Authors: Unknown
the difference.”
“You want to run,” Zane repeated.
“Yes,” Ty said. “We’re not equipped to handle this here.”
“We’ll never have a better chance against them. There are
seven of us.”
“Six,” Ty corrected.
Liam counted the men around the table. When he got to
seven, he pointed to himself and shook his head. “This is not
my fight,” he said. “I don’t plan on dying for any of you.”
Ty and Zane locked eyes again. Nick sort of wanted to
lean away from the line of fire.
“You know damn well we will never have another
opportunity like this one,” Zane said through gritted teeth.
“We know they’re coming. Even if this isn’t their fight, it’s
yours and mine.”
“Garrett, we are outgunned,” Ty said, his voice getting
louder. He pressed a finger against the table. “We know
they’re coming, but we don’t know how or when. And in case
you’ve forgotten, there is a city full of cops hunting us down
right now. If there’s trouble, we’re just as likely to end up in jail
as we are dead, and either way ends bloody for me.”
Zane crossed his arms and huffed. “I never thought I’d see
the day I wanted to call you a coward.”
“Whoa,” Owen whispered.
Nick sat straighter and put both hands out. “Okay, slow
down.”
Ty stared at Zane, not moving, not blinking. He didn’t
even appear to be breathing. Nick tensed, preparing to grab
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Ty when he lunged. Zane returned the stare, unwavering.
Across the table, Liam whistled softly.
Ty stood as if the noise had propelled him, his chair
scratching against the wooden floorboards. Nick stood with
him, but Ty didn’t attack.
“Where are you going?” Kelly asked.
“To get a drink,” Ty spat. Nick sighed as Ty stalked toward
the bar.
“Well that was productive,” Digger muttered.
Nick sat again. Digger and Kelly were both shaking their
heads, looking to Nick for guidance. Owen had his arms on
the table, resting his head on them. Liam was sitting with his
lips pursed, and when Nick made eye contact, Liam grinned
and winked. Zane was still leaning back in his chair, but his
body wasn’t relaxed. He was resting his mouth against his
hand, elbow propped on the arm of the chair. His hard eyes
followed Ty’s movements.
“Okay,” Nick said. “Nothing good is going to come of us
sitting here sniping at each other. We’ll call it a night, come
back with clearer heads at dawn. Keep watch in shifts of two.
Bell doesn’t take a turn.”
“You’re putting a guard on me?” Liam asked.
“Yes. Would you like to tell me why I shouldn’t?”
“I’d like to tell you where to go, do I have permission to
do that?” He stood, muttering under his breath as he walked
away. He said something to Ty as he mounted the stairs, then
ducked and covered when Ty chucked a heavy glass at him.
It shattered against the wall and rained shards over Liam’s
shoulders.
“Excellent idea, Grady!” Liam shouted. He stood from
his crouch. “Lace the steps with glass so we can hear them
coming, good thinking.”
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“Keep running your mouth, you bastard, you’ll wake up
bloody!” Ty shouted.
“Yeah, in my sleep, that’s the only way you’ll ever get the
upper hand.”
Liam hustled up the steps before Ty could reply, taking
them two at a time and narrowly avoiding the second glass Ty
threw at him.
Nick chewed on his lip for a few seconds, then turned to
glance at the others. “Who wants to volunteer for first watch
with Ty?”
The bar felt heavy when it was deserted, as if the music and
smoke and drink had all risen to the top and begun pressing
down on everyone below. That had always been Ty’s favorite
time of day. The memories weren’t so sweet now, though.
“Drew the short straw, huh?” Ty said as Zane came up
behind him. Ty couldn’t look him in the eye now, not even
through the mirror that hung over the back of the bar. The
last time he’d been called a coward, Zane had been the one
defending him. It was dizzying to see how all they’d built
could unravel so quickly.
Zane slid onto the stool beside him. Ty doggedly stared at
the bar top. He didn’t want to look at Zane right now, didn’t
want to feel the pain that came with those dark eyes.
“I was out of line, saying that in front of everyone,” Zane
said. His voice was soft, but still cold.
“You wanted to take me down a peg or two in front of the
boys. You did it. Congratulations.”
Zane sighed, and Ty felt the gust of his breath against his
cheek. “This is where you’re supposed to apologize too, and
we start trying to make sense of what we have left to us.” 200
Ty glanced up sharply. “What we have left to us? Why are
you so ready to walk, Zane? I was doing my job. You of all
people should understand what that means.”
Zane grunted. “Don’t you dare throw that in my face. You
know as well as I do that whatever you’ve been doing the past
two years was anything but your job.”
“Please,” Ty sneered.
“How about apologizing for lying to me? For spying on
me? Using me?”
Ty slammed his hand on the bar. “I never lied to you,
Garrett, not about us! Never once did I tell you anything that
wasn’t true, not when it came to you and me. And I sure as
hell didn’t use you for anything.”
“Well forgive me if I don’t believe a goddamn word you
say. The only way I hear the truth from you is when someone
has a gun to your fucking head. Or mine!”
“Someone did have a gun to your head!” Zane started to
get up, but Ty reached out to grab him. He didn’t dare let
him turn away, afraid Zane wouldn’t ever turn back again.
“After everything we’ve been through, why the hell can’t you
believe me?”
“Because you lie.”
The words hit him in the gut, and he gasped for air.
The curtain rustled and Ava came through carrying three
reservoir glasses. She set them on the bar, looking between Ty
and Zane with a raised eyebrow.
“You two going to sit there glaring at each other all night?”
she asked before ducking below the bar to retrieve a wooden
box from underneath.
Zane didn’t flinch. He continued to glower at Ty, the
anger and betrayal roiling in the air between them. They were
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both frightened, and the only thing they knew to do when
they were scared was lash out.
Ty leaned closer. “You can be angry for as long as you
want, Zane. It doesn’t change what’s happened, and it doesn’t
change the way I feel about you. Remember that, if nothing
else.”Ty left it at that, turning away from Zane to take one of
the glasses. They were specially made for preparing absinthe;
thick and heavy, with a wide mouth and a small reservoir in
the stem. They were quite beautiful, as drinking glasses went.
Ava pulled three ornate spoons from the wooden box and set
them on the bar.
The silence stretched thin. Ty had tried every avenue.
He’d explained himself, pleaded, reasoned with Zane, and
professed his love over and over. None of it had made a dent
in Zane’s armor. Ty peered sideways at Zane. There wasn’t
much else he could do, and Zane seemed just as willing to toss
it all away now as he had earlier. “This is the part where I drink
and don’t give a damn if it bothers you,” he whispered. “Feel
free to look away.”
Zane’s lip curled and he narrowed his eyes. “No need to
be concerned about me. Maybe a stiff drink will settle your
nerves.”
“My, my,” Ava said. “I see that gris-gris is working already.”
Ty snorted. He didn’t know if it was the gris-gris, but he
and this town sure as hell were cursed.
“Thank you for throwing the cheap glasses instead of
these,” Ava said as she poured a reservoir full of light green
liquid into each glass. The bottle was labeled Vieux Pontarlier.
It was the very best absinthe you could buy, made exactly the
same way it had been two hundred years before and imported
from France.
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He knew Zane had delved into all manner of chemicals,
legal and illegal. He wasn’t sure absinthe had made it to the
Miami scene, though, and he wasn’t sure Zane would know
what Ava was doing.
Zane glanced from the spoons to the dark bottle she set on
the bar, then back to Ty for a moment. He looked suspicious,
as if he thought Ty was about to do something dangerous or
illegal.
There was a completely mistaken aura surrounding
absinthe as that of a mysterious, addictive, mind-altering
substance, giving it a gothic horror sort of taboo. It was all
completely unfounded, of course. It was just about the only
thing Ty could drink while on the job, because while absinthe
did get you drunk, it also made you unusually lucid, creating
the illusion of a waking dream. He functioned well. It was all
he had drunk for nearly two years while undercover.
He set the spoon on his glass, making sure the special lip
underneath caught the edge of the glass to keep it in place.
Then he plucked a sugar cube from the bowl Ava had set
down and placed it on the center of the spoon.
Ava turned to fill a pitcher with water.
“What is this?” Zane finally asked, sounding annoyed to
have to ask.
“Absinthe. The real stuff, not the tourist trade.”
Zane frowned but didn’t say anything. Ty didn’t try to set
any of his preconceptions straight.
“We’d sit and do this every night,” Ava told Zane as she
returned with the pitcher full of ice water. “You should try it.”
“Garrett’s got poor impulse control. Don’t you, Garrett?
Has to stay away from the cocktails.” Ty poured the water out
over his sugar cube. The water and dissolving sugar mixed
with the green absinthe below, turning it a weak, milky green.
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“That’s right,” Zane snarled. “Maybe you should learn a
thing or two about it.”
Ty removed the spoon, shaking his head.
“Every night after we sang, we’d go sit in that corner there,
pour a glass of la fée verte, and laissez les bon temps rouler,”
Ava told Zane with a hint of bittersweet irony. She leaned
her elbows on the bar and took a sip of her drink. “And every
Saturday night,” she continued, voice lower, growing huskier,
“we would pick a plaything to join us. You would have been
chosen, no doubt.”
“He was,” Ty muttered.
After what felt like a drawn-out moment of silence, Zane
said, “Let the good times rol , huh?”
Ty focused on his drink, watching the green liquid swirl
and mix. “When in Rome.”
“Rome wasn’t the only thing that burned in a day,” Zane
replied evenly.
Ty met his eyes for a long moment, for the first time seeing
distrust in them. He lowered his head, closing his eyes, then
took a drink.
Ava reached beneath the bar again and pulled out a little
homemade voodoo dol , made with sticks and a piece of
burlap. The eyes had been drawn on, and the hair was bundled
sage. She set it on the bar.
“What’s this?” Ty reached for it, recognizing the ring
around its neck. It was his, one he’d thought he’d lost years
ago. His confusion turned to outrage and he grabbed the dol .
“This is me?”
Ava shrugged. “I had some free time. It’s served its purpose.
I guess you’ll be wanting it back. I’m going to bed.” She picked
up her glass to take with her. “You boys play nice.”
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“You voodoo’d me?” Ty gaped at her as she left, the
voodoo doll still in his hand. “You bitch!”
Her laughter reached them from the back.
Zane plucked the doll from his hand. “You told me
voodoo dolls were good luck.”
“They are,” Ty answered, still scowling at the curtain.
“She’s got a lot of pins in you.”
Ty glanced at him and yanked the doll out of his hand.
The pins were mostly in his head, blue ones, meant to draw
love. But there were also white, red, and black pins scattered
over the dol ’s torso, hands, and groin, symbolizing positivity,
power, and repelling evil.
“There’s one in almost every place you’ve been hurt the
past few years.”
“None of them mean bad things,” Ty insisted, though he
was flustered by the coincidence of the locations. He started
yanking them out and tossing the pins on the bar.
“I thought you said they meant good things.”
“Shut up.”
The silence began to stretch, growing more unbearable by
the second. Ty could feel Zane’s eyes on him. He glared at the
doll for a minute before taking a deep breath and looking at
Zane. “What now?”
Zane still watched him intently. He shook his head. “You
think you did no wrong. And I can’t trust you.” He shrugged.
“What else is there?”
Ty held his breath for a few heartbeats, just to see if his
heart was actually still beating. Zane couldn’t have crushed