by Bree Moore
“Understood.” Tyson’s voice cracked a bit, and his eyes widened ever-so-slightly. Otherwise it was a decent poker face.
“You and your friends stay until closing, then. Drinks on the house. For now.” The man turned away from them.
“So, do we order, or…?” Becca asked.
The barkeeper responded without turning around. “The blonde gets a Rum and Coke, a Jameson and Ginger for the psychic, and the dark one would prefer a Mango Tonic.” He turned around, sliding a drink across the counter.
Becca took a tentative sip and nodded. “How’d you know?”
The barkeeper grinned a little wider than the average human, and his eyes flashed yellow. “Call it a gift.”
When he went back to making drinks for the others, Becca ducked toward Tyson, and Avaan leaned in across her back. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to shake off the sensation of his warm breath on her neck.
“Can we trust this guy? And what’s this about his wife?” Becca hesitated, and then dropped her voice to a whisper. “Can you do it? Heal her, I mean. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, it’s fine. I have a feeling I can. I don’t know what that means yet. I’m still learning to trust this…this sense.”
“You have metaphysical abilities, and I’m a snake. Look at us.” She laughed, shaking her head. “To think we assumed we’d be human our whole lives.”
Tyson nodded as the bartender passed him a short glass. He rubbed at the condensation on the side. “We can’t hide forever,” he said, taking a sip of the drink. “And despite our newfound abilities, we’re pretty much powerless to find out what Lilith is planning, much less confront her.”
“Hah! Confront the witch? It would mean our deaths.” Avaan knocked back the opaque, yellow liquid in his glass.
Becca set down her glass. “Then we get more power, somehow, before we face her. We find the Transcendental Redemption Society, tell them about what happened here. Maybe they would help us.” She did her best to keep the shakiness out of her voice, swirling the ice cubes in her glass. Their friends needed help. Running without looking back wasn’t an option.
They had to give it their best shot without getting caught by either side, or they could kiss their own freedom, and maybe their lives, goodbye.
⇺ ⇻
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Acknowledgements
Writing a book is no easy task, and I could never do it alone. Thanks to my writing group for trying to keep up with my lightning fast pace, for cheering me on when things got hard, and for being there for everything else. Here’s to another seven years writing together!
Special thanks to Amanda for making it all the way through and re-reading the ending like four times. You’re my hero.
As usual, I owe so much to my husband, who takes over the house and kids when I need to escape and write. You’re the best partner I could ask for.
I want to thank my faithful readers, especially those who have stuck with me since “Woven” was first published. You’ve kept me going with your help with my launches, beta reading, and general support.
Thank you.
About the Author
Bree Moore lives in Utah with her amazing husband, six children, and two cats. When she’s not busy homeschooling or folding laundry, she sneaks off to write more urban fantasy.
Bree has a passion for pregnancy and childbirth, which influences her female-led stories. She loves shopping for groceries like other women like shopping for shoes (no, seriously), movies that make her cry, and Celtic music. She likes both her chocolate and her novels dark.
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www.authorbreemoore.com.