“How dense are you?” I snapped. “Figure it out.”
“This is no time to be after letting petty grudges fester,” Orin said with a huff. “Keira demanded honesty from us to her. I think she would like to see honesty between us too.”
“Yeah? You were honest enough about what you were after last night. Just shoved me away from Keira. You knew I was about to volunteer. You just butted in and took over, like I was your subordinate or something.”
“Oh, my. Who’s having the painters in now?”
“Keep in mind, I was the one who patched her up while you three are off on the far wack, taking your time to ‘secure the property.’“
“Brann needed to fix the wards, din’t he?” Orin snapped back. “It so happens I was checking for any clues of how they ever got through the old seal. And Keegan... Keegan couldn’t pass a chance to swing his big stick if needs be.”
“Fine, fair play to ya. But I don’t appreciate being swatted aside. I’m not about hoarding all Keira’s attention, but I’d prefer if you didn’t try to, either.”
“Fine. I agree. None of us should hoard her. Considering the circumstances, she’s on good terms with all four of us. So it’s only fair to share her attention.” I wanted him to just leave it at that. But Orin? He could not. “Unless she decides to stick to just one of us in the end.”
“And you think that ‘just one’ might be you?” I dropped my cigarette on the garage floor, grinding it into the concrete, just as I’d have liked to do with a certain face.
“I never said that.” Orin’s gaze wavered as he gave the idea precisely one second of thought before deciding he didn’t want to make things any heavier than they were. “I’m just saying, we all need some common sense here. Some respect. We’re all grown-ass men. We know how to act around people. Or at least you do. Let’s act like it.”
I chuckled at the concession. “Okay. I can accept those terms.” A pause hung in the air as we struggled to figure out what to say, until I broke the silence. “How is Keira, by the way? Did she sleep... undisturbed?”
“She’s doing fine,” Orin answered. “Your treatment helped, but she’s a strong girl on her own. All things considered, I think she’s getting her own understanding of things.”
“So, you got to know her pretty well, I take it?”
“I’m talking about her magic. Gutter-brain.”
“I think that’s more Brann’s domain than ours.”
“What I think?” Orin got a serious look on his mug now. “Won’t be long until she out-magicks all four of us put together.”
“Let’s hope,” I said. “So far, Keira seems to attract disaster wherever she goes.”
Knowing him so well, I sensed that little boyo’s delight welling up inside him. “Last night? Didja see the wee thing?” he snickered. “Jabbing away at that poxy bowler with that teeny little sword?”
I started to chuckle too, recalling. “She was after sticking her little knitting needle up his nasty cake hole, eh?” Then we both exploded, and laughter roared around the garage. The stupid grin on Orin’s puss took me back to when we were kids. How we’d laugh...
“Oh goddess,” I managed between giggles. “The ‘dirk’? She was all about it all night long.”
“I swear I thought she’d run a fifty p Johnny over the tip.” Another explosion of helpless laughter. Said good laugh got cut short by the jingling of a dog tag, heralding the appearance of Brann and Dante. “I’d say Keira delivered a first-class kick to Dub’s nuts and foiled whatever plan he intended last night,” Brann agreed. “But they’ll be back. And better prepared, now that they’ve seen what she can do.”
That stopped our laughter.
And reminded me of a thought I had earlier. “I was thinking about that. You ought to check Keira’s grimoire for anything useful, yeah?”
Orin nodded at this. “None of us got a good look at it, and you’re the one who’s most qualified to handle magical artifacts.”
Brann nodded. “I can do that. I’m in need of a shower first, though.” He gestured for Dante to stay, then looked to me again. “Would you mind watching Dante for a bit?”
“Sure, I’m working on me car. He can keep me company,” I tell him as Dante let out a deep bark.
Orin left with Brann, and I turned back to my ‘69 SS Camaro. A motherfucker in its better days. Long gone better days. The Super Sport’s body was a faded flat black with a couple peeling orange pin stripes, hood locks, and worn black leather bucket seats. It was a gift from Edna when I turned seventeen. A poor excuse for a car then, but I turned it into a beast. Dual exhaust, V8 engine, Hurst four-on-the-floor. Rebuilt everything with original parts. This was all about the drive, feel and speed, and when that 420 HP engine revved up with a deep, throaty growl? It was like a pure sex machine.
If only I could get the banjaxed motherfucker to start.
I racked my brain, trying to come up with what was wrong, but all I could think about was Keira. I could feel the tension knotting the muscles of my neck. It was just a few long days since Keira popped into our lives like the devil’s whirlwind. She reprogrammed my brain overnight, as if all my previous interests had been replaced with just this one thing: Keira. Of course I wanted her, but I felt an ever more powerful desire to protect her. I found myself daydreaming about her quirky mannerisms, wondering if she felt the spark of something between us? I felt it the moment I set eyes on her, and it never let up for a second. Every other thought was excluded from my mind.
As for excluded thoughts, there was that long list of female names in my phone. Dozens of unreviewed texts left on ‘read’ since Keira’s appearance.
