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The bouncer has been waving everyone in front of us through. Some with a cheery greeting, others with a quick pat down or ID check.

“No way,” he says, when we reach the front. “No Sadler associates. And absolutely no Sadler family members.”

Chrissie crosses her arms over her chest in a gesture of pacification. “It’s been a long week. We just want to party, same as everyone else.”

The bouncer shakes his head. “I’m going to have to call the manager.”

My body tenses enough for Chrissie to notice, but then again, she’s always been an exceptional empath. “The manager, not the owner,” she whispers to me. “Don’t panic. Nikki can be a bit full-on, but she’s reasonable.”

The bouncer mouths something into his radio. I harbour a sudden fantasy of blasting him aside with magic and storming in there. I sigh to myself. I’ve been back for a month. Where are these thoughts coming from?

The woman whom Gabriel had left to guard the square on the night of the Greenfire incident strides over to meet us. Tonight, her short dark hair is slicked back, and she’s wearing a sharp suit and extremely dark glasses, presumably to hide all traces of the glowing eyes behind them.

She holds her hands out towards us and smiles. “Ms Sadler and her husband. Master Sadler and his sidekick. The Sadlers’ favourite young enforcer. And joy of joys, the Sadlers’… lawyer. What a charming delegation.”

“We just want a drink, Nikki,” Liam says. “We’re not looking for trouble.”

“People who aren’t looking for trouble don’t usually travel with their legal representative in tow.”

“Are you going to let us in?” Ray asks. His frame practically fills the doorway.

Nikki shrugs. “You can have a few drinks. If you want to use the gaming tables, you’ll need to wear blockers. That includes her. The slightest hint of trouble—be that trying to kill someone or just mesmerising the bar staff into giving you freebies—and you’re out.”

“And who’ll arrange that?” Shane puts his hands on his hips.

Nikki frowns. “Me, up to a point. Ably assisted by our bouncers. Though rest assured that the boss is around, too. He’s having a nice, relaxing evening with a handsome young practitioner. But if things kick off, I’m sure he’ll happily lay him aside and put an end to proceedings.”

I glance at the others. “If Gabriel’s here, I don’t think we should be.”

Nikki laughs. “I wouldn’t worry. If you’d brought Brendan along, Gabe would probably have tried to kill him in retribution for his father, but as long as you’re well behaved, he’ll have zero interest in you.” She looks pointedly at our little group and then her gaze settles on me. “Or in most of you, anyway.”

“Are you done?” Chrissie strides forward. “I think you’re overcompensating. And if “Gabe” wants to talk to our lawyer, he can come through us. In the meantime, we intend to have a nice evening.”

Nikki steps aside with a flourish. “Then welcome to Casa Thornber. Enjoy your evening. And do try to keep her away from the boss. He’s a sweetheart really, but he can be a nightmare when he gets an idea in his head.”

* * *

I’ve never been to The Prohibition before. Unlike The Angel, it’s been around for decades, but unsurprisingly, my family never really made a habit of visiting Thornber-owned establishments.

It’s lavish inside. Provincial clubs, bars, and casinos are often depressing places, trying to emulate the glamour and debauchery of a different place and time. But Mannith’s magic has worked its way into the fabric of the venue. The floors are black marble. The walls are red tiles with full-length mirrors. There are no electric lights, only candles. Expensive perfume and crisp champagne scent the air. And though the clientele are mostly just local people, they are all dressed to the nines and looking the part.

“Can we have a go on the roulette wheel?” I’m excitable, like a child at a funfair. There’s no trace of Kate Elner’s stern demeanour as I skip through the room in my too-high heels.

“Maybe later,” Chrissie replies. “You heard Nikki. If we’re gambling, we’ll have to wear blockers. I’m not in the mood for that. I’m in the mood for finding a table, getting some drinks, and showing we don’t give a damn about the Thornbers.”

She walks ahead, parting the crowd, her heels clicking on the tiles. There’s a circular bar in the middle of the room, with gaming tables positioned around it.

At a pointed look from Chrissie, four people occupying prime position bar stools jump to their feet and dash away.

“Well done, Chris,” Liam says, throwing himself down onto one of the stools and dragging Shane over to perch beside him.

Ray sits down, too, and Chrissie scoots up onto her husband’s knee. “Connor, Kate, take a seat,” he says.

I clamber on to one of the stools. All at once, my excitement at a fun night out with my family and my new lover, and my delight at the extravagance of the venue falls away, to be replaced by a sense of foreboding. I lean against Connor as subtly as I can manage. My siblings are clearly interested in a public show of strength, but I’m feeling anything but strong tonight.

“Can we get a bottle of vodka here?” Ray asks the barmaid. “And in case your manager is listening, we’re perfectly happy to pay upfront.”

She gives us a nervous nod and brings out an ice bucket, the bottle and some mixers, and six chilled glasses.