Page 44 of Bitter Spirits

That he could believe. When Rory and Zev first met, she had been working under the aegis of the Western Arcane Guild, a kind of magical mercenary storefront. And everyone knew the Guild took a hefty cut of earned fees. After her role in retrieving Emilio’s nephew, she turned fully independent, hoping to minimize that cut. Then she caught the attention of the Arcane Council, in part because of her connection to the legendary Sabella Rossi-Giordano, a matriarch of one the original Arcane Families. As Sabella’s niece, she carried a sort of curiosity cachet, but her bigger draw to the Council was her Prism ability. Being able to negate magical attacks made Rory a magical unicorn with one of the most powerful entities in society. The Arcane Council was keen to acquire her talent and then lock that shit down. Unfortunately, that kind of focus left Rory facing a higher-than-normal amount of danger. In an effort to keep breathing, the intrepid Transporter had turned down the Council’s recent contractual offer, hoping to sidestep the attached exclusivity clause in favor of cultivating her own resources. Zev and Rory were still braced for the potential fallout that came with rejecting the Council.

“Hey, been meaning to ask, how’s business?” Locke asked.

“Better than I thought, actually,” Rory said.

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “At first, I was worried I’d shot myself in the foot by turning down the Council’s backing, but demand is starting to pick up. I even snagged a couple of contracts out of Vegas and California, which means longer runs for me, but the money’s good.”

“And the Council? Are they pulling any shit?”

“Not yet,” she said blandly, though her eyes betrayed a flash of unease. “They’ve actually reached out with a couple of routine jobs, which went fairly smoothly. For now, I’m taking their requests on a case-by-case basis.”

“Smart.”

“I try to be. Speaking of…” She turned to Zev and covered his hand on the counter. “I know I said it earlier, but it bears repeating—be careful with Beto. I get the impression he really likes his position as Mr. Moneybags for the Filthy Rich, and so long as he swings clear of any troubling implications, he won’t be in any hurry to cut himself loose.”

Zev reversed his grip and brought Rory’s hand up so he could brush a kiss over her knuckles. “We just want to tug on a few lines and see what rises to the top. I’ll be fine. Promise.”

Hearing Zev echo Isa’s favorite refrain reignited Locke’s irritation. Maybe it was due to lack of sleep or simply the fact that Locke was still stewing over their early-morning conversations, but either way, he couldn’t suppress an annoyed snort.

Rory shot him a look. “Anything happens to him, it’s your ass, Turon.”

He lifted his hands from his cup and held them, palms up, in mock surrender. “Like Zev said, we’re just going to ask him a couple of questions.” He reclaimed his cup. “Besides, Maeve doesn’t like shit going down at her place.”

The Transporter frowned. “You know, I could always ask around, see what I can find out about this Angel guy. Might be safer than getting into it with Beto.”

“No!” The denial erupted in stereo.

She rolled her eyes. “Chill. Jeez, you two. Fine.”

Disgruntled, Locke looked at Zev. “You told her?”

“You wanted a meet with Montenegro,” the other man said, clearly unrepentant. “She could get us one but wanted to know why, so I told her about your run-in at the club.”

“The guy sounds like a douche,” Rory added.

“Oh, he’s definitely a douche. He’s got a hard-on for Isa, but it’s not like she takes it seriously.” Locke caught Rory’s repeat of Isa’s name and Zev’s responding nod but ignored both as his resentment and frustration boiled over. “I swear to all that’s holy and unholy, for a smart woman, she’s being pretty fucking stupid, thinking I’m going to—what? Just leave her curvy ass out there so that dick can tag it? As if that was a fucking option.”

“And yet you’re here and she’s… where?” Zev’s voice was carefully neutral as he let go of Rory.

“Back at the damn bar with Des. Telling me she’ll be fine,” Locke snarled—he was coming to hate that word—“when I know damn well she’s just waiting for me to walk away.”

“And will you?” Rory asked, her dark eyes on him, deadly serious, as she stood next to Zev.

Something in her face had him checking his temper. “No, but getting her to believe that is next to impossible.”

Rory’s lips twitched. “Of course it is,” she said with a whisper of amusement.

He narrowed his eyes. “What?”

She continued to study him, the hard edges fading. Finally, she shook her head. “Nothing, just putting some pieces together.”

“Rory,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Locke,” she shot back in the same aggrieved tone before sighing. “Look, seriously, it’s really nothing. Though I have to admit I’m super surprised Wonderland is mixed up in this at all. I mean, Cass is all about staying out of shit.” Rory grimaced. “Correction—she’ll stay out of shit, but she won’t hesitate to stir it up.”

“Cass is in Vegas, dealing with a family thing, and Grayson’s with her,” Locke told her, not wanting to get into the death of Cass’s grandmother. “And Wonderland is not mixed up in this.” If that rumor got off the ground, Isa would never forgive him. “I needed insight into the club scene, and Isa could provide it. That should have been the end of the story.”