Page 47 of Redeemed
“What information?” I half rise from my seat, hands on the table where they can be seen. “Should I have told you to search every beach in Southern California? I don’t have anything more specific than that.”
A muscle twitches in Kowalski’s jaw. “What about the house where Betancourt is hiding? We could search there and—”
“And let him know we’re getting close and he needs to move the Princess someplace new?” Kowalski’s two friends definitely look worried, so I keep going. “Look, I came to you and said I wanted to find the Princess when no one else would. There’s no rational reason for me to keep anything important from you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Dia á sábháil. Why would I lie?” And why would the Princess herself imply Kowalski is the problem? That makes me even less likely to say anything.
“So you can give the Princess to your Morrigan.”
David snickers and I clench my fists so I won’t smack him. “There is no possible circumstance in which I’d give the Princess to Ananda Pendragon.”Unless she outright asks me to.“I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but that won’t happen.”
“Enough.” Kowalski speaks through gritted teeth. “Come outside now.”
“If I go outside with you, my friends will follow.”
“Then my friends will kill them.”
David laughs out loud. “Come on, sugar britches. Try.”
The waiter chooses this moment to arrive. He’s a pretty thing, and David’s doing a shit job of pretending to ignore the guy’s perfect hair. The waiter leans over our table to pick up our empty glasses and looks me straight in the eye. “Can I get y’all another round? And by the way, the management will be incredibly unhappy if you provoke those assholes while they’re in our establishment.”
“So you’re saying I should go outside with three armed elves?”
He pats my hand. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
Gritting my teeth, I turn to Kowalski. He’s relaxed a micrometer and one of his friends has his arms crossed, clearly giving up.
“I think you should pull up some chairs and let me buy you a drink.” I’ve literally got my fingers crossed, hoping this defuses him. “I will tell you, in as much detail as possible, what my next steps will be.”
“You’re lying,” Kowalski says, reaching for his gun.
“Jesus Christ, give it a rest, my dude.” Accalia stands up, and although she’s probably all of five foot one, she commands all of our attention. Kowalski does, in fact, let go of his gun. Color me impressed.
Accalia reaches into her little black clutch purse and pulls out a white business card. “See this? It says I’m a certified empath, and while I have very good shields, having three assholes, sorry, elves walk up with guns drawn disrupted my control.”
Kowalski looks from the card to her face and back again. Whatever he sees must be convincing, because his shoulders slump.
“I can tell you with absolute certainty that Connor is telling you the whole truth as he knows it. There was no trace of a lie in his voice or in his words.”
Now all three elves are looking uncomfortable. The waiter is still hovering, as if the soap opera playing out at our table is more entertaining that whatever’s happening in the rest of his section. I catch his eye. “Can you help them find chairs and then bring them a round of whatever they want? I’m buying.”
That breaks through their immobility and for a good three minutes there’s a flurry of activity. Our table’s not really big enough for seven, but we all crowd around, waiting for our drinks. I order coffee because I can’t afford to be sloppy.
I wait until we’re all settled to speak. “I’m not sure whether I’m more upset that you think I’d lie to you or angry that someone’s out there spreading rumors.”
“More than one someone,” one of Kowalski’s friends says. He’s fair skinned with straw-colored blond hair. “I had at least three people tell me you’d found the Princess and were keeping her from us.”
Between his earnest blue aura and his concerned smile, he’s so sincere I almost believe him. Almost, but not quite. “What’s your name?”
“Mikael.”
“Did either of you two hear these rumors?” I point at Kowalski and his remaining friend.
“Not directly,” Kowalski says, his expression guarded. “Did you, Ivan?”
The third elf is having trouble holding onto his glamour. His ears are way more pointed than any human’s would be, and his eyes are a disturbing Kelly green. “Only from Mikael.”
