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“That was Kai. His family has a vacation house in town. They visit a couple times a year.”

“Oh,” her voice sounds curious but disinterested in him personally, which makes my chest swell. “He was very . . . friendly.”

Lottie’s giggle is just as musical as her singing, and I can feel her amusement as if it were my own. Light and airy, a soft tickling in my stomach.

“Yeah, he’s friendly, alright. Witheveryone. He’s relatively harmless, though. You tell him no, he won’t push it. He might flirt and sweet-talk you, but he won’t be forceful. You don’t have to worry about him,” I tell her, knowing she must be concerned after the whole Roman incident.

“That’s good to know.”

I stare down at her, and when our eyes lock, we stand there silent and motionless for a few moments before Ginger’s snickering snaps me out of my stupor.

“So, did we win?” I ask, redirecting my attention back to the game at hand.

“Oh, yeah. We did.”

Turning, I take in the table; all stripes and the black eight ball are gone, and four solids remain.

“You are my hero, Lottie Pickle.”

She smiles, and a fierce protectiveness for this woman floods my veins.I’ll do anything to keep that smile on her face.

“I try.”

“How about two out of three?” Ginger offers, trying to salvage her loss.

“What? You want to lose twice?”

Lottie’s burn finds its mark, and Ginger’s jaw drops while Becca hisses in laughter.

“Okay, miss smarty-pants. You just think you’re such hot shit because you managed to beat me once, but that doesn’t mean you can beat me twice.”

I can see Ginger's competitiveness growing, and I know she’s going to demand a rematch, but I won’t let that happen. One game is enough torture for the night.

Stepping between the two, I hold out my hands in surrender. “All right, how about we get a few drinks and sit down for a bit? There’ll be plenty of opportunity to play again later.”

There won’t be a later.

All the girls agree, Ginger more reluctantly than the others, but I manage to persuade her with offers to pay for the drinks. We find a table far away from the karaoke happening on the corner stage, and the girls sit as I go to the bar to order the drinks. Ryder joins me, a silent companion as he assists in carrying all the glasses to the table.

The girls all wanted blue moons, Evelyn’s specialty. Lottie is still amazed at the glowing drink that she can’t figure out. None of us tell her how she does it, of course, because it’s part of Evelyn’s magic.

She’s a nymph with earth and animal magic, a mixture that gave her bioluminescent abilities. With just a touch, she can temporarily give things the ability to glow like bioluminescent fish or fungi.

Settling in with our drinks, we fall into light conversation, commenting on whoever is on stage attempting to perform. Lottie is gifted with one of Dottie’s performances, which she claps to wildly, asking for an encore, much to everyone’s dismay but to Dottie’s delight. And, of course, Dottie is more than willing to oblige.

“Don’t encourage her. She has enough confidence as it is and very little talent to back it up,” I chide playfully.

The drinks have relaxed everyone, even Ryder, whose stoic features crack the tiniest bit at our banter.

“Oh, nonsense. She enjoys it; let her enjoy it. There are so few great joys in life.”

So very true.

Although the girls keep their attention focused on the stage or each other, mine and Ryder’s swivel around the room occasionally. Checking to ensure everything is copasetic.

Everything seems to be going great until a duo of younger girls take the stage and start singing some poppy song I don’t know. Since Lottie sits right next to me, I notice immediately when her demeanor shifts from easy and relaxed to quiet and stiff. I eye her, worried she’s sick or perhaps she saw something non-human I hadn’t caught, which freaked her out.

Looking around, no one’s glamour seems to be slipping. I look back at Lottie, and I can smell her panic. It’s sticky and clammy, smelling like damp mold. It curls my nose, and now I’m starting to panic. I look to Ginger only to see her in a similar but less frantic state. She’s eying Lottie warily but trying not to show it.