Page 38

Honestly, this is my kind of bar. Fun, no frills, good alcohol. The only drawbacks to this situation are: one, we’re in the Otherworld, not earth; and two, I can’t drink, thanks to a repayment Des took from me weeks ago—oh, and three, I’m walking into a bar still wearing my training leathers. At this point, the outfit is more cutouts than actual leather.

The Bargainer opens the door for me, and the two of us step inside the pub.

One by one, the rowdy patrons notice us. Within seconds, the place goes deathly silent.

“Um, was that supposed to happen?” I whisper to Des. He doesn’t bother responding.

At the far end of the room, a chair scrapes back, and a huge, hulking fairy steps forward—though it’s a bit of a stretch to call him afairy, at least by my own definition of the word.

The man’s scarred face, torn leathers, and wild red hair make me think he’s less a fairy and more a pirate.

His golden-brown eyes are harsh as he stalks toward me and Des. No one else in the establishment moves, all eyes riveted to us.

“What the hell are you doing here, Bastard?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

My eyebrows shoot up. I don’t think that, aside from me, I’ve heard anyone insult the Bargainer to his face.

A different sort of unsettling silence now cloaks the room, like someone lit a match over a pile of gunpowder and everyone is preparing for the explosion to come.

And then, like something from a movie, both men laugh and embrace each other in a bone-crushing hug.

Whaaa?

I stare at them incredulously. For the life of me, I’ll never understand men, no matter what world they come from.

The roguish fairy pulls away to look my mate over. “How the hell are you, Desmond?”

Desmond. No wonder the whole room went still. These people recognize their king. He must’ve lifted whatever enchantment he placed on himself right before we stepped inside the bar.

Des nods, a sly smile spreading across his face. “Real good, my brother. Real good.”

“Ha! I know that smile,” the redheaded fairy says, clapping him on the back. “Whose fortune have you swindled this time? Or”—his eyes swivel to me—“is it a wife you’ve stolen? It’s been a while since you last brought a girl here, you scoundrel.”

Oooh, cringey-cringe. I could’ve lived without knowing that.

To me, the redheaded man says, “Beware of this one.” He shakes Des’s shoulder. “He likes to ruin his women before he cuts them loose.”

Ruin his women? A hot wave of jealousy rises in me.

Des’s expression sobers. “It’s not like that. At all.” His eyes land heavily on mine, and I think he’s trying to beam me an apology.

I suppose this situation is only fair. After all, Des had to quietly endure seven years of me hooking up with other men while he waited for me to unknowingly repay my final wish. I can grit my teeth through a little of Des’s own dating history.

The redheaded fairy reassesses me. This time, he must notice something he hadn’t before because he says, “She’s not just any girl, is she?”

“No.” Des is still flashing me an intense, heated look.

The other man stares at the Bargainer for a moment longer, and then he lifts his eyebrows. “Oh—oh,” he says, “this is the girl you’ve been searching for?”

Des nods.

The fairy turns to me again, and he sweeps me into a hug that practically chokes the breath out of me. “Welcome to the family, then,” he says, his voice rumbly. “My sincerest apologies to you for getting stuck with the Bastard for a mate.”

He finally lets me go, looking from me to Des like a proud father.

This issoweird.

“Ah well,” he says, sucking in a deep breath through his nostrils. “This changes things for the better.” He claps Des on the side of his arm. Then, seeming to remember that the two of us are just standing there in the threshold of the bar, he says, “Well, c’mon, let me get the Bastard and his bride a drink. It’s the least I can do.”