Lugh followed me across to the door. “I know what you’re doing.”

I grinned and patted his arm. “I shouldn’t be the only one in this little family group getting rid of the cobwebs, brother mine.”

He rolled his eyes. “I cannot—”

“You can. You just have to give in to the inevitable.”

“Some things are worth taking time over. I believe this might be one of them.”

Which was probably as much of an admission of intent as we were likely to get at the moment. I rose onto my toes and kissed his cheek. “Just don’t take too much time. Women only have a finite measure of patience when it comes to these matters, and you’ve already wasted a whole lot of hers.”

He opened the door and ushered me out. “You’re a troublemaker.”

“Nope. Just want to see you happy.”

“A man can be happy without getting married, you know.”

“Who said anything about marriage? I was talking about sex, brother. Just sex.”

He muttered something under his breath, and though I didn’t entirely catch it, I suspected he was calling me names again. I laughed, shoved my hands into my pockets, and walked away. The night remained cold enough for my breath to frost the air, but it nevertheless felt good to be out in it with a storm rumbling overhead.

Thankfully, the rain remained several kilometers away, which meant I’d get home before it unleashed again.

But as I neared Eastgate Street, I became aware of smoke riding the strengthening breeze. Fire. There was a fire somewhere close by. I couldn’t see any flames, but I nevertheless broke into a run, my heart beating a tattoo as fierce and loud as my footsteps. I swung into Eastgate Street and came to a sliding stop when I saw multiple fire engines and police cars.

This time, it wasn’t the tavern that had been hit.

It was Alinda’s.

Chapter Seven

Heat washed across the night, and smoke stung the air, catching in my throat and making me cough. Entwined within that smoke was an acridness that smelled a little too familiar; this fire, like the one at Aram’s, had been started by a blue-dust spell.

But why? What had Alinda known—or maybe even held—that required this sort of action? And was she safe? Her shop had been closed today, and none of the basement-levels had accommodation, so unless she’d come back here this evening, she should be.

Of course, the way things had been going lately, nothing was guaranteed.

The police had set up a wide no-go zone that prevented me—and any possible customers—from getting into the tavern from the street. I’d have to retrace my steps and use the rear entrance, but customers weren’t likely to do that. I dug out my phone and rang Ingrid.

“Hey, boss,” she said, “everything is fine, but there’s been a wee bit of excitement here this evening.”

“Yeah, I’m standing out front watching it. The tavern didn’t get any damage from the explosion or fire?”