Two Witches and a Whiskey by Annette Marie

I’d missed him because he wasn’t in the main group. She cast a disdainful look across the room. “Half the room is afraid to bid against him,” she continued with a prim sniff, “but a low-life criminal like that could never intimidate us.” “Ugh.” Hisaya tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“Who?” Kai asked with obvious reluctance. “Ah, well,” Hisaya answered in English, “we can only hope he won’t interfere.” The woman called Kikue-san said something in Japanese.

“Do you have your eye on anything? There’s a magnificent caduceus coming up later this evening.” “We’re interested in several items,” Hisaya told Kai, terrified I might open my uncouth mouth and offend everyone present. Two million? Wow, no wonder we were underdressed. I hadn’t been listening to the auctioneer’s rapid-fire babble. My expression froze and I involuntarily glanced at the book on display. “Kikue-san, did you hear that? The grimoire just sold for two million.” “Ahaha!” she burst out before I could speak. I drew myself up, and her ugly expression shifted to alarm as she realized I intended to intervene. Her whole face pulled into a condescending sneer that communicated her exact feelings about my presence. I shot a pointed look at Hisaya, commanding her to referee this shit. Identifying the tone of the conversation was difficult, but it didn’t sound pleasant. I scanned the gathered mythics for Zak, then checked my phone, half listening to the family reunion. The Yamadas were ignoring me, so I returned the favor. His strikingly handsome features were unique, concealing his heritage, and he stood a head taller than anyone else in the group. Why was I surprised he could speak the language? I’d realized months ago that he was part Japanese-not that anyone could guess by looking at him. Kai bent in a shallow bow for the oldest man, who nodded and said something. The moment he was close enough, Hisaya burst into rapid Japanese. She gestured for me and Kai to join them.Ī sharp breath hissed through his clenched teeth, but he didn’t hesitate. Hisaya stood with a group of Japanese men and women, the only smiling face. Bouncers and assistants hovered around the dais. He was gesturing at the thick leather tome displayed on a table beside him. The white walls featured huge canvases of abstract compositions, soft spotlights illuminating the bright colors and thick strokes of the artist’s brush.Ī dais had been set up at the far end, where an elderly man at a podium spoke into a mic.

On the second level, we followed the other stragglers into a dimly lit gallery room, filled with at least a hundred people. “We can wait outside or try something el-” “Are you sure?” I whispered as we strode for the stairs. His jaw flexed, then he clamped his arm around me again. “And that someone is upstairs at the auction?” “Because my family wouldn’t be present otherwise.”

Two Witches and a Whiskey by Annette Marie