Page 19 of Amber Gambler

Outside, the elm roared with flames, which set Carter gawking. “Should we do something about that?”

“It does that now.” I spun the leaf between my fingers. “Just ignites when the mood strikes it.”

Even without a physical connection, the leaf appeared to follow the tree’s ignition pattern.

“That’s not normal.”

“Nope.”

“Your sister’s a dryad.” She reached toward the leaf, hesitated, then touched it. “What does she think?”

“Give it a minute.” We stood together, watching until the fire extinguished itself. “Show’s over.”

“The leaf is fine.” Crossing to the window, she stared across the road, her forehead scrunching. “The tree wasn’t harmed either.” She glanced back at me. “Want me to get someone out here to look at it?”

Eventually, a burning tree would draw unwanted attention, and the wrong people would get curious. They would come sniffing around The Body Shop for answers, and that was not a level of scrutiny theotherfamily business could survive. Already my bottom line was sore from the hit I took after spirits learned how two of my lessees had been devoured by the dybbuk.

Even among the dead, death was bad for business.

“I would appreciate that.” I returned the leaf to my pocket. “Just in case.”

Just in case Kierce wasn’t responsible for the phenomenon after all.

Dusk foundme sitting outside the gates of Bonaventure in my wagon. Paco had gone on his way and left Matty dozing beside me. I gave him a minute or two to acclimate to being alone in his skin, then I did what any good little sister would do.

I poked him in the same spot over and over until the repetitive pain woke him.

“This is why Josie is my favorite sister,” he mumbled. “She’s never this mean to me.”

“Josie isn’t the one who suggested we meet at Lure.”

“Lure?” His eyes flew open, and he shot upright. “Are you serious?”

Owned by the local incubi and succubae clan, Lure answered an age-old question.

Who goes to a sex club to eat chicken wings?

That would be me.

“Mary,” he said, flashing me a million-dollar smile, “I thought you would never ask.”

Lure had no dress code.Mostly because its patrons tended to lose bits and pieces of their clothing as the evening wore on. Part brothel, part dance club, it wasn’t my scene. Except for their most excellent chicken wings. The Caribbean jerk wasamazing. Their loaded French fries? Cheese, bacon bits, homemade ranch dressing, and fresh green onions? Who needed sex when you could have a foodgasm?

As soon as Matty and I crossed the threshold, our sister flagged us down near a booth in the back.

Josie sashayed over to us, popping her hips in time with the music, wearing a slinky emerald silk dress that barely covered her butt. Her feet were bare, as usual, but she had trained vines wrapping her ankles and calves to give her a sandaled look that matched her homegrown hairband and fit her nature aesthetic.

Matty hadn’t changed after work, and neither had I. I came for the food. He came to forget.

About Keisha.

Who he had broken up with despite Josie and me begging him to give her a real chance.

“Bash will be right out with your food,” Josie yelled in my ear. “I already placed your order.”

“Thanks.” I waded toward the booth but stopped when a slim man cut in front of me. “Oh my God.”

Not a man. Definitely not a man. Josie was going to flip.

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