“I thought this was a really successful warlock. He can’t be that successful if this is where he hangs out.”
“Appearances can be deceiving, which is something you need to remember when dealing with warlocks,” Christian said. “Most warlocks and witches aren’t attracted by money, but by power. Jonas Callaghan has owned this place for years. It’s known as a safe house, neutral ground, and it’s a well-known hangout for all sorts of things. It can be an interesting place on a Saturday night.”
A surge of hatred washed through her. “Demons?”
He nodded. “Sometimes. Though Callaghan won’t serve them alcohol. Try and stay close and don’t accept any drinks.”
She followed him into the bar. The inside didn’t look any smarter than the outside. The lighting was dim, the walls dark, and a pall of smoke hung in the air. Silence descended on the room as they entered, and all faces turned to them as they stood just inside the door. After a minute, everyone looked away, and the low hum of conversation filled the room.
Christian led her through the tables, and she heard his name whispered as they passed—Christian Roth. He stopped in front of the wooden bar that ran the length of the room. Tara studied the man behind it, but he appeared quite normal. The other patrons appeared human to her as well, but if they knew Christian, they must have contact with the supernatural world. Were any of them demons?
“We’re here to see Jonas,” Christian said to the bartender.
“Jonas isn’t here. Now, what can I get you to drink?”
“Nothing. Tell him Christian Roth is here.”
“I know who you are, and I told you, he’s not here.”
Christian moved faster than she could see. His hand gripped the man’s throat, pulled him halfway across the bar, and the room went quiet behind them. Christian snarled, the tip of one white fang clearly visible. “Tell him I’m here.”
“There’s no need for that,” a voice said behind them. Tara swung round. An old man stood there, slightly stooped, with short gray hair. “Let him go, Christian, he was only trying to protect his old father.”
Christian released his hold on the other man. “As if you needed protection.”
The old man raised an eyebrow. “If the Order is hunting you then everyone needs protection.” He glanced toward the door. “I noticed your men outside.”
“I no longer belong to the Order.”
“Don’t be na?ve, Christian, it doesn’t suit you. Once in the Order, you can never leave. I take it you’re not here to offer me a job then. I hear there’s a vacancy for one of my profession.”
“News travels fast. You don’t sound particularly bothered.”
He shrugged. “Ella was an old student of mine. She was always a treacherous bitch. I’m surprised she lasted as long as she did. So if it’s not to offer me a job, why are you here?”
“Can we talk in private?”
“We?” The old man glanced from Christian to Tara. “Are you going to introduce me?”
“This is Tara Collins. I believe you knew her mother.”
“I did?” He studied Tara closely. After a minute, his eyes widened. “Well,” he said, “I believe I did. Would the two of you like to follow me?”
He led them through a door in the back and into a small sitting room. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the locket Tara wore round her neck.
She nodded. Jonas picked it up and turned it in his gnarled fingers. “You know,” he said to Christian, “I don’t like to boast, but this is good work. Out there in the bar, I would have sworn your little friend was human.”
“Isn’t she?”
Jonas raised an eyebrow. “Well I’m guessing not, at least if she was the one intended for the spell.” He dropped the locket. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what you want. I presume this isn’t a social call.”
He crossed the room to a small table, picked up a decanter. “A drink?” He glanced at Tara and smiled. “Not perhaps for you, that wouldn’t be a good idea, but Christian?”
Christian nodded. Jonas poured them both a glass and took a seat opposite. Tara was almost bursting with questions, but Christian sent her a warning look, and she held tight.
“So you admit that you made the spell Tara is wearing?” Christian said.
“I take it there’s not a lot of point denying it. Did Ella give you my name? As I said, she always was a treacherous bitch.”
“Can you tell us who you made the spell for?”
“You know I can’t divulge details about my clients. I’d soon get no business at all if it got out I talked to the Order.”
Christian took a sip of his drink. “Perhaps I made a mistake in framing it as a question.”
They stared at each other for long minutes. In the end, Tara couldn’t take it anymore. She jumped to her feet.
“Please Mr. Callaghan. I want to know about my mother.”