The Enchanter Heir

Emma blinked at them. “What’d you call me?”

“Labrat,” a preppy-looking boy said, breathing beer into her face. “Or would you prefer mutant?” He had the pudgy kind of baby face that turns into jowls later on.

Emma knew better than to mix it up with a drunk. “I don’t want trouble,” she said. “Came to hear the band. Just move on, now.” She pulled out her phone, looking for nonexistent messages. Wondering what people had used for cover before cell phones.

“Time to move on,” the boy persisted, thunking his beer down. “You’ve been squatting there all night.”

“Come on, Graham,” another boy said, leering at Emma. “Let her stay. Get a few drinks into her and maybe she’ll show us her scaly tail.”

“Eww,” a tall blond girl said. “Shut up, Cam. That’s disgusting.”

“Sometimes you wanna walk on the wild side, know what I mean?” Cam elbowed the girl. “Hey, Brooke! How about a threesome?”

Brooke pretend-slapped him.

A girl with long, sun-tipped brown hair had hung back by the pool table. Now she joined the group surrounding Emma. “Quit being jerks. If there’s no place to sit, pay the tab and we’ll go down the street.”

“We’re off the clock,” Graham said. “I wanna play some more pool. Anyway, the labrat was just leaving.”

“You’re drunk, and you’re drawing attention to yourselves, which is exactly what Rowan told us not to do,” the girl said. “And we are never—ever—off the clock.”

“We won’t hurt her feelings, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Cam said, nodding toward Emma. “I don’t think she understands what we’re saying, anyway.”

“Come on, Rachel,” Graham said, a note of entreaty in his voice. “Loosen up a little. Your big brother isn’t here. Uh . . . you’re not going to tell on us, are you?” He put his hand on her shoulder, brow furrowed, looking a little panicked now.

“Not as long as you do what I say,” Rachel retorted. Just then, her phone buzzed. “I’m going to take this call. Meantime, take care of the tab and we’ll go.”

The wizards watched Rachel walk away, then turned on Emma.

“See that?” Cam said. “You got us in trouble.”

“Don’t worry,” Brooke said, sweeping back her mane of hair. “If Rowan gives us trouble, he’ll have my mother to deal with.”

Graham waved his cue under Emma’s nose. “Come on, labrat. Fair’s fair. You shouldn’t sit over here if you’re not playing pool.” He brightened. “I know! Let’s play for the tab.”

The rest of them snorted with laughter.

“Do you know what that means?” Graham leaned down, hands on his knees, so he was eye level with Emma, speaking slowly. “If I win, you pay for our drinks, and give up your table. That’s fair.” When Emma said nothing, he added, “How about it, labrat?”

A new voice intruded into the conversation. “How about you leave her alone?”

It was Boy Blue. He stood next to Emma, so close she could breathe in the scent of leather. So close she could have reached out and touched the rivets on his jeans. She resisted the temptation to do just that.

The wizards stared at him, at first too hazy with drink to conjure a response.

“Who’re you?” Graham said finally. “Her labrat boyfriend?”

“You think he’s a labrat?” Brooke said, wrinkling her forehead in confusion. “But he’s really hot.”

“Eww,” Graham said. “Now you’re being disgusting.” They all laughed, but some of the confidence had leaked out of them. They resembled a herd of sheep with a wolf in their midst.

“I can take care of myself,” Emma said to Boy Blue. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried about you,” Boy Blue said. “I’m worried about them.”

Graham cleared his throat. “We’re not talking to you,” he said. “We’re talking to her.” He jabbed Emma with his pool cue.

Boy Blue struck like a snake, faster than Emma’s eye could follow. He ripped Graham’s weapon away from him, broke it like a matchstick, and dropped the pieces onto the floor.

Graham stared at him, openmouthed. “What the—that cue cost five hundred dollars!” he shouted.

“Really?” Boy Blue said. “Then you ought to be more careful about where you stick it.”

Emma was thinking, Five hundred dollars? For a pool cue? That can’t be right.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” Graham snarled. His friends muttered agreement. A crowd was gathering, spoiling for a fight. And Boy Blue seemed more than willing to give them one.

Emma didn’t mean to let that happen. Not on her account. She shoved back her chair and stood, facing Graham, hands on hips. “You want to play pool?” she said. “You’re on.”

Chapter Twelve

Sharks

Everyone turned and stared at her. The band played on, the bass thudding through the floorboards like a pulse.

Graham looked from Boy Blue to Emma. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he said, smirking. “All right, let’s do it.”

Boy Blue put his gloved hand on Emma’s shoulder, sending a thrill of electricity through her. “You don’t have to do this. I picked this fight. Let me finish it.”

Emma glared up at him. “What—you can pick a fight, but I can’t?”

For a moment, he was at a loss for words. “Well, yeah,” he said. “Pretty much.”

Emma turned back toward Graham. “What’s the action?” she said, rubbing her fingers together. “You really want to play for the tab?”

“’Xactly,” Graham said, taking in his mainliner posse with a sweep of his arm. “The tab. For all of us.” His eyes flicked to Boy Blue, then back to her. “And the cost of the cue.” Emma frowned, pretending to think it over. Which she really should have been doing, considering she had $15.97 in her pocket.

Boy Blue leaned in toward her, his warm breath stirring her hair, raising gooseflesh on her neck. “Listen,” he said. “Their tab’ll run into big money. They’ve been drinking all night. And we’re not paying for the cue.”

We? Emma thought.

“What’s the matter?” Graham said. “No confidence in your girlfriend here?”

Someone began a soft chant. “Tails and SCALES! Tails and SCALES!”

Emma frowned. “You know what? He’s right. That doesn’t seem fair. I don’t really have a tab.” She thought a moment. “How about this? If I win, you forget about the cue and buy a round for the room.”

“A round for the room?” Graham scanned the crowd, as if taking a count. “I don’t know. I mean, now I’ll be playing with an unfamiliar cue.” He pretended reluctance when she could tell he was hot for the match.

“What’s the matter?” she said, shoving her hands into her back pockets, looking up at the ceiling. “You scared?”

Graham stiffened and looked back at Emma, appraising her. He must not have been impressed with what he saw, because a cocky smile broke across his face. “You’re on, labrat.”

“Did you all hear that?” Emma said in a carrying voice. “If I win, this fine young man buys a round for the room. If you want to lay any side bets, do it now.”

All of a sudden everyone in the room was interested in the play, though nobody seemed eager to bet on Emma.

While money changed hands Emma strode to the cue rack and looked over the selection. Mostly Sterlings, handful of Furys. Pulling one down, she sighted along the length and swore under her breath. Warped. As were