“Gladly! Nina, let’s go.”
“Where are you going?” Rhys demands.
“Why don’t you research to find out?”
I follow Cillian. I have to figure out where Leo is on my own, and I’m so mad at everyone in this garbage castle for thinking they know what I need more than I do. We nearly run into Jade. One look at her face shows she’s in as bad a way as we are, at least emotionally.
“Misery, meet company. Come on,” Cillian says, gesturing to the massive front door. “We’re going out.”
Jade never gives up a chance to sleep. She spends most afternoons napping. So I’m surprised when she twitches and then nods. “Yeah. I wanna come.”
Jessi peers out the door to the gym. “Where are you all going?”
“Out. Wanna come?”
“Yes, I’d be happy to leave three innocent children alone so they can get themselves fed dinner and bathed and tucked into bed with a story and a kiss. Honestly. If I had any powers left, you’d—” She slams the door.
“I’m not really sorry she passed,” Cillian says.
“Yeah, me neither.” I link my arm through his and we walk straight out of the castle. A figure is lurking right outside the door, and I have a stake in hand immediately.
“There’s gonna be a lot of blood to clean up if you stake me.” Maricruz peels herself free from the shadowy alcove of the castle steps. “Needed some air. I’m assuming that’s okay?”
Taylor, her blond shadow, is nowhere to be seen. “Come with us,” Jade said.
“Am I in trouble?”
Cillian looks determined. “Not yet, but the afternoon is young.”
The car is where we parked it outside the garage. I have the phone with me, and I’m powerless until Artemis calls back. Might as well kill some time. I toss the keys to Cillian. He starts the car and we peel out. He does a terrible job street parking on the cobblestones in front of his shop, but it’s Shancoom. Traffic is like something out of a fairy tale here. Far away and make-believe.
He unlocks the shop and we tumble in. I love it in here. It used to be a magic supply shop, but when magic died and Cillian’s mother took off, Cillian needed a way for it to make money. He converted it to a soda and sweets shop. Shancoom gets a mild number of tourists, which means he sells just enough to keep the lights on at his house.
“Oh! I have fifty thousand pounds!” The fact that I almost forgot is a testament to how much else has been going on the last few days. Oz brought the bag in before he left, and I tucked it away in the gym. Without telling my mother, maybe a little because I felt like the fact that I had a freshly murdered man’s money might not reflect very well on my innocence.
“Then why the hell are we at Cillian’s soda shop and not on a tropical island?” Jade gestures at her heavily coated self. “I look really good in a bikini! I think. I’ve never actually owned one.”
“Bikinis not standard Watcher-issued clothing?” Cillian asks, pulling out several glass bottles of Coke from his fridge and popping the lids off. He also grabs a root beer, which he keeps on hand only for me because no one in this country appreciates the delicious American taste.
“They don’t come in tweed,” I snort, imagining Rhys in tweed board shorts. Cillian must be doing the same, because he collapses with giggles.
“Instead of a three-piece suit, he’d wear a three-piece swimsuit.” Cillian gasps for air, and I lean over the counter, holding my stomach.
“You two are ridiculous.” Jade takes a long swig of her Coke. Her eyes are heavily lined with turquoise, maybe to distract from the bags under them. She looks rough. “Seriously, though, where did you get fifty thousand pounds and what are you going to do with it?”
“I share this question.” Maricruz sits at the counter and looks around the room.
“Got it from the rich dead guy because I won his hunt. And I’m going to use it to fund Sanctuary for the next few months until we figure out ways to generate more income.”
“Well, that’s … responsible, I guess.” Maricruz taps her black fingernails against the side of her Coke bottle. Then her face lights up and she raises one eyebrow. “Too responsible. I’ll be back.” She slips out the door. Cillian, Jade, and I shrug at one another, then proceed to design Rhys’s ideal bathing suit. I check my phone obsessively, but it remains stubbornly blank.
Maricruz reappears with a bag. It clinks ominously. “Guess who remembered the legal drinking age in this country is lower?” She pulls out a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of absinthe.
“Absinthe?” I ask.
“No way!” Jade takes the bottle and holds it out, gazing at it. “It was my coven’s favorite.” She spent several months undercover in a coven that subcontracted for Buffy back when Buffy was leading an army of Slayers all across the globe. It disbanded when magic died. “Absinthe is awful, but I kind of miss it. And them. It was nice, you know? Having a purpose.”
“Spying on Buffy?” I ask.