guys? That I could do in my sleep. “Listen. Normally I’d find being called an eejit such a turn-on. But I’ve recently been quite thoroughly bitch-slapped by life, and I’m really not looking to date.” And I don’t do leprechauns .
“No leprechauns? Ya sure ’bout that?” His smile turned lecherous. “Not even if I promise to show you me pot of gold after ya stroke me rainbow?”
Um…ew. It took me a moment to overcome the gross-out and realize he’d said “leprechaun” when I’d only thought it. “Hey. You’re not allowed to do that.”
“Do what? Read your thoughts?” He snorted. “Who told you that rot? Your magister?”
“As a matter of fact.” Technically, he’d said only a person’s deeper thoughts were verboten, but I didn’t want this guy anywhere inside my head.
“Figures.” He leaned a shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms and ankle again. “They don’t want us to realize our full potential. To know we’re the best of both worlds. Jealous bastards. They’ll get us all snuffed.”
“Who, the angels? You think angels are jealous of us?”
“That’s right. Don’t you know what you can do?” He shook his head. “The prick didn’t show you bollocks, did he? ’Course not.”
“Who are you?”
He straightened, held up a finger telling me to wait, and then vanished. A gust of wind tousled my hair, and a blur of movement too fast for my eyes to track rushed by me. A second later, the same rush of movement blew past in reverse, and the leprechaun dude was standing by the ladies’ room again. Only now, he was holding a Styrofoam cup.
“The name’s Liam McGregor, and I’ve been an illorum for thirty-one years. This be yours.” He handed me my soda. “Now, I’ve gotten the fiend’s attention. Where’s your sword?”
“In my Jeep,” I said. “Around the corner.”
“Perfect. I’ll meet you there,” he said. “If we both go, he’ll follow, and we can send him off to Hell without worry for the mortals.”
“Wait.” I glanced at my cup. “What’d you just do?”
“What I did, lassie, is the very least of our hidden talents,” he said. “You’ve got gobs to learn and no time a’tall to do it. Now get moving.”
He walked away at human speed and I watched him zigzag through the tables to the front door. It took a second to snap out of my stupor, but a strong whiff of sulfur pushed me into action. Whatever the crazy leprechaun was, he was right about the demon nearby. I practically choked on the stench.
The lull between lunch and dinner kept the place from being so packed it’d be standing room only, but there were still too many people to single out which one stunk like three-week-old eggs. I made my way to my table and realized halfway there I’d already lost it to another customer. So I sat my half-empty cup on the counter, taking the opportunity to scan faces all around me. I was looking for that special kind of eye contact that wasn’t an accidental glance but an intentional stare. No one stood out.
I caught the attention of one of the guys behind the counter and mouthed, “I’ll be right back,” while pointing in the direction of my car. He nodded, then shrugged and turned away. I had a feeling I wouldn’t find my cup when I came back. Crap . I slung my purse over one shoulder and headed out.
The second I pushed through the door, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, skin tingling. I went left toward Smallman Street, where I’d parked.
The sun was low in the sky, but nightfall was still hours off. I glanced in Primanti’s wall of windows as I passed, trying to see if that pressing sensation creeping up my back was real or my imagination. I couldn’t see if anyone was following and I didn’t want to tip my hand by actually turning around. Besides, if I moved now, I might spook the demon off before Liam could jump him.
So I strolled along like good little demon bait and turned the corner from Eighteenth Street to
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