Page 83 of The Holy Academy of Witches

He gestured vaguely around him, “Everything.”

I made a show of looking around the bar. It was the kind of place in America that would be filled with smoke, the stage small but charismatic. The current act - a single guitar player, lending a comfortable atmosphere to the chatter from the packed tables. Faces were dimly lit from the overhead lights and more buzzing neon signs. I landed back on the bar that looked as though it should be sticky, but was spotless. I smiled, recognising Adeline’s influence. Maybe she was both people. Not a lie at all, but a sleight of hand.

“I think that nothing is ever what it first appears, and I’d be disappointed if you all chose to meet somewhere that only served lettuce for food.”

Cillian sipped some honey coloured liquid that was most likely overpriced whiskey or bourbon, without comment. I slurped the ends of my rum and coke before tossing a cherry in and munching pointedly.

“So Cillian, do you find your music distasteful?”

Without changing his reclined posture he slid his gaze to mine. “Not particularly, why?”

“Well, I just find it hard to believe someone who would spend so much time creating original music, would keep it to unannounced stages. Not to mention lacking to create any sort of digital presence, unless of course he was embarrassed by the subpar music he was producing.”

Adeline’s smirk became an outright grin. Rude, I was obviously being very smooth.

“Interesting conclusion, can you think of no other reason a musician might keep their work private?”

“Several, but none that fit you I’m afraid.” I said, sliding into a similar slouch while mimicking his accent.

“Do elaborate then.”

“Well it could be the musician has no funds for production, obviously not the case here. Or perhaps they lack the ability to navigate the internet with any competence. I doubt that scenario as well.”

Cillian smirked, “Is that all?”

“For now.” I swirled my empty glass and the extra cherries I’d requested clunked against the glass.

“I suppose for someone who grew up in relative anonymity it’s hard to imagine the need for privacy in others, although I did enjoy the compliments on my competency and wealth.” He had me there. I changed the tally in my mind; Sage: one, Cillian: one. And still no way of asking for a copy of his songs, or taking back the compliments. Great start, Sage.

The acoustic strumming came to an end and Cillian stood smoothly, navigating his long limbs with an ease that gave away his lethal nature. In his leather and ink I forgot to fear him. It was a level of comfort I should know led to death. Like every moth flying into flame seeking light and finding their end. I needed to remember to fly away.

Cillian walked behind the bar where he filled his glass and Adeline’s with a ridiculously fancy bottle of whiskey.

“Should you be back there?” I asked with a frown.

“He owns it.” Adeline answered, accepting her drink smoothly.

Rather than refilling my rum and coke he slid an entire jar of cherries toward me.

I laughed before I could stop myself.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you try and smother a laugh before Sage, what’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Adeline’s eyes glittered as she glanced between Cillian and I. “And Cillian, I’ve never seen you waiting on people before, very interesting.”

I stayed silent, unable and unwilling to acknowledge the reason behind my uncharacteristic silence.

“The new bartender is apparently incompetent and a gentleman would never allow a woman to go without.” He said with a nod, encouraging her to enjoy the whiskey, did she really enjoy it? It was a far cry from the Tequila shot at the bonfire.

“Yes, of course. How would Sage have managed without you to look after herneeds?”

I choked, gagging a little at the perceived innuendo and then flushing bright red. If I didn’t look up, then they wouldn’t see me right? Maybe I could just melt into the floor? No, I’d just let the cherry kill me. It would be easier than dealing with the image now in my head.

“Now this, Adeline. Is interesting. Tell me Sage, whatever would be causing you to turn such a vibrant colour?”

Clutching my throat I let out a few forced coughs. “I almost choked Cillian, everyone turns red when they’re choking.”

Cillian snorted. Shit, had I just made another innuendo? My ears began to heat to an uncomfortable level.

“Perhaps she’s simply following high fashion and matching her skin tone to her dress.” Adeline remarked.

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