Page 64 of Veil of Death and Shadow

I took a sip of my tea, letting the water scald my tongue rather than loosen it. “There’s nothing to tell. Like I said, one-time thing. What’s new in your lives?”

Claudine batted her hand, as if it was of little consequence. “You need to work on your storytelling skills, girl. How are wesupposed to live vicariously through you when that’s all you give us to work with?”

“Perhaps she wants to discuss something other than her sex life, Deenie,” Greta said, and I found myself wanting to hug her with relief at the suggestion.

I nodded. “Literally anything else.”

The woman pouted; the expression so childish that I laughed at the odd contrast with the wisdom in her eyes. “At least tell us what he looked like?”

“Like an adonis, I’m sure,” a deep voice said.

My blood froze at the familiar Irish lilt.

Kieran stood at the door. A door I hadn’t even heard open.

He’d ditched the cloak in our brief time apart and was now dressed in a much more sensible black T-shirt and jeans.

The inviting gleam on Claudine’s face had dried up, replaced by a scowl. “Get out of here, boy. Leave her be. I mean it. She’s ours.”

Greta’s gaze darted between the intruder and me; her expression unreadable. She patted her friend’s hand. “This isn’t our business, Deenie.”

“Sure, it is,” Claudine said. I was pretty sure the woman thought everything was her business. “I mean it, Kieran. You leave her alone. This is my one afternoon of enjoyment.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he said, though there was a softness to his tone.

“You all know each other?” I asked, though judging by the alarm his presence had inspired in the women, I wasn’t sure that they were exactly on friendly terms if they did.

“Something like that,” he said, his focus locked on them. “You certainly attract an odd sort, don’t you, Mareena.” Then, back to them, he added, “I’m not even sure how you two found her—or got here altogether. There’ll be hell to pay if anyone finds out.”

“Don’t threaten them,” I snapped, my brain catching up to the chaos from earlier. “And stop stalking me. I mean it. Get out of here, Kieran or I’ll—” Well, I wasn’t sure what I would do. It wasn’t like I could call the cops or anything. Even in the Before, they usually caused more harm than good.

Luckily, I was spared the necessity of landing on a solution.

“Oh my god, I’m so late.” Sora burst through the front door, her face coated in a sheen of sweat, like she’d run here. And Sora didn’t run. “Please tell me my client hasn’t shown up yet?”

“Not that I’ve noticed,” I said, “but I haven’t been downstairs.”

“Good, that means one thing is going my way today at least.” She walked past Kieran, not sparing him so much as a glance, and pointed at the cup of tea in the booth. “Cool if I grab this? I haven’t had any caffeine yet and I don’t have time to deal with a headache or start a pot of fresh coffee.”

Without waiting for a response, she swiped the cup and took a sip, her nose scrunching in distaste. “Mint. Not my favorite.” Her eyes lit up. “Does that mean your therapist already came by today? Damn, was hoping to finally catch a glimpse of her and introduce myself. Let her know I’m a big fan of her work. Next week, maybe. Anyway, catch you later, okay? Feel like we haven’t properly spoken in ages. So, tonight? After the dinner rush. We can open a bottle of wine or something, hang out with Menace. I even miss that old rascal, which is really saying something.” Then, without waiting for a response, she disappeared into the back hall, where there was a staircase into the basement and her little studio.

“I—” I opened and closed my mouth several times, trying to put words to the confusion. It wasn’t like Sora to completely ignore customers, even if she was rushed—let alone steal their drink.

She hadn’t so much as spared a glance at any of them.

“Ladies,” Kieran sighed, “are you telling me she doesn’t know?”

And Claudine had been sitting right in front of her. Was she so out of it that she’d missed the woman entirely?

“Know what?” I asked, half locked in a daze.

“Sorry, dearie,” Claudine winced, “it was just so nice to pretend like it was the good old times again.”

“Good old times?” My brain was molasses as I tried to make sense of the different threads.

“She means when we were alive,” Greta added, patting her friend’s hand again.

My chest tightened and I stared at them, really looking at them this time.

---