Page 81 of Secrets of Ruin

Some of the immortals turned to inspect Varo and Orin, but they all turned away again. Only a dwarf at the end of the bar remained focused on them; a battle-ax lay on the bar before her, but she didn’t touch it.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

Brokk pondered if he’d told Maverick that Fabian was here.

“Two glasses of whiskey,” Orin said as he rested his elbow on the bar and turned to survey the crowd.

About thirty immortals sat at the booths lining the walls, and another ten had settled onto the barstools. Three humans sat at a high-top table five feet away; they didn’t seem fazed by the immortals amongst them.

By now, they’d adapted to living with those from the Shadow Realms. Plus, many immortals here weren’t easily distinguishable from a mortal. Lycans were taller, and the vampires had small, visible fangs that could be hidden.

The witch wore a dress with a pentagram, but so did many mortal women. The warlocks were almost impossible to distinguish, but Brokk knew who they were.

However, the orc in the corner didn’t exactly blend, and neither did the dwarf or the two pixies bobbing up and down near the stage. Sitting there was a mortal woman who played her guitar and sang about a California hotel.

Brokk continued searching the bar, but things didn’t change, and he didn’t see anyone resembling the sketches Kaylia and Maverick had created. When the lycan returned with Orin and Varo’s drinks, he placed them in front of them.

Resting his elbows on the bar, the man leaned closer to Orin before speaking. “If you’re here for the reason I think you are, he’s out back with a nymph. From what I know of him, he’ll return soon. Get him out of here as soon as possible and with as few problems as possible.”

Kaylia suppressed a small snort of laughter; Brokk’s mouth twitched toward a smile as bloodlust flooded his veins. Fabian was here and would soon be his.

Orin sipped his drink before setting it on the bar. “Of course.”

The lycan turned away and walked down to the dwarf with her battle-ax. Brokk didn’t have the patience for Fabian to make his return.

He started toward the hallway leading deeper into the building but stopped when a tall man emerged from the shadows. He was still buttoning his pants and grinning as he sauntered toward the other warlocks.

Red clouded Brokk’s vision, and his eyes narrowed on the man he planned to kill today. It wouldn’t be an easy death.

CHAPTER EIGHTY

The second Fabian emerged from the back, it felt like everything plunged out from under Kaylia. He hadn’t bothered to cast the glamour of his brother over himself; that was how much he believed he could roam the realms as himself without any concern of her finding out about him.

Her hands fisted as she watched him saunter over to the warlocks with a shit-eating grin on his too-handsome face. She’d love to punch the smile off his face, smash his teeth down his throat, and gouge out his eyes as she ruined all his perfection, but they had to be careful.

As Fabian settled in the middle booth occupied by his friends, he lifted his drink and sipped it while listening to the conversation. He hadn’t noticed Varo or Orin yet.

Kaylia’s teeth ground together as she eyed the group. Those warlocks might be a problem, but she wouldn’t let them stop her from making Fabian pay for what he’d done to her.

She had no idea what she’d do once she got her hands on him, but she was eager to find out. Her fingers curved into claws as she itched to tear him apart.

When Brokk started toward the table, Cole clasped his arm to hold him in place. Brokk glowered at him as Cole pointed at the warlocks.

“We have to go slow,” Cole mouthed.

Sahira’s fingers waved, and she murmured some words that the music covered. Sensing the magic, the witch looked around the room, but the warlocks were too focused on each other to pay attention to it. Eventually, the witch shrugged and returned to her drink.

When she finished with the spell, Sahira whispered, “Can Orin and Varo see us?”

“No,” Cole said. “The shadows around us are mine.”

“They can hear us,” she said. “I included them in the silencing spell. Those warlocks will give us trouble if we try to take Fabian out of here. Some of the other patrons might too, but that seems unlikely.”

“I don’t care,” Brokk said.

“Let them try,” Orin said, staring at Varo like he was conversing with him. “We have the Shadow Reaver and arach queen. None of those warlocks can create fire or manipulate shadows into tearing off someone’s head.”

“I’m stating a fact,” Sahira said. “Do we have any plan to get him out of here… other than brute force?”