Whatever she called it, it really worked for her.

“Try not to eat my guests, Issa,” Talia said, with a fond eye roll. “They’re friends, not food.”

“I’m not able to make any such promises at this time.” She smiled at me, a sweet and open grin, very endearing and not particularly indicative of cannibalistic bloodthirst. “Emmy, right? Hey, awesome to finally meet you. You know, outside of your chthonic-goddess form—which, by the way, is totally slamming. Super smitey.”

“Um, thanks?”

Her eyes, still dancing with amusement, strayed to Linden, and she gave a pert salute. “I see you, too, Thorn. Must have been epic, watching that messy motherfucker go down like that. I thought I was gonna pee my pants when that squid clocked him in his shitty face.”

“A certain amount of petty thrill may have been involved,” Linden admitted, as I remembered that Isidora had been the one to suss out Gareth’s cheating in the first place.

Issa’s eyes shifted to Rowan, who’d just rejoined our group after wandering away to add more to his plate. In an instant, all the warmth fled from her face, leaving her affect so cold and implacable that she seemed almost like a different person. As her fingers drifted up to graze one of her pendants, the occult accoutrements suddenly took on a more ominous mien. She looked like she’d stepped from one of those tales in which the arrogant young noble doesn’t pay proper respect to an impoverished crone, who later turns out to be a powerful, grudge-keeping (and usually foxy) sorceress.

“Rowan Thorn,” she said, making his name sound like a two-word hex.

“Isidora,” he replied, in a wary tone. “Hello. Thanks for, uh, having us.”

“You didn’t say he’d be coming, Talia,” Issa said as if he hadn’t spoken, imbuing the single pronoun with an impressive amount of contempt.

“You knew we were working together,” Talia replied through an exasperated sigh. “Expecting him tonight wasn’t exactly a leap. Besides, I didn’t think it was still quite this much of a deal.”

“Well, it is,” Issa said, continuing to glare balefully at Rowan. “And it will continue to be.”

“Well, okay!” Rowan said, eyebrows shooting up as he began to back away. A solid move, given that the younger Avramov was radiating such hostility it all but rippled the air around her like heat distortion. “This has been . . . fun, but I think I’ll be calling it a night. Lin, did you wanna stay with Emmy, or—”

“Nope!” Linden replied, so hastily I turned to her, wondering what she could be picking up through her empathic bond with Rowan that would give her such a deer-in-the-headlights look. “I mean, Em, if that’s okay with you? I don’t want to leave Rowan to walk home by himself.”

“Um, sure, if you really don’t want to stay,” I said, increasingly baffled.

“I’ll make sure Emmy gets home safe,” Talia assured her. “Thanks for coming. Sorry you have to leave so soon.”