn asked.
“I didn’t say it wouldn’t work. I’ve learned at this point that you have a way of twisting events to go your way, despite everyone else’s plans or beliefs. I’m looking forward to finding out what tonight’s epic twist will be.”
Taylor laughed from her spot in the center of the back seat. “Careful, Clark. You might fool us into thinking you’re enjoying yourself for a change.”
“Never.” Clark punctuated his statement by stepping on the accelerator and tearing up the gravel in the lot as they drove off.
Quinn couldn’t hide her smile. She was finally getting started on the steps to get her amulet repaired. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but that didn’t dampen her enthusiasm. Not even the aches and pains she felt from the drubbing Clark had given her in the training room earlier would do that. They’d fade soon enough as her huntress healing genes kicked in. She was never sore for more than a few hours after training.
Clark hadn’t said much about where he was taking them, only that it was a club owned and frequented by fae and other creatures living in secret alongside the humans in the city. Quinn pictured something fanciful and old, something like the striped pavilion tents she’d seen when she encountered the fae summit a few months before.
The image she conjured didn’t match up with what she saw when they pulled up across from the nondescript neighborhood restaurant in East Baltimore. She got out after Clark parked on the street and looked around. She’d lived in the city all her life, and this was just like many other working-class neighborhoods.
“The club is here?” Quinn asked, laughing a little in surprise.
“Surprised?” Clark said with a chuckle of his own. “Hiding in plain sight is something our mystical friends have mastered over the centuries. You have to try. Look for the signs that are there for anyone who possesses the ability to see.”
Quinn scanned the street in both directions and tried to spot anything that screamed fae. It all looked completely normal to her.
Taylor got out and stood next to her, doing the same thing, and then pointed at an alley across the street. “Ooh, it’s down there, isn’t it?”
“Good catch, Taylor. See, Quinn, it’s not hard.”
“I still don’t see anything. What are you talking about?”
“Try looking at it with your other sight engaged,” Taylor suggested. “It’s not there for normal people to see, just those who are magical in nature.”
Quinn didn’t want to give herself a headache accessing her huntress abilities outside the VR world, but she felt like she had to see what they were looking at. “This is why I need my amulet back. Then I wouldn’t have to risk a migraine just to see the equivalent of a fae’s neon sign.”
Taylor laughed. “That’s pretty good. You’re close. Go ahead and see what I mean.”
Quinn shook her head and closed her eyes, concentrating on engaging the HUD from the VR system. The stabbing pain began again in the back of her skull. After a vibration from the scar in the center of her chest, the overlay appeared, and Quinn opened her eyes.
She wasn’t sure how to see what they were looking at, but she concentrated and an icon she hadn’t seen before appeared. She engaged it. Right away, a colored filter rolled across her vision, tinting everything on the street in a blue outline. Then she saw it all and her mouth dropped in wonder.
“You see it now?” Taylor asked, a broad smile across her face.
Quinn nodded. She hadn’t been far off with her neon sign comment. There, at the opening to the alley, a glowing red and green rectangle floated in the air. She could see nothing holding it up. It hovered about eight feet from the ground at the mouth of the alleyway.
The orange-red lettering spelled out the name of the club. Below the word, a shamrock pulsed with a green glow.
“O’Malley’s?” Quinn read aloud. “Aside from the floaty sign, it looks and sounds like the name of a typical Irish pub.”
“It’s anything but typical. You’ll see.” Clark glanced left and right and then crossed the street and headed down the alley, disappearing into the shadows as soon as he entered.
“Come on,” Taylor said, tugging Quinn’s arm. “I’m not missing this for anything. We finally get a night out.”
Quinn smiled and followed her best friend across the street and into the alley. It was dark as they entered, as if the illumination from the streetlights out front was absorbed by something in there.
“Dammit, I need to see.” As soon as Quinn muttered the words, the alley lit up again.
Taylor clutched her arm. “I can’t see a damned thing.”
“Can you access magic or something like you did out front to see the sign?”
“I didn’t think of that. Is it the same?”
“I don’t know how it’ll work for you. Maybe you need to let out some of your shifter side.”
Taylor shook her head. “I don’t know, Quinn. I’m not in control of that part of me yet.”
“Try concentrating on the eyes,” Quinn suggested. “Think about seeing the world like a wolf would.”
Taylor stared straight ahead for a few seconds, then her eyes widened, and she turned around to face Quinn.
The change in her friend startled h
er at first. Taylor’s eyes had changed color—her usually light blue irises were a glowing pale yellow.
“It worked. I can see everything now. Awesome, I can see in the dark,” she said. Taylor stopped and stared at Quinn. “Why do you have that look on your face? Oh, no, did my face grow hair or something?”
“No, it’s not anything like that. You look like yourself, except for your eyes. They’re all glowy and yellow. It’s pretty cool, actually. You should see it.”
Taylor stomped her foot. “I can’t. There’s no mirrors or glass around here.”
Quinn pointed to Clark, standing farther down the alley, waiting for them. “Maybe there’s a mirror in there. You can check it out inside.”
Clark stood by a stairway down to the basement beneath the Italian restaurant. A smaller version of the O’Malley’s sign hovered above the concrete stairs.
Taylor skipped over to the hunter, with Quinn in tow. She smiled and said, “Taylor said my eyes are glowing. What do you think?”
Clark chuckled. “You’ll fit right in. There will probably be shifters down there, along with other sorts. Both of you, try to keep your comments to yourself, though. Some of the folk in there might be prickly.”
Taylor closed her mouth but didn’t stop smiling. She bounced on the balls of her feet and hooked her arm in Quinn’s as they followed Clark down the steps.
At the bottom, he pulled open a heavy steel door and stepped into a small foyer. The pulsing beat of a subwoofer vibrated the tiny room. Quinn couldn’t hear the music that went with it through the heavy wooden interior door.
“Clark Hunter, I haven’t seen you in quite a while. I thought you were dead until I heard from herself that you were kicking around. Still trying to save the world?”
The bouncer seated on the stool at the entrance had to be six and a half feet tall, although it was hard to judge with him sitting down. His head almost touched the ceiling from where he sat atop the barstool. He had a long beard that hung down to the middle of his chest. Beneath the flowing beard, he wore a white collared shirt and a green vest buttoned across his chest, although the buttons strained a bit when he took a deep breath to speak, and khaki pants.
“Just trying to survive, as always, Jonas. You know how it is.” Clark hooked a thumb toward the inside. “Is she in?”
“She was earlier, but she might have left out the back way. Based on what she’s said about you lately, I’m not sure she’ll be pleased you’re here.”
“Ungrateful as always.”
Jonas shrugged. “I just work here,” he said, nodding at Quinn and Taylor. “Those two young ladies with you? They seem a bit young for you if you don’t mind me saying.”
“Eww,” Taylor said. “He’s just a friend. We work together, okay?”
Jonas held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I shouldn’t have said anything. As usual, my big mouth got me in trouble,” he said ruefully. The bouncer pulled out a folded stack of bills from his pants pocket. “It’ll be a five bucks cover for each of you. There’s a live band tonight.”
Clark fished out a twenty and handed it to Jonas. “Keep the rest.”
“Thanks, bud. I always did like you.” Jonas stood and reached for the door. He was even taller than Quinn expected. He had to duck his head as he stepped back, pulling the door open.
Quinn had imagined a lot of things on the way there about what it would look like. The scene that greeted her as she walked in was nothing like any of her expectations.
As soon as the door opened, the pulsing beat of the subwoofer became the backbeat of an old country-western song. As she followed Clark into the club, peanut shells crunched beneath her feet with each step. Roasted peanuts filled a wooden barrel by the door, with a scoop and paper bowls so patrons could take some to their tables. Behind the barrel sat a stack of fifty-pound burlap sacks containing more peanuts. She wondered how many they consumed in a night to leave the floor littered with the shells the way it was.
Clark grabbed a handful of peanuts as he passed, breaking open one and popping the nuts in his mouth before discarding the empty shell on the floor. He angled toward the tables close to the bar, avoiding the dance floor in front of the bandstand. The five-piece group consisted of four men playing instruments, including guitar, bass, keyboard, and drums. The lead singer was a woman in tight blue jeans and a white satin shirt, with a long row of fringe across the front at the level of her breasts. All five of them wore cowboy hats.
Patrons filled the open floor, performing a line dance of some sort that had them occasionally slapping their boots as they turned in place. Taylor tugged Quinn, reminding her to keep moving, and she turned and hurried to catch up.
Clark settled down at a small round table by the wall. Quinn and Taylor sat down beside him.
“A freaking honky-tonk bar? Really?” Quinn said finally, still trying to take it all in.
Clark leaned closer and shouted so he could be heard over the band. “The fae go through phases when they become obsessed with different cultures. This particular phase has stuck longer than most. That damned Achy-Breaky song started it with them, just like it did with the humans. The difference was, it didn’t fade after a few years with the fae. They liked America in the old days when it had frontiers and lots of wild places. I think this makes them nostalgic for the past.”
Quinn shook her head. It was the most bizarre thing she’d seen in a while. It was just too strange.
Taylor seemed to be enjoying herself and wasn’t bothered by the strangeness of it all. “Come on. Let’s go dance. There are a bunch of cute guys up there.”
“No, I don’t think so,” Clark said. “I don’t know the moves.”
“It can’t be that hard.”
Quinn shook her head, and Taylor said, “Well, I’m not missing out on having fun, even if you two are.”
She jumped up, and with a yell, jumped into the line between two tall urban cowboys, laughing as she tried to get the footwork right.
Quinn smiled. Taylor could make friends anywhere. It was one of the things that had endeared her to Quinn. She’d used that trait to get a much younger Quinn to trust her when she needed it the most.
“I can’t figure that girl out,” Clark said. He laughed as Taylor missed a step and tripped the guy to her left. They both laughed it off, though, and they were soon back in the mix of people moving through the dance moves.
“She’s not that hard to understand. Taylor is exactly what she says she is. There’s never anything hidden with her. She shows the world the person she is without any reservations.”
“Not what I expected from someone who spends so much time behind a computer screen.”
Quinn nodded. “I think that’s why she’s this way when she’s out and around people. She gets lonely, even though she loves the work and challenges of programming. We really should have tried to get her out sooner than this. I’ve been too busy thinking about my own problems and not worrying about what she needed.”
“You shouldn’t beat yourself up about it,” Clark said. “This is the first opportunity we’ve had to do anything like this. There’s been a lot going on with her shifting and with us on the run, trying to regroup. Hopefully, we’ve started on the road to a little more stability.”
“I hope so,” Quinn said. She laughed as Taylor tripped again and almost took down a whole line of people.
A waitress came by the table. She barely stood taller than the surface. “What’ll it be?”
“Beer for me. Two Cokes for the ladies.”
“Be right back.”
The woman left toward the bar, and Quinn said, “At least she’s not a giant like Jonas outside.”
“She’s one of the owner’s daughters. They don’t get very tall.”
“They?” Quinn asked.
“Leprechauns.”
“No way!”
Clark laughed. “I didn’t tell you that on the way here? I must have forgotten.”
Quinn punched Clark on the shoulder. �
��No, you did not mention it. I think you decided to see if we noticed.”
“You would have picked up on it on your own, I suspect. The owner has a long relationship with the fae. A particular fae set him up in business over a hundred years ago when he first came here. In return, he keeps a place here for his patron to hang out and be safe from prying human eyes.”
“Who’s this patron?”
“Filippa.”
“What?” Quinn said and looked around. “No, let’s go right now. That woman betrayed us and got Miranda killed in the process. I’m not dealing with her again. She’s lucky I don’t hunt her down just to prove a point.”
Clark leaned in, his smile gone. “Watch what you say in here. These folks can be very prickly about things, especially when one of us threatens to hunt one of them down. It’s like talking about bombs in an airport.”
“But—”
“No. Listen to me. Sometimes you have to let past battles and losses go. The fae operate under their own code of loyalty and responsibility. You can’t ascribe human codes of conduct to them.”
“Aren’t you pissed off about what happened? They could’ve warned us not to come and rescue them. We could have avoided confronting Handon.”
Quinn’s anger had her voice rising in volume again. Clark held out a hand to quiet her down.
“There will be a time and place where we can play that card, but not in a way that threatens a fae princess, or any other fae, for that matter.”
“What, other fae like Alistair, her snooty butler?” Quinn nodded past Clark’s shoulder. The fae major-domo stood on the opposite side of the bar beside a wooden door. He stared right at the hunter and huntress.
“Him, too,” Clark said as he turned to see where she was looking. He stopped when he spotted Alistair. “Oh, good. He’s here. That means she’s still here as well. Sit tight while I go talk to him. You’re a little worked up, and the negotiations might be a little much for you right now.”
“I’m fine. Let’s go talk to him and get this over with. I had assumed she went back to wherever it was she came from in the old country.”