by John Conroe
“Okay, that’s kind of what we expected, right?” I replied.
“It’s a wee bit fast is all, don’t ye think?” my aunt asked.
“Not really. I don’t think he’s the kind of guy to procrastinate. And if it does have something to do with protecting his goddaughter, than he’s gonna put a rush on it,” I said.
“Interesting observation, Declan. I got a similar impression from his call. He’s anxious,” Levi said, tapping one finger against his chin.
“Listen, I saw how he was during and after the rescue. You’ve never seen anger like that, and some of it is directed at himself. He wants a spell or something to protect her better.”
“Well, he specifically asked that you and Caeco be on hand if at all possible. What do you think about that?” Levi asked.
“Well, if there is a spell or something to be done, he might want witches he knows to help do it. Toni said he doesn’t like witches much. Maybe he’s had a few bad run-ins or something. He also thinks he owes Caeco and me a debt for helping Toni,” I replied with a shrug, helping myself to a big piece of apple crisp from the pan between them.
“I gave him a verbal estimate for the cost, and he didn’t bat an eye. I even included a hazardous job fee of twenty-five percent, and he said fine,” Levi said.
“Vampires have tuns of bob, Levi. Compound interest and the like over time, don’t ye know” Aunt Ashling replied.
“He’s not a vampire,” I objected.
“I know, dear, but his girl is,” she replied. “And I’m of the opinion that she’s a tad bit high up the Coven ladder, ye see.”
“Well, the other ones all jumped when she was around,” I agreed. “The one in the cell said she was like a queen or something.”
“She’s a bit more than that,” Levi said. “I’ve been researching my potential clients, and they seem to be a big deal. When I asked some of my contacts about Tatiana Demidova, they got real quiet until I explained she might be employing me. Most don’t know a lot about her except that she’s ultra-important. The one vampire I know told me I should do whatever she wanted and do it fast, but that I would be in no danger from her or her people if I did an honest job. I asked what would happen if I didn’t do an honest job, and he implied that he would kill me himself.”
“Wow, nice friend!” I said.
“Actually, he kind of is. He was very matter-of-fact about it, but he was trying to tell me just how big a role she played.”
“What about Chris?” I asked.
“He is her Chosen mate, which is unusual in that vampires almost always Choose other vampires. My vamp contact got super-serious and told me I should leave him alone. When I explained that Chris was the one seeking my help, he said to give it. I got the impression that he was scared of Mr. Gordon.”
I snorted. Levi and my aunt both raised their eyebrows at me.
“Smart vampire. You’d have to see him in action to understand,” I said with a shrug, taking a big bite of apple crisp.
‘Don’t ruin yer dinner, boyo,” Aunt Ash said with a smile. It was kind of a joke because my after-school snack had never slowed down my dinner appetite.
“Oh, speaking of dinner, Rory’s dad won a gift certificate to Kate’s Pub in Burlington. He gave it to Rory to take some of us out to dinner tomorrow night. There’s going to be an Irish band playing. Alright if I go?” I asked.
“Who’s going?” Aunt Ash asked.
“Rory, Johah, and myself. Caeco and her mom are looking for a new house to rent, now that Dr. Jensen’s on retainer to Oracle. Candace has some big club meeting, so it’s just the boys.”
“I don’t see why not, but mind the college bucks! Keep yer head down,” she replied after a glance at Levi.
Chapter 48- Declan
School couldn’t get done fast enough. We piled into the Beast and headed straight from school to Burlington. It’s a busy little city almost all the time, but the weekends are even worse, so we wanted to get good parking. We ended up in a parking garage a block from Church Street. If you’ve never been there, Church Street is a pedestrian-only road in downtown, running perpendicular to Main Street. Three blocks long, it’s lined with shops and restaurants and always crowded with people, particularly college kids from the three local schools. Because most of the shops sell clothes or jewelry, it’s a popular hangout for girls in particular. It’s fun for us for several reasons. First, it’s not Castlebury! Second, no one know us, or I should say me, so they don’t treat us funny. And third, did I mention the pretty college girls? It’s not like we have a shot or anything, but it’s fun to girl watch. I mean, come on, we’re three dorky high school kids, but at least nobody runs away screaming.
Jonah wanted to shop for some clothes at Urban Outfitter, so we hit that first. My tallest friend really likes clothes and is usually pretty well-dressed. Like I may have mentioned, Jonah could fit in with a much more popular crowd than us, but he stuck with us for some reason.
Not finding what he was after, we headed into the mall entrance and let him work his way through American Eagle, Hollister, and Abercrombie & Fitch. Finally, at quarter of six, with a couple of bags clutched in his hand, he was ready to head to Katie’s Pub.
The band was supposed to start at seven, and we wanted a good table. I hadn’t told my aunt, but the band was Sisters Eire, an all-girl band of four actual sisters from Ireland who toured all across America playing festivals and pubs. The website photos looked attractive, and both Jonah and Rory were excited. Me, too, a bit, although I was mostly interested in the fact that they were Irish.
“Oh, that’s just because you’ve got a girlfriend now!” Rory said when I said as much.
“Hey, I never mind looking at pretty girls, but they’re all a lot older than us,” I said.
“Maybe the older ones, but the youngest is like eighteen or nineteen and she’s the best-looking one!” he replied.
“Doesn’t matter how old they are. None of them are immune to the Patel Charm,” Jonah added.
“The word you’re looking for is curse… the Patel Curse. Sends girls running!” Rory shot back, although truth be told, Jonah actually did do pretty well on the girlfriend scene.
“No guys, that’s me,” I said.
“Nah, not here. And not with Caeco,” Jonah said as we entered Katie’s.
The inside was all dark wood and Old World charm, with Celtic symbols and Gaelic phrases written on the walls up high near the ceiling. Katie was from Ireland and made it a habit to bring over a few young Irish bartenders and waitstaff to work the place, in addition to the local staff. It added to the charm to hear the accents, and I think she liked giving her countrymen a chance to visit the States.
Rory showed the attractive, college-age hostess his gift certificate and her eyes lit up.
“Oh, so you’re the winners?” she said, giving us a friendly smile and a quick once over. “Katie has a special table for you. Right this way.”
Rory puffed up at her words and gave us a superior look, which we immediately laughed at. The hostess led us deeper into the bar to a heavy wood table near the raised area I assumed would hold the band. She handed around menus before leaving.
Rory practically bounced in his seat. “This is going to be awesome! The band is practically in our faces!”
I had to agree. The table was set almost dead in front of the band area, giving us the best seats in the house.
A waiter appeared, wiping his hands on a towel. “I’m Sean, and I’ll be lookin’ after ye tonite. Now, what’ll you lads be drinking? Jamesons? Guiness all around?”
He was joking, in an easygoing way, but Rory didn’t catch it. “Oh, we’re not old enough to drink.”
Sean smiled and laughed. “I was only coddin’ ya.”
Both of my companions looked at me to translate.
“He was joking with you, Rory.”
Our waiter nodded and looked at me closer. “Ye’ve the look about ya. Where’re yur people from?”
“Tipperary,” I said.
He nodded again. “Good hurlers. You’re gonna like the band. Beoirs, every one! Now, what can I get ya?”
We all ordered sodas, then studied the menus.
“What’s that he called the band?” Jonah asked me.
“It’s a slang word for pretty girl,” I said.
“Perfect! I just hope they don’t faint from being so close to me,” he said with a smirk.
Rory leaned closed to him and sniffed. “Nah, you hardly smell bad at all.”
We were halfway through our dinners and Sean was just refilling our drinks when a blonde and a redhead carrying instrument cases walked straight to the band platform. The blonde was mid-twenties and wearing black jeans, a sleeveless vest, and a leather cap; the redhead, whose hair was too bright to be natural, was in skintight leather pants and a black t-shirt with some band name and tour dates written on it in white.
The redhead spotted Sean and turned to face him, her eyes flicking over us as she did. “Eh, Sean, you still arse-boxing around this place?” she asked with a grin.
“Hey, Gael,” he said, stopping to chat with the two as he took our empties to the kitchen.
“The redhead, Gael, is the fiddle player. The blonde is Aileen, the oldest, and she plays the keyboards,” Rory said. Jonah and I exchanged a glance, before turning back to him. “What? So I stalked them a bit,” he said, grabbing a French fry from his plate before looking back at the two band members.
“Rory, stop staring. You’re being creepy,” Jonah admonished him. I nodded and took a bit of my mashed potatoes.
Two more people walked past our table, and I glanced up. Damn!
The first girl was a pleasant-looking brunette in a puffy white shirt and regular blue jeans, but the one following her was traffic stopping. Black hair, brown leather jacket, and black shorts with knee-high boots, lugging a couple of instrument cases. She was laughing at something her sister had just said when she glanced our way and met my gaze with green eyes that sparkled with amusement. When she made it to her sisters, she plunked down her burdens. “I’m banjaxed!” she said in a loud, clear, lilting voice that was cute as hell.
“Who’s staring now, Mr. McCreepy?” Rory asked.
I jerked my gaze away from the quartet of women and felt my face flush.
“Damn!” Jonah said, still staring.
“Yeah!” I agreed, taking a drink of my soda.
“Kinda glad Caeco’s not with us. You’d probably get your arm broke for staring at her like that,” Rory teased.
“I’m not staring!” I protested, carefully not looking at the band.
Rory was grinning ear to ear. “That’s Ryanne… the youngest!” he said, leaning over to whisper. The four girls headed back out the side door they’d entered through, likely to get more of their gear.
I tried to ignore the impulse to look up when they came back through a second time, but finally caved in and risked a glimpse. Got busted instantly. Ryanne was facing our way and caught my eye. She flashed a brilliant smile, then brushed her straight hair behind one ear and went back to unpacking the drum set.
“Honestly Ry, do you have to keep adding to the damned thing?” a voice said from just behind me. I turned to see the redhead, Gael, lugging two more round cases. She, too, glanced at our table but instead of smiling, she spoke. “How about you and I switch, eh? I’ll just dig into that bangers and mash and you can lug these bleeding drums,” she said to me with a wink. Her accent was fantastic and she, too, had bright green eyes.
“Hey now, Gael, leave off flirting with the bobs and get me drums over here,” Ryanne said, smiling again. I looked behind us to see who the bobs were, but the next table over was a family of four.
“What’s a bob?” Jonah asked, quietly.
“A guy,” I answered. Actually, I thought it might be a good-looking guy, but my knowledge of slang was third-rate at best.
A middle-aged woman came over to the band and greeted them in a familiar manner. Probably the owner, Katie herself.
Then she approached us, a big smile of greeting on her face. “Welcome to me pub, lads. So you’re the big winners of our contest?”
“I am, ma’am. These guys are my guests,” Rory responded, puffing up like a blowfish.
“Oh, ye are, are ye? Watch this one, girls; he’s got the luck, he does!” she said to the band as she shook his hand.
“We thought they looked deadly,” Gael commented.
Rory looked at me, a quick question on his face.
“She means we looked very cool,” I said. “She’s just messing with us.”
“Oh, so this one has the luck of the Irish but you have the look of the Irish,” Katie stated.
“Yes, ma’am. My mom was from County Tipperary,” I said.
“Was?”
“She, ah, passed away some years ago,” I replied.
“Sorry to hear that…” she waited.
“Ah, Declan, ma’am. This is Rory, and that’s Jonah,” I said.
“Well, lads, settle in ‘cause you’re in for a helluva treat!” she said and gave the band a few more words before disappeared out front.
The keyboard was up, along with much of the sound equipment, and three of the sisters were unpacking their instruments while Ryanne continued to piece together the drum set.
The rest of the bar was filling up and when the family behind us left, a group of college-age guys moved to their table with pint glasses and pitchers of beer. They were laughing and goofing while they watched the band with interested eyes.
Her drums set up, Ryanne stood aside as her other sister, the one in the dress, brought in a microphone and stand and wove the wires through the few gaps left in the drum set. Taking advantage of the pause, Ryanne took off her leather jacket, revealing a sleeveless gray top that was more than a little clingy.
The boys at the table behind us hooted and whistled. Ryanne just laughed and waved a finger at them, grinning and flipping her hair back with a practiced flick. Gael spoke to her and she moved easily through the band gear to her sister’s side.
“Damn, she’s hot!” one of the guys behind me said. I glanced their way, annoyed, and spotted the speaker. He was a decent-sized guy, maybe a few inches shorter than my six-two, but built broader and thicker. Black hair, beard, and dark eyes. His companions were all athletic looking, maybe all part of the same sports team or something.
I honestly don’t know why I was so annoyed. I didn’t know the band, the kid was right—she was certainly hot—and more importantly, she was obviously comfortable on a stage in front of admiring guys. Plus I had my own girlfriend, so why was I bothered?
Not able to figure it out, I tried to let it go and talk with the guys.
“It’s like thirty degrees outside,” Jonah commented. “Why would she dress like that? Wouldn’t she be cold?”
I analyzed his comments while studying the black-haired girl. She was maybe five-eight, thin, but with nice curves. Her skin was very pale and she had a few freckles across her high cheekbones.
“I’m going to go out on a limb here, but I think the answer to your question will be obvious when they start to play,” I said.
Which they did ten minutes later, and I was right. Ryanne was their lead singer and drummer, yet she was never still, bouncing, nodding, and dancing along to everything they played.
“Hello Burlington!” she greeted the crowd, which was now quite large and evenly mixed between young and middle-aged. The bar greeted her loudly, causing her to laugh and flip her hair. Her sisters were still finishing their last few adjustments and by their relaxed manner must have been comfortable leaving the opening comments to their younger sister.
“We’re Sisters Eire, and we want to thank you all fer coming out on a culd October night! This is likely our last performance here in the States, as it jost gets too damned culd here. Honestly, how do you stand it?” she said with a smile and a mock shiver. “Now, ye dinna come out to listen to me chatter on, now did ye? So let’s kick it off,” she said
with a laugh. Her foot started a beat with her foot pedal. “This first song is about a strong woman, an Irish lass, fighting an arranged marriage such as used to be the thing in Ireland. It’s a fun song, if a wee bit dark at the end. It’s called ‘Step it Out Mary!’”
Her sisters had moved up and immediately kicked off a fast-paced song that had the whole bar bouncing along to the beat. Ryanne sang in a clean, clear voice with her accent flowing through the words, dancing and bouncing to the beat. She easily managed to captivate virtually everyone in the pub.
She sat at her drums for the next song. “We’ve borrowed this song from our friends, Gaelic Storm,” she said, then started a song called “Green eyes, Red hair,” and her green-eyed, red-haired sister took front and center, fiddling and dancing while making eye contact with almost every guy in the room. The guys behind me were pounding the floor with their feet, totally enthralled by her swiveling hips and legs, which, to be fair, were pretty mesmerizing.
