“Let me buy you a drink,” he says as he leads me to the door. “What you need is to see how that impulse of yours was on the money. Underneath our skins, we really are all pretty much the same. And that includes you.”

“I don’t know .

But he won’t let me finish.

“You just need to mix with people more,” he says, “and see for yourself.” So I let him buy me a beer. We lean with our backs to the bar, watching the band. I see Lizzie’s eyes widen when she spots us, but I just lift my bottle in a toast to her. She grins and gives me a nod, then puts her attention back into her playing.

I let my gaze wander. It drifts up to the rafters where I see a doonie sitting, banging his heels against the wood.

“I hope you’re just here for the show,” a voice says from beside me.

I turn to see it’s that red-haired woman who stopped the buffalo from overrunning the fairy courts.

“Hey, Christiana,” Jack says, leaning across me. “What brings you out to the sticks?”

She nods her chin at the stage.

“To see my brother play,” she says. “What about you? If you’re here to cause trouble . . .”

“Darling,” Jack interrupts her, “I don’t even know the meaning of the word.”

She laughs. “Yeah, but somehow it finds you all the same.”

“Not tonight.” His gaze goes to the clock on the wall behind the bar. “And look at the time. I’ve got a poker game to get to.”

He finishes off his beer in one long swallow and puts the empty bottle on the bar.

“You kids be good,” he says.

And then he’s walking off toward the door.

I watch until he steps outside before I turn back to look at Christiana.

“Did he set us up?” she asks.

“Not on my end.”

“Because I wouldn’t put it past him. Those wolf boys might play at being tough and hard, but they’ve got a romantic streak going through them a mile wide.”

“Look, I’ll just . . .”

“Relax,” she says. “I don’t bite. And we’re just here to see the band, right? So we might as well do it together.” She waits a moment, then asks, “Aren’t you going to offer to buy me a drink?”

My first impulse is to leave. But then I remember what Jack said earlier. You just need to mix with people more . . .

It’s safe now. Odawa’s not out there, somewhere in the night—or at least he’s not out there gunning for me anymore.

I can do this.

“Hello?” she says.

I smile. “Sure. What’ll you have?”

“A margarita, I think.”

I order her drink from the bartender and get myself another beer. When she has her margarita in hand, she taps the brim of her glass against my bottle.