They ordered at the bar, a whiskey neat for Arthur and tonic waters for the paranormals, and brought the drinks to a corner booth with benches and a table carved from wood.

Arthur and Sebastian both stepped toward the same bench, the one against the wall, where a man could watch the rest of the pub without his own back exposed. They stopped short just before they collided. Arthur narrowed his eyes, and Sebastian grudgingly stepped back, gesturing for Arthur to take it.

Arthur waited for Rory to slide in first. He slid down to the window, glaring daggers at Sebastian. “You owe Ace a hell of an apology for using your magic on him in Philly.”

“Lieutenant Kenzie could have just answered my questions.” Sebastian set his drink down. “But I don’t like magic used on the non-magical, especially mine,” he said, more quietly. “I am sorry for that.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You might as well call me Arthur; you’ve had your enervation magic in my aura, no need to be coy now,” he said, and Rory’s glare somehow intensified. “How’s your friend, Mr. Hyde? Still on holiday in the Spanish Inquisition?”

“He was never a friend,” Sebastian said. “And yes, he’s still bound with psychometry.”

Arthur took a sip, letting the whiskey burn down his throat. “Your magic literally weakens other magic. Why not just use your fancy tricks to break it?”

“Assuming I wanted to break Rory’s hold on him,” Sebastian said, looking like the idea was anathema, “I can’t. Rory’s magic has been augmented with one of the relics.”

“Yeah, it has,” Rory said hostilely. “So you just keep your magic to yourself, ’cause it’s not gonna work on Ace again anyway.”

Sebastian glanced between them. “My magic doesn’t work on you. Why wouldn’t it work on Arthur?”

“No reason.” Arthur quickly tossed back the rest of his drink. “I seem to need another whiskey, look at that.”

Sebastian stood. “I’ll get it.”

Rory’s eyes narrowed. “You’re buying Ace’s drinks now?”

Arthur elbowed Rory, offering Sebastian his own society smile. “That would be appreciated.”

As soon as Sebastian was on his way to the bar and out of earshot, Rory muttered, “Smooth bastard.”

“Theodore.”

“He put his magic in your aura, Ace—he might as well’ve stuck his hand down your pants.”

Arthur covered his face with his palm.

“Well, it’s true.” Rory sounded sulky but unrepentant. “And I already know you think he’s handsome.”

Arthur rubbed his temple. At the bar, the pretty girl had stopped making drinks and was leaning across the counter to talk animatedly to Sebastian. He was smiling back, perfectly comfortable with her attention.

Arthur tried to keep his tone soft for Rory. “Sebastian is not attracted to me.”

“Everyone’s attracted to you,” Rory said stubbornly.

“He’s chatting up the barmaid as we speak.”