The lanterns here hadn’t been lit yet, and the shadows had gathered in wide swaths, giving us enough darkness to disappear. Suddenly I was eight years old again, and listening in on our parents as they drank and practiced and talked about the old days.
Adult conversations had always been their own kind of magic, and although Crowe wasn’t much older than we were, club business—business we weren’t technically privy to—was just as exciting to listen in on. Plus, the fog of magic was a little lighter here with fewer kindled and cuts around, so I could breathe and see a little easier.
We crept around to the back of the tent and got as close to the canvas as we dared.
I could hear the shuffle of boots over dry grass as someone circled the inside of the tent.
“Jane warned me something might go down tonight,” Crowe was saying. “You all know we’ve made a lot of enemies. The Deathstalkers are here and shouldn’t be underestimated, even if their numbers are small. And I’ll be honest—I’m not sure if the Sixes and the Kings consider our beef settled from earlier this year—”
“I’m thinking you served that beef to them pretty well-done, Crowe,” Boone said. A ripple of laughter went through the tent.
“I did what I had to do to discourage further patch-over attempts. Now, I know this is supposed to be a celebration, but it’s also an opportunity for someone to make a move. We’re all here in one place and half of us will be drunk by midnight.”
A few of them whistled and clapped.
“I want our people safe,” Crowe continued, and the tent fell silent again. “And we need to protect those who can’t protect themselves for whatever reason. Brooke, keep an eye on Old Lady Jane. She might not be a Devil, but she’s important and valuable.”
“And old,” said Brooke, laughter in her voice. “And weird as shit.”
“Be careful about saying any of that to her face,” said Crowe. “Unless you want her to tell you when you’re going to die.”
“She wouldn’t!”
“She would,” said Crowe. “She’s done it before, and she’s never been wrong.” He sounded solemn now. And miserable.
Next to me, Alex’s eyebrows rose in question.
“Boone,” Crowe went on, “I want you on Alex. She’s bound and powerless for the time being. Kent, keep an eye on my mother. She can hold her own, but you can’t be too careful. Hardy, I want you on Jemmie.”
I let out a surprised gasp. He was willing to waste one of his best men on shadowing me?
Alex scowled at me and I clamped my mouth shut.
From the crunch of his footsteps in the dried grass, I could tell Crowe was moving through the gang as he gave each of them their assignments. The light inside threw his shadow against the canvas as he approached, and he was now just feet away, a thin flap of fabric the only thing between us. I held my breath, hoping he hadn’t heard me. I wasn’t sure what he’d do if he caught us listening in on a conversation we definitely should not be listening in on.
“Flynn, keep an eye on the Stalkers,” he went on. “They have eight full-patch members here who you all know, plus a prospect. Darwin or Derwood or something.”
Alex stifled a snort.
“I think his name is Drake,” offered Hardy.
“Nah, it’s Drew,” said Flynn. “I ran into him near the outhouses earlier. He definitely looked like he was about to shit his pants.” He had altered his voice with his inlusio magic, deepening it so that it echoed inside the flimsy tent. Puffs of his power wafted from within, and I inhaled the cigar scent of it.
Crowe chuckled. “Well, I’m guessing if none of us have heard of him and he hasn’t drawn enough attention for us to even remember his name, he’s not a major threat. I’d know if he had a rep.”
I let out a breath of relief—Darek would have been stung to hear the Devils dismiss him like that, I was sure, but it was the safest thing.
Alex arched an eyebrow at me. I tried really hard to keep my face blank, but it felt like I was biting back a smile.
Crowe doled out a few more orders before dismissing everyone. When the tent was empty save for him and Hardy, Hardy said, “You really think they’ll make a move tonight?”
“I don’t know.” A chair groaned as one of them sat down. There was silence for a minute. I couldn’t see him, but I could picture Crowe scrubbing at his face, revealing just a sliver of his worry to the one person he was okay showing it to. Hardy was his best friend, his brother in all things but blood. “Jane doesn’t have anything concrete. She hasn’t had anything concrete in the year or so she’s been advising me. Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be vigilant. She’s seemed more on edge lately.”
“You think she’s holding back?”
“Don’t know why she would. She might be a little strange, but she doesn’t want anyone to get hurt. She’s the one who came to me when she got a sense something would happen at the festival.”
“Doesn’t she know exactly what’s going down?”
“She said it’s too big to wrap her head around. It involves too many people at once, too many loose threads as she calls them. And… I think she worries that her predictions might actually shape the future in a bad way.” He muttered something else I couldn’t make out.
“People with omnias magic usually need to be touching someone to see their specific individual future anyway, right?” Hardy grunted. “Would you let her touch you, even if that meant she’d know when you’re going to die?”
Even through the canvas, I could feel the weight of Crowe’s sigh. “She already told me she wouldn’t touch me—said she doesn’t want to know. Honestly, I don’t want to know, either. I have to be able to do whatever’s necessary to keep everyone safe, and if I hesitate or hold back, I won’t be effective.”
“Yeah, brother. I know. We’re all grateful you stepped up after we lost Michael.”
“I can’t let anything distract me from this or slow me down,” said Crowe, his voice steely. “Speaking of—go find Jemmie and keep her out of trouble, will you?”
My eyes were probably the size of dinner plates. What the heck did that mean?
Hardy’s voice was full of laughter as he asked, “Well, is she here yet? You seen her tonight?”
Crowe snorted. “She’s here, all right. Check the beer tent first.”
My face went from cool to blazing in the space of a second.
Crowe’s phone went off. “I gotta take this. I’ll catch up to you later.” He answered the call as he left the tent, headed in the opposite direction of our hiding spot.
We waited a beat for Hardy to clear out, too, before creeping around the tent perimeter and back to the path that would lead to the bonfire. “What a jerk,” I muttered.
“Well, you were headed in there when I found you,” Alex reminded me.
“Screw you. We were going to party, weren’t we? Should we do that in the kiddie tent?” Lori had actually set one up. It was flying a flag with a pink unicorn on it.
“Actually, I am in the mood for some face painting,” she said with a wink.
“Where do you think you two are going?” Hardy said, and Alex and I both shrieked.
“Hardy!” Alex whacked him on the arm. “You scared the shit out of us.”
“How long were you there?” he asked.
I tried acting innocent. “How long were we where?”
“Don’t play me for a fool. I’m a Warwick, remember? Spidey-sense upgrade. I already know how long you were there. I could hear you two mouth breathers for miles. You’re lucky I didn’t tell Crowe.”
Alex and I both cringed. “Then why did you ask?” I said.
“So I could catch you in a lie.” Hardy pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket, selected a number, and hit the Call button. “Hey,” he said when someone picked up on the other end. “If you’re looking for Alex I’m staring at her right now.”
Alex groaned.
“Over by the meeting tent,” Hardy said.