“Yes. I did seem to be pretty good at finding the invisible people in the tests,” Edgar said. “I got a few lumps on my poor wee noggin for my efforts, though.”
Niamh glowered. “Are ye tryin’ to mimic my accent? Do I sound Scottish?”
“Ah.” Edgar clasped his hands in front of him innocently. “I see what I did there.”
“But do ye?” Niamh pushed.
His simpering smile could make a glutton give up food. “Not really.”
“If yer not careful, I’ll retire ye meself.”
“Yes.”
“Here we go.” Tristan worked his way to the front of their group. “I know this is a stretch, but try to act normal.”
“I’m impersonating a gargoyle by wearing a cape,” Sebastian muttered. “How normal did you anticipate this going?”
The bar wasn’t nearly as dingy as Niamh had expected from the exterior. Light streamed in through the door, left open despite the chill in the air, with two large windows embedded on either side. Though the bar’s varnish was rubbed away in many spots, the stools were newer and the booths looked recently refurbished. Business must’ve been good despite the small size of the town. They clearly relied heavily on the shifters’ patronage.
Only a few people graced the seats, two large-bellied men up in their years and a red-cheeked middle-aged guy with greasy hair.
Tristan stood in the empty space in front of the door, between the bar and a table positioned against the wall. He surveyed the surroundings for a moment, looking for any invisible lurkers, before
taking a seat at the table, facing the door.
“Sebastian.” Tristan pointed at the seat opposite him. “Wings go outside of your chair.”
“I thought my life might go many ways,” Sebastian murmured, clearly to himself, “some of them truly terrible, but I never imagined getting lessons on how to be a gargoyle.”
“Oh, quit yer grumblin’，” Niamh said, taking a seat at the bar. She wasn’t a low table sorta person in a place like this. Too much effort to get up and down. “It could be worse.”
“Like lessons on how to be a puca,” Edgar said.
Niamh stopped before sitting and stared at the vampire for a moment. “Did someone wind ye up?
What’s makin’ ya so unbearably chatty all of a sudden?”
Edgar made like he was pulling a zipper across his mouth. He was worse than usual, lately. He was probably excited to unleash his plants on the unsuspecting.
“Sit here,” she told Edgar, pointing to the stool beside hers as she lowered. “I think I’d better keep me eye on ye. We don’t need ye spookin’ the customers and getting us kicked out before we have what we need.”
A tanned bartender came out of an opening at the back, what looked to be an entrance to a kitchen or backroom. She noticed the new people, her light brown eyes darting between Niamh and Sebastian. It was clear she was about to turn toward the bar but slowed when she noticed Tristan’s back. Her gaze took in the wings pooling on the ground in a way capes didn’t, and then the massive shoulders supporting them.
With a little crease between her brows, she started that way. Not even Sebastian’s new mug could put her off checking out that great big gargoyle-monster.
“Hey, boys.” The bartender stopped where she could see them both, and then her body jolted as if she’d just gripped a bolt of lightning. Niamh watched as the younger woman soaked in Tristan, taking in his face, chest, and then his glowing eyes. This time her words came out breathy. “Hi. What, ah…”
She cleared her throat. “What can I— What are you?”
Tristan looked up at her slowly, not at all reacting to her sudden flush and flustered demeanor. He was used to it, Niamh knew. The amount of women who fawned all over him in O’Briens was joke-worthy.
“Thirsty,” he said, his deep, dangerous tone making her visibly shiver. She backed up a pace, and Niamh wondered if he was releasing a bit of his special magic, a nightmare-inducing sort of emotional terror. Jessie could replicate it in spell form, but not nearly so controlled. They’d felt it for the first time at Edgar’s shite flower show a few weeks back. Niamh had meant to research which creatures were known for such magic, but she hadn’t had a chance leading up to this trip.
Regardless, the effect would ensure the bartender stayed behind the bar, probably close to Niamh
—a position that would allow her to admire his face and body without getting the scare factor.