“Today is getting on my last nerve,” I said.
I finished pouring my beer into the glass and took a large gulp as Niamh said, “I am right there with ye.”
Too bad she was part of the problem.
A couple of hours passed, and the drinks were still flowing. Kace turned out to be pleasant company, but I was tired and still heart-sore, and I honestly didn’t want to have to try so hard. Being polite wasn’t normally a lesson in patience, but Kace had caught me on a bad day, and Niamh definitely wasn’t helping.
Thankfully, Austin was finally getting close. He’d answer Kace’s question, and then Kace would be on his way.
Except I knew that wasn’t quite true. Kace was trying to get to know me, and since he hadn’t come right out and said he was interested, I couldn’t think of a polite way to tell him that I wasn’t.
“I’m going to head to the bathroom,” I said, and slid off my stool, squeezing between his left leg and the back of Niamh’s chair.
Kace twisted his knees to the side and lightly touched the top of my hips to help guide me through.
“I’m good, thanks,” I murmured dismissively, stepping away from his touch.
I might not be great at subtlety, but I did know when someone’s interest was piqued. His touch, more intimate than helpful, confirmed what I’d already suspected. Crap. I wasn’t in the mood to gently rebuff someone. He might react badly, and then I’d feel threatened, and then magic would start flying around, and suddenly it would be a whole thing. What a mess.
Still mulling over how to get out of this situation—I had to do something, because I didn’t want to lead him on—I used the restroom and made my way back, feeling Austin nearby. His progress had stalled, though, indicating he was probably talking to someone outside.
Sir Stares-a-Lot still stood by the door, and I found myself veering that way. His presence actively squashed mirth, and his watchfulness had been overwhelmingly applied to me for the last couple of hours. I didn’t know why he was so bothered by me—I was clearly not a shifter. I should’ve escaped his notice altogether, unless he was that worried about naïve mages without much magical experience. Regardless, full of liquid courage and a black mood, I decided it was time to put this to bed.
“Hey,” I said, stopping beside him, leaning against the wall.
He didn’t respond.
“Why do you keep looking at me instead of spreading your attention around the bar?” I asked.
“I am learning this territory and the people in it.” He angled his body, his presence overbearing and his height topping mine by about half a foot. Although not as tall as Austin, he was just as broad and muscular. I felt his focus beating down on me, his dominance almost a palpable thing.
I just was not in the mood to pay attention.
“Rather than stare at me all creepy-like, why don’t you just ask questions?”
He was silent for a beat.
“What are you?” he finally asked.
“Amazing.” I spread my arms. “Also a female gargoyle.”
His face might’ve been painted on for all the emotion he showed. “I haven’t heard of a living female gargoyle.”
“It’s a new situation.”
For the first time, I saw a flicker of something on his face. Doubt and maybe annoyance. I narrowed my eyes, now watching for all I was worth.
“I am staring, ma’am,” he said, his voice rough, “because I monitor dangerous things. Within this bar, you are the most dangerous thing. You are wild and unpredictable, mouthy without worrying about the consequences, and too confident for your own good. I can’t sense much power in you. You’ll be killed if you keep this up.”
“I’m the most dangerous thing in the bar, but you’re worried I’ll be killed?”
“You are the most dangerous thing because you’ll incite violence. You’ll say the wrong thing and set someone off. If not for my control of the situation, you would’ve created a problem already. Tensions are high in this territory. There is a lot of power, strength, and aggression with a lack of proper higher structure to keep it contained.”
I lifted my eyebrows, thinking about defending myself. About telling him that he had it wrong, and even if he didn’t, I’d be just fine to defend myself, thank you very much. I’d lasted this long—I could keep going a while longer. But Austin was approaching the door now, and I figured he could weigh in.
I gave Sir Stares-a-Lot a thumbs-up and stepped away, looking out the door. Austin approached with a short, bull-faced woman who was nodding at whatever he was telling her. His bearing was stiff, and I saw the fatigue lining his eyes. Stress. He was under pressure.
Kicking myself for not having noticed that before, I pulled the mute off his link and trickled healing magic into him, taking the edge off. Soon he’d be right as rain, still stressed but less tired.