“And it’s always guys?” Ulric asked. “Do they hit on anyone?”
“Yes, always three,” Tim-tam or whatever her name was said. “Always guys. Rarely talk to anyone. If a drunk shifter tries to engage in conversation, they don’t say much but don’t shrug off the conversation, either.”
Plying for information without asking for it. It made people trust you more, and drunk people just kept talking and talking, their filter entirely gone.
Still, Tim-tam obviously didn’t know what was going on with the pack, so the shifters mustn’t have given away too much in her presence. Then again, the mages could have used a privacy spell of some sort, keeping others from shushing the drunk guy into silence.
“Do ye ever see them again?” Niamh asked. “Once they switch out for the week or what have ye, do they ever come back?”
Tim-tam pointed animatedly at Niamh. “Yes! One of the groups I have seen three times! The whole group, back from the abyss.”
“And the same groups are always together?” Niamh asked. “They don’t choose a new friend from their commune to go with them to the bar and make everyone uncomfortable?”
“Same groups, cycling through.” Tim-tam flared her hands in an incredulous sort of way. “It’s weird, right? I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve bartended in a few different places.”
“You need to stop with all those conspiracy theories,” one of the Dicks said from down the way.
“It’s a fun hobby, but when it starts to grab hold, it’s best to walk away.”
Tim-tam rolled her eyes. “See?” she murmured to Ulric and Jasper. “What did I tell you? The shifters have the same attitude, mostly. They don’t notice anything strange, but I don’t think any of them care enough to listen, you know? Too busy wanting to talk about themselves.” She quirked an eyebrow at Jasper.
He pressed a palm to his chest. “I will be glad to listen. My mouth will be too busy for me to speak.”
“Oh my God.” She laughed, but the flush was creeping back, probably because it was obvious he was entirely genuine. This was why he didn’t have to dress up or even shower to get the ladies. Once they got a good ride, they didn’t care about the trivial things, like matching socks.
Tim-tam shook her head and wandered down to the guys at the other end of the bar. “They think it’s weird,” she told the Dick who’d spoken up, the one with nothing else to do but make the bar his business.
“They’re just humoring you,” the Dick said. “They wear capes, for Christ’s sake. They’ll humor any pretty girl who speaks to them.”
“Not everyone can be Superman,” Ulric called down. “But some of us can try!”
“So…that’s interesting information,” Jasper said under Ulric’s shouting, his gaze zeroed in on Niamh. “Kingsley shouldn’t let his people come here to get drunk. Who knows the sorts of things they’ve been saying?”
“Agreed,” Niamh replied.
“Real quick,” Ulric whispered as Tim-tam headed around to Tristan and Sebastian, sitting as quiet as ye please. “The strongest shifters back at the hotel thought they sensed a magical presence, but it was too far away for them to draw any more information. They checked out the area, but I guess whoever it was got away very quickly.”
“Someone is checking things out but keeping their distance,” Niamh murmured, switching her empty glass for Edgar’s full one. She ignored Edgar’s “Yum.”
“That’s what they figured,” Jasper said. “They went to interrupt the alphas to let them know, and we came down here to tell you guys and see if you noticed anything.”
“Don’t think so.” Niamh looked around Ulric to the two guys, Tristan staring out the door and Sebastian messing with his phone. “Tristan would’ve done something.”
“Yeah, most likely,” Jasper said as Ulric bent toward them to join the hushed conversation.
“Maybe it was one of the mages who hangs out in here,” Ulric said. “Doesn’t sound like they come in until it gets busy. If one of them shows up, Tristan can grab him and Sebastian can magically subdue him.”
“Why is it all guys, like?” Niamh wondered idly. “As I’m getting up to speed with mage politics, I see that there are just as many female mages as male. Why is Momar using only male mages out here?”
“They’re expendable?” Ulric asked.
“Sexist bastard?” Jasper suggested.
Ulric frowned at him. “I was talking about the guys being expendable.”
“Whoa, bud”—Jasper put out his hand—“cool your tits. I was talking about the mage organization.”
Now Niamh wanted to push those two off their stools. She blew out a breath, turning around to check the light. “Austin won’t put off going to his brother’s today. As soon as the basajaunak get here, he’ll be rarin’ to go.”
“We still have some time,” Ulric said. “I’m guessing the presence, we’ll call it, will come down here eventually.”
“Yes, but as she just said”—Jasper pointed at Niamh—“we might not have the time. It’s getting late, and the alphas want the whole pack showing up to Kingsley’s as a unit.”
Tim-tam had stopped to talk to the guy at the very end of the bar but was now coming back in their direction with the empty glasses from Tristan and Sebastian.
“We have until the basajaunak arrive until—”
Ulric cut himself off as glasses shattered, Tim-tam having dropped what was in her hands. She started screaming, joined by both Dick patrons, who scraped back on their bar stools. Ulric, Jasper, and Niamh all looked around in confusion.
“That is no way to greet a paying customer,” a deep voice said by the door.
The basajaun secretly called Phil stood in the doorway in his kilt, hard hat, and reflector construction vest.
“It’s okay, folks.” Ulric stood and raised his hands. “It’s fine. He’s with us. A real nice guy once you get to know him.”
“Is that a Bigfoot?” asked someone down the bar.
“I find that offensive,” Phil said, making his way into the bar to stand behind Edgar. “But I will happily forgive you if someone pours me a drink. I’m parched.”
“Thank you for coming,” Edgar told Phil, standing. “Here, have my stool. I will now happily stand just behind you in the corner. That would suit us both well.”
“See?” Jasper said. “We’re out of time.”
“The shifters in charge said we all need to head back,” Phil said. “I’ll just have a really quick one while they get organized to leave. Oh, and there seemed to be some sort of presence at the motel. Her felt it the best, and so she chased after it, but she forgot to look both ways. We keep trying to tell her, but she never listens. Don’t worry, she’s fine, but someone will need to work out insurance for the dent and cracked windshield. Needless to say, by the time she started running after the scent, it had gone. Smelled magical, she said. Probably a mage that tucked into a car and away they went.”