Page 29 of Bitter Spirits

The hair on the back of Locke’s neck rose as something unseen sniffed around him, bringing with it a skin-ruffling scent. Uneasy, his magic stirred, ready to snap its jaws at the threat. Remembering Isa’s earlier warning about Angel’s siphoning power, he played possum, letting his possessive side rise to the fore and take center stage.

Angel turned to Isa and murmured with a hint of menace, “Interesting pets you’re keeping, chiquita.”

There was an actual temperature drop in the air around Isa. Locke was surprised when she didn’t default to her typical cutting rebuke but instead simply watched Angel as if he were nothing more than a curious, potentially dangerous insect.

“I am surprised to see you here.” Angel’s voice had cooled. “I thought you didn’t do this scene anymore. Too—what was it you called it? Problematic?”

“It wasn’t the scene, Angel,” she said without inflection. “It was you, and that hasn’t changed.”

Something flared deep in Angel’s eyes, and for a moment, the monster peeked out from behind the charm. “Yet here you are.”

“My choice, not hers,” Locke said, wading through the treacherous currents lapping around Isa.

Angel’s attention snapped back to him. “Is that so?”

Keeping his tone dismissive, Locke drawled, “Heard about this place from a friend, got an invite, decided to surprise her.” He looked at the woman in question and squeezed her hip. When she turned her face up to his, he said, “Surprise.”

That got him a small smile.

It also earned him an irritated huff from Angel. “Please.”

They turned back to see he had an arm raised and was motioning toward the empty seat on the curved couch, where their silent audience watched the unfolding drama.

“Sit.” It was no less than an order gritted out through a forced smile.

Isa led the way to the booth. As they got closer, Locke recognized the male half of the couple sitting on the end nearest to them—Janek Healy, deep-pocket investor in Signature Enterprises, an investment firm Emilio had gotten Locke to dig into over a year ago when the Delphi serum first came to light. Interesting to find the man here with someone like Angel, but considering that the woman at his side was too young to be his wife, maybe it wasn’t so surprising. There couldn’t be many places Healy could indulge his adulterous intentions without gaining public scrutiny. And the gods knew no one here would risk themselves to expose someone else’s misdeeds.

Healy and his companion shifted over, making room on the couch, while Angel rejoined the now pouting blonde, who alternately glared at Isa and eyed Locke with speculation. Isa did that female thing of smoothing a hand over her rounded ass before taking her seat and crossing her long legs. Whatever material her pants were made of was light enough that the movement caused it to ebb and flow like water. She left room for him, but instead of taking it, he braced a hand just behind her head on the edge of the seat. He had no intention of being caught unawares or trapped in the narrow space. She looked up at him in silent question.

“I’m good,” he said.

A server moved in and quickly cleared the glasses before taking requests. When she got to them, Isa did a repeat of their earlier order and the server glided away.

“Everyone, this is Isa and her pet.” Angel wrapped an arm around the blonde. “Isa, pet, everyone.”

Locke was amused by Angel’s continued condescension, a clear sign that Locke’s mere presence was providing enough of a threat to make the man defensive.

“You look familiar,” Healy said, studying Locke. “Have we met?”

“No, I don’t think we have,” he lied. When Healy’s jaw tightened and his gaze narrowed with speculation, something told Locke to step carefully. “But it is possible we crossed paths at some point.”

“What is it you do?” Healy asked.

“Acquisitions.” It was a vague but accurate answer Locke often used and one that would work easily in this crowd. Especially as money appeared to be a factor in, well, everything. It also appeared to appease Healy’s rising suspicions.

Conversation halted as the server returned with their drinks. When she left, Angel eyed Isa over the rim of his glass. “I remember when such things bored you.”

Isa paused with her drink halfway to her lips, her eyes sweeping over the young blonde before landing on Angel. Her voice, when it came, was dismissive. “Much like a good whiskey, some tastes improve with age.”

A strange relief bled through Locke. The acerbic witch he knew and adored had finally made an appearance. Considering how Angel’s knuckles whitened around his glass, he was less impressed.

“It’s good to see your palate has… evolved,” Angel said. When Isa simply sipped her drink and didn’t bother to hide the small, secretive curl of her lips, he tried again. “Isa was one of my more popular bartenders once upon a time, back before she decided to try her hand at running her own place. Well, not really on your own, as you have—what, two?” He flicked a look at Locke. “Or is it three partners now?”

Unruffled, Isa balanced her glass on her knee. “Just the two.”

“Well, should you ever need another, I’m always looking to expand.”

Not batting an eye, Isa drily replied, “I don’t think Wonderland would fit with your portfolio.”