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“Haven’t really worked much today,” Parker admitted, eyeing the guesthouse. He didn’t know what he expected to happen with those ghosts, but something.
“To be expected,” Heath said. “Still, it’s nearly five…” Heath held up his hand and listened to the first church bell as it rang out in the distance. “Correction, it is five…”
“Church bells, five…?” Parker’s heart lurched in his chest. “Just in case, find the witches.”
Heath didn’t ask why; it was enough that Parker turned on his heels and hastily headed towards the bar. If Parker was worried, Heath was too.
~
Serendipity watched the room from her cushion on the back of the bar. Queen kitty in her little castle, she could see the whole room from there, and what she saw made her fur stand on end.
Amy was flustered and ready to break the heads of a couple of male tourists seated at the bar, they were drunk and obnoxious, and she didn’t do well with either condition. “Could the service get any slower?” one of the guys demanded, shooting his glass forward on the bar with nobody there to catch it before it fell.
The glass hit the floor, shattering into pieces, just as Amy turned with a couple of pints in her hand. Her foot hit the glass and the wet floor, and she lost her footing. With a shriek, she was falling, and not even the vampire, had he been there, could have saved her from hitting the deck. Her head was just a hair from hitting the crate Faith had put there to refill the shelf.
Amy shrieked from the slice and dice of the shattered glass cutting through the flimsy fabric of her shirt and tearing into her side. “Strike!” the repugnant tourist yelled and high-fived his friend as they laughed at Amy’s expense.
Faith witnessed the whole thing as she returned to the bar with an empty tray. Her foot hit the brass footrest, and she pushed up to look over the bar at Amy lying on the floor. “You okay?”
“Will be when I break some damn heads,” Amy bit out, trying to get up.
“Me first,” Faith ground out, stepping down and turning to the laughing tourist who had tossed the glass. With both handsgripping the tray, she swung it at his head, and the sound of the thud made her feel much better. “Son of a…!” she yelled, bringing the attention of two shifters who just walked in.
The drunk rallied, pulled back his fist and was about to launch it into Faith’s face when one of the shifters got in between him and the witch, catching the punch in his large hand and closing his fist until he heard the sound of bone breaking. “Family,” the shifter growled.
“Hey!” the other drunk said, stepping off his stool and allowing the drink to talk for him. “Try that with me.”
“No problem,” the second shifter said, picking the guy up by the collar of his shirt and belt and lifting him from the floor.
The shifters were taking their respective drunks to the door, and Hope opened it for them, wide-eyed and concerned for Amy.
Amy pushed up, eyed the bar, and was as mad as hell when she saw the drunks escorted outside. “Oh, hell no. Wait for me,” she said, using a crate to launch herself over the counter as she headed for the door.
Jennifer watched the fight with wide-eyed enthusiasm sitting at one of the tables with Evie. She enjoyed seeing how the witches had each other's backs, and she knew the shifters did too because Parker had rescued her when she hadn’t really needed it from beside the ship, but it was the thought that counted.
She popped a chicken ball into her mouth and gasped at the size of the shifter’s hand as he caught the punch aimed at Faith. Then she wasn’t having so much fun anymore as the chicken ball shot to the back of her throat, and she couldn’t make it go away – it wouldn’t come up or go down, but what distressed her the most was that she couldn’t breathe.
Evie was about to push to her feet when she saw that jerk about to punch Faith, but Jennifer’s hand hit her in the arm, and she turned to see the wide-eyed fear on the child’s face. “Jen?” Evie asked, turning, confused as to what was wrong.
True rolled her eyes at Faith’s antics, but she couldn’t blame her this time. She’d been heading out of the kitchen with an order for table five when all hell had kicked off.
The whole bar was watching the shifters escort the drunks outside, and she figured the fun was over and headed towards her table when she flicked a look at Evie and noted the panic on her face.
“What’s happening?” True demanded, depositing the tray on the next table and rushing to Jennifer’s side.
“She can’t breathe,” Evie said, getting to her feet and battling the panic that gripped her.
“Food!” True said, dragging Jennifer’s chair back with the child still on it before she wrapped her arms around Jennifer from behind and hauled her to her feet.
With a little magic and a quick Heimlich jolt, the offending chicken ball shot out of Jennifer’s mouth and hit Parker’s feet just as he and Heath took in the drama in the room.
Jennifer gasped in a breath and coughed it back out as Evie dropped to her backside in her chair and reached for Jennifer with relief.
“What the hell is going on?” Heath demanded as Parker left his side to care for his mate and Jennifer.
“The heck if I know,” True said, eyeing the bar door where Amy was trying to elbow her way around the shifters that werenow blocking the entrance to the drunks they had deposited on the ground outside.
“Let me at ‘em,” Amy demanded, but the shifters didn’t seem to like that idea. Fed up with being elbowed, one of the shifters scooped Amy up like a child and held onto her as she clawed at the air to escape his hold. True might have laughed at the sight, but she was still reeling from Jennifer’s lucky escape with the chicken ball of death.
