Assassin's Blood Page 28

  I stumbled my way into the next song, more than half my attention on the guy. Was he drunk? He slid off his stool and started weaving through the crowd. One of his mates followed, grabbing at his arm, but he shook him off. Where was Randall? This was taking a turn I didn’t like.

  But the publican, who was also fae, was nowhere to be seen. Only Cathy, as human as they came, stood gaping behind the bar, watching the guy’s unsteady progress across the room. He stumbled as he hit the crowd on the dance floor, and a woman fell against her partner. His friend, who was still following him, tried to stop him again, but he was waving his arms in the air as though he was having some kind of fit. A small space opened up around him as people became aware of the crazy guy in their midst and tried to shuffle out of the way.

  We got to a softer moment in the song, and I could hear him again, still yelling about horns. Demons, too, this time. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. What could I do but keep singing? A quick glance showed me that the others were aware of him; Willow was giving him a death glare, and Sage watched him with narrowed eyes, almost daring him to get any closer. If he did, we’d have to do something. We couldn’t have the audience climbing up on stage attacking the band members.

  Because I was pretty sure that was what he wanted to do. Green and purple lights swirled across his face, which was screwed up into an expression of intense hatred. His other friend came to help the first, one of them grabbing each arm, but there was no stopping him. His fury gave him strength, enough to shove one into a crowd of girls.

  The girls squealed as their drinks went flying, and a couple of them stumbled in their high heels. There was nothing for it; I’d have to get down there and take him on myself. I was confident I’d be more than a match for some drunk guy who couldn’t even see straight, but I had a feeling Randall wouldn’t be too impressed at me decking one of his customers.

  As if thinking of him had summoned him, Randall appeared at last, with his son Tony in tow. Randall had some troll blood back in the family tree somewhere for sure. He and Tony were both built like ambulatory mountains, with legs the size of tree trunks and biceps too big for me to get my hands around. Okay, I had smallish hands, but they were massive.

  Tony grabbed one arm and Randall grabbed the other, and they lifted the guy off the ground as if he were a child. He kicked and flailed, but the crowd made room and they bore him towards the doors and out into the night. A few moments later, they came back inside, and the guy and his friends didn’t. Randall must have cast an Aversion on them.

  I relaxed back into the music and we finished the set with no further disturbances. I squeezed my way through the crowd once we were on a break, gratefully accepting a glass of water from Cathy. My mouth felt drier than the Sahara.

  “Where did Randall go?” I asked her. I wanted to find out what the guy had been saying, and whether he really could see through Rowan’s Glamour.

  “Don’t know,” she said. “It’s pretty busy for a Monday night. You guys were great!”

  “Thanks.” I took my drink and pushed through to the door. Sure enough, Tony was outside in the cooler air, like some giant guardian statue. His dad employed him as a bouncer and, consequently, The Drunken Irishman was the only pub in the area that didn’t have the police turning up at least once a week.

  “Nice singing,” he said. “What happened to Willow?”

  “Thanks. She’s lost her voice, so I’m filling in tonight. What was with that guy you threw out?”

  He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I reckon he was on something before he came. Probably ice. I’ve seen some angry drunks before, but that was something else.”

  “He seemed to be … hallucinating, right?”

  His eyes were the colour of granite, but shadowed with worry. “I hope so, Al. I hope so.”

  Want to read the rest? Get it now on Amazon.

  Also by Marina Finlayson

  MAGIC’S RETURN SERIES

  The Fairytale Curse

  The Cauldron’s Gift

  THE PROVING SERIES

  Moonborn

  Twiceborn

  The Twiceborn Queen

  Twiceborn Endgame

  SHADOWS OF THE IMMORTALS SERIES

  Stolen Magic

  Murdered Gods

  Rivers of Hell

  Hidden Goddess

  Caged Lightning

  THIRTEEN REALMS SERIES

  Changeling Exile

  Changeling Magic

  Changeling Illusion

  Acknowledgments

  A big thank-you this time must go to Jen Rasmussen for her insightful comments and enthusiasm for the story. It was lovely to have a fellow writer to bounce ideas off when the story wasn’t behaving.

  Also to my editor, Isabella Pickering, whose suggestions made this a better book, and whose love for Raven knows no bounds.

  And, as always, to my husband, Mal. Love you with broccoli on top.

  About the Author

  Marina Finlayson is a reformed wedding organist who now writes fantasy. She is married and shares her Sydney home with three kids, a large collection of dragon statues and one very stupid dog with a death wish.

  Her idea of heaven is lying in the bath with a cup of tea and a good book until she goes wrinkly.