The flirty words, and accompanying wink, were enough to nudge a legitimate smile out of me. “I’m okay,” I promised. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Fat chance. I can’t help but worry about you. That’s who I am.” He leaned in and gave me another kiss, this one softer and more lingering. It was only broken when a screech sounded in the bathroom, which caused him to jerk his head in that direction and me to hunker down. “What was that?”
“That was Marissa realizing one of the Spriggans Scout set on fire burned off one of her eyebrows,” Bonnie replied smoothly, accepting the offered beer from Whistler and taking a big swig as the men gathered around the bar started chuckling. “I have a feeling Scout might not live long enough to hear whatever Drake has to say.”
On my right, Rooster’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “I thought she looked different when she came in, though I didn’t bother to look really closely. I thought the shirt was the worst of it.”
I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead. “This isn’t my fault. How was I supposed to know the stupid things are still aerodynamic when on fire?”
Gunner chuckled into my hair and pulled me close for another hug. “Have I mentioned how much more colorful our lives are now that you’re a part of them?”
I didn’t have a chance to answer because the sudden hint of light hitting the mirror behind Whistler told me the front door was opening, and when I twirled on the stool, I found Drake strolling through the door. He held the door open for someone to enter behind him, who remained a mystery, at least for the time being.
The rangy shifter took a moment to glance between faces, ultimately landing on me. My heart dropped.
“Hello, all.”
“How’s it going?” Gunner asked easily. He and Drake had a difficult relationship. They knew each other as kids, although not in an intimate sense, and when he returned to town with Gunner’s sworn enemy, it made for some tense interactions. Once Drake explained about his sister, things calmed down, if only marginally.
“Things are great.” Drake remained at the door, holding it open. “How are things with you guys?”
“Other than the fact that Marissa is going to kill Scout for burning off one of her eyebrows, we’re great,” Bonnie cracked, flashing a pretty smile for Drake’s benefit. She had a bubbly personality and she couldn’t help but flirt with everyone, whether male or female. “You look more rested than the last time we saw you.”
“It’s been a good few weeks.” His eyes moved back to me. “Thanks to you guys, my sister has been able to recover in peace.”
“How is she?” Rooster queried.
“She’s taking it slow.” Drake’s expression was rueful. “It’s not easy for her, not by a long shot. She still jumps at loud noises and she’s hyper-vigilant. I’m doing the best I can for her but it’s going to be a long process.”
“Have you considered getting someone for her to talk to?” Rooster’s expression was grave. “I think we might have a few people we know who will work. She needs to talk to someone who understands about the paranormal world. I can get her in to see someone, if that’s what you want.”
Drake hesitated and then nodded. “That might be good. I need to talk to her first. Right now, she’s only comfortable around me. I’m hoping that will change eventually but...” He sighed and shook his head, as if feeling genuine despair at the prospect.
“She’s going to need time,” Rooster said. “You can’t fix this for her. She needs to decide what she’s comfortable with and move on from there.”
“I understand that,” said Drake. “I really do. It’s just hard to watch her jump whenever a car door slams outside.”
Rooster nodded in understanding. “I get that.”
Even though it was a perfectly pleasant conversation, my agitation had ratcheted up to obscene levels and I couldn’t stop myself from asking the obvious questions. “Why are you holding the door open? Are you letting in ghosts to kill us or something?”
Drake’s eyebrows hiked but he remained calm. “Not last time I checked. I am waiting for a friend.”
I was understandably confused. “Is he invisible?”
Just as the last word escaped, another man slid in behind him. This individual was older — actually, much older —with hair that was once brown and had turned white. His eyebrows were mostly gray and his face was a mass of wrinkles that somehow made him look dignified. Even though he was older — if I had to guess, I would say mid-eighties — his eyes were keen as they moved across the room, ultimately landing on me.
“I wondered if I would ever see you again,” he said by way of greeting.
I frowned, casting a quick look at Gunner before licking my lips. “I don’t remember seeing you the first time,” I said. “You’ll have to refresh my memory.”
“Perhaps you should introduce your friend to us before we get started, Drake,” Rooster interjected, shooting me a reassuring look before continuing. “I think that’s probably best for all concerned.”
Drake let the door swing shut and followed the older man to the center of the bar. “This is Ezekiel Washington. I met him years ago, before my life became all about my sister, and he told me some interesting stories.” His eyes locked with mine. “He happens to know some Children of the Stars.”
My heart lodged in my throat and I had no idea how to respond.
“There’s no need to be so dramatic,” Ezekiel said, his eyes boring into me as he sat at the table directly behind my stool. He was so intense it was as if he was trying to peel my skin back a layer at a time and see what was underneath. “Drake is right. I’ve had occasion to meet some of your people,
