Page 28 of Monsters of Midlife

“You’ve already taken me out of the safe house.” I pointed out.

“Good point,” she nodded. “Who are you going to call?”

“I just want to check on my best friend. She has no idea where I am, and she’ll have a search party looking for me if I don’t send her some kind of signal.”

Sophie looked sympathetic. “I get it. Ava, the lady who piloted you here? She’s my BFF.” She handed me her phone. “Text only.”

I grinned not sure if it was the liquor or the idea of connecting with Laney.

“Laney it’s Caroline.” I typed. “I’m okay.”

“WTF?!” The response was immediate. “Your house disappeared! They are searching the ruins for your body!”

“I’m fine. I’m with Ryder.” I paused waiting for her response.

“I should have known.” Her irritation was apparent.

“Call off the manhunt,” I said, assuming it was on the news.

“Fine. That guy Magnus came looking for you,” she typed. “You didn’t like him, did you?”

“No.” She of all people knew I was still stuck on Ryder even though he was a lost cause.

“Cool. I went on a date with him because we were both worried about you.”

“Go ahead.” I wrote the words out; secretly happy she was seeing someone.

“Times up,” Sophie plucked the phone from my hand. “I’ve got to go. Talk later.” She said the words out loud as she typed. Then she wiped her hand over the phone and all the messages Laney and I had been writing disappeared.

“Did you just use magic to delete your messages?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“You could have just hit delete,” I pointed out.

“I was wiping them from her phone also and removing the number. She can’t be able to find you.” Sophie explained.

“Fine,” I murmured forgetting how I was being held in Ryder’s world, a world I was completely not familiar with. I glanced around at the satyrs and other dark creatures lurking in the shadows.

“What would you like for your next drink?” Sophie asked, raising an eyebrow at me as she leaned in. She whispered quietly, “Don’t mind everybody in the bar. They just haven’t seen a human in here in a long time. In fact, maybe they’ve never seen a human in here.” She glanced over in the corner at one of the weather-beaten looking men with a long mustache and long hair.

His gaze was like steel as he stared at us. The bartender was looking at him, too. I suddenly realized everybody was waiting for the guy in the booth to make a decision.

“What is happening?” I asked Sophie.

“That’s Tony Furlan. He owns this place. He’s deciding if you can still drink here,” she murmured. “Humans are known for having a low tolerance.”

“Maybe we should’ve called ahead?” I asked Sophie.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, flashing a bright smile across the bar at the old Satyr.

He shook his head but gave a shrug and a slight nod afterwards and the tall, blue skinned bartender quickly grabbed a couple of glasses and started mixing drinks.

“I haven’t ordered,” I said.

Sophie shrugged. “I guess Jack thinks he knows what you want.”

Jack came over and put a couple of cocktails in front of us.

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