‘Water will…’

He held up a palm. ‘No. I think you’ll enjoy this.’ I could tell from his tone that a Buckie Delight was probably the most disgusting drink known to man. I shrugged. I could make him order me something else or brazen it out; for some stupid reason, I chose the latter.

While the barman turned away to make my drink, I focused on the Bull. If anything, he looked heavier than the last time we’d met. For someone with his wealth and position, he didn’t lead the healthiest of lifestyles.

‘You should take better care of yourself,’ I told him. ‘You look like Jabba the Hutt with a bad case of stomach flu.’

‘Who?’

I sighed. The least I could have done was find myself an unwilling slave who knew something about popular science fiction. ‘Never mind.’ I propped an elbow onto the bar and rested my chin on my hand. ‘How’s your Gift doing these days?’ I asked.

Suddenly his face was wide and fearful. ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ he growled. I’d asked the question though, so he couldn’t evade it that easily. ‘It is … diminished,’ he said through gritted teeth.

I sucked in a breath. So it was true. My subconscious was stealing Gifts, whether I wanted it to or not. I absorbed the information, my mind whirring through the possibilities.

Malevolence glittered from his dark eyes. ‘It’s because you stole my name from me.’

No, it wasn’t but he didn’t need to know that. ‘So it’s been like that since our escapade through the air?’ I prodded. ‘Your Gift lost its power and it’s not returned?’

He glared at me. ‘No. It’s not. I can still see auras but they’re weaker than before.’

Interesting. I wished he’d thought to mention that to me before. I could only conclude that I’d unconsciously stolen part of his Gift and, while whatever magical pizzazz it imbued me with had gone from my system, it had not returned to him. The idea that I could strip all those proud Sidhe of their Gifts was exciting. I tried – and failed – not to appear too happy.

He put down his drink. ‘What do you want? Are you just here to gloat?’

‘No,’ I said cheerily. ‘I got hold of some anti-gloating cream to stop me doing that.’ I paused. ‘Although it is very tempting to rub it in.’ The Bull stared at me. ‘Oh, come on, you have to admit that was at least a little bit funny.’

The barman placed a long glass with a thick purple liquid inside it. I gazed at the glass then pushed it towards the Bull. ‘Drink,’ I ordered.

‘Don’t you trust it?’ he sneered.

‘No, funnily enough I don’t.’

He rolled his eyes and took the glass, took one large gulp and licked his lips. Then he placed it back down and slid it towards me. Without thinking I picked it up and took a sip, then choked and spluttered as it hit my tongue. I pulled away from the bar and doubled over. I was pretty sure my liver screamed.