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Magical Midlife Battle (Leveling Up, #8)(19)

Author:K.F. Breene

“How do ye know that?” Niamh asked.

“Oh, you can always tell,” Edgar said, nodding. “Always. Right, Mistress Bartending?”

Niamh was about to knock him off his stool when the bartender said, “I can. See? Vampires know.

There’s this energy those guys put out—they pretend not to notice each other’s presence, as if the other person doesn’t exist. I usually see that attitude in guys who want to fight each other. These guys, though, have no animosity. They just sit there quietly, two semi-identical antisocial guys a few feet apart, staring at virtually nothing. It’s weird, man. It’s not right.” She leaned against the bar now. The floodgates had opened. “And you know what else is weird?” She glanced up when someone walked in through the door. Confusion knotted her brow. “Okay, seriously, what’s up with the capes?”

“Hey.” Ulric sat kitty-corner to Niamh. “What’s going on?”

Jasper took the seat next to him. “We got tired of waiting around.”

“Bugger off, will ya?” Niamh groused. “I was just talkin’ with…” She waited for the bartender to provide her name.

“Tammy. The regulars call me Tam-tam.” She was turning on the charm for the new additions, her smile sweet and a little spicy. “What are you guys? Or is it a secret?”

Both gave her a delighted look—someone new to enchant with gargoyle charm.

“You’ve never seen a gargoyle before?” Ulric asked.

“If not, I am happy to let you inspect me physically,” Jasper said. “Just say the word.”

“Fer feck’s sake,” Niamh muttered.

The bartender’s eyes lit up. “Gargoyles? Really? ” She put her hand to her chest. “I’m a Jane. But I know all about…” She made a circle in the air with her finger. “What can I get you? You know, before that very close inspection…”

The boys preened at her flirtatiousness and placed their orders.

Niamh stayed in character, since the bartender was within hearing distance, and gave a gossipy account of the conversation. She knew Ulric would pick up the baton. He was great in these situations.

“Oh yeah, something is definitely off,” Ulric said quietly, leaning in. He put a well-timed glance over his shoulder at the door, then down the bar. “There’s no shifters in here, are there? Or the…

weird people, whoever they are?”

“Do ye think we’d be talkin’ about it if there were?” Niamh shot back.

“Right, right.” Ulric glanced at the door again. “I’m a little anxious to find out what’s going on, aren’t you?”

The bartender set the guys’ drinks down in front of them and then got another round of whiskey for Niamh and Edgar before leaning in again. She seemed to have totally forgotten about the two at the table.

“Okay,” she said, “tell me if this is weird. Everyone else thinks I’m nuts, but they’re all Dicks or shifters trying to get laid, so…” She gave a long-suffering look. “The oddly dressed out-of-towners come in in shifts, it seems like. I don’t mean shifts measured by hours or days, either. We’re talking weeks. There’ll be three guys who’re suddenly regulars for a week or two at a time. Those three will come in almost every day, when the place gets lively, and nurse their beers. Right? So three guys for a week or two. Then the next week, three different guys. Same schedule. Same weird kinda dress code.

Same not talking to each other. Then the next week…”

“It’s always three?” Jasper asked in confusion.

“And it’s always guys?” Ulric asked. “Do they hit on anyone?”

“Yes, always three,” Tim-tam or whatever her name was said. “Always guys. Rarely talk to anyone. If a drunk shifter tries to engage in conversation, they don’t say much but don’t shrug off the conversation, either.”

Plying for information without asking for it. It made people trust you more, and drunk people just kept talking and talking, their filter entirely gone.

Still, Tim-tam obviously didn’t know what was going on with the pack, so the shifters mustn’t have given away too much in her presence. Then again, the mages could have used a privacy spell of some sort, keeping others from shushing the drunk guy into silence.

“Do ye ever see them again?” Niamh asked. “Once they switch out for the week or what have ye, do they ever come back?”

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