Union Tavern doesn’t really have a parking lot. There’re spaces out front, on the street, and a few in the back alley for staff. But those are strictly monitored, and Howie’s uncle Lonnie doesn’t play nice with anyone who dares to snag one. So when he told me to pull Sadie’s car around back when we talked earlier, I was a little nervous. Now that I’m actually doing it, I feel like I’m breaking all sorts of rules. It’s exhilarating in a way, or maybe that’s just the anticipation of seeing her face when she realizes I’m her mechanic.
I slide out of the front seat, bending so I don’t hit my forehead on the way out. It’s a sedan, but it feels like it was made for people much smaller than I am. I round the vehicle, locking the car with the button on the fob, and head toward the back door. Itswings open when I’m only a few feet away, and Howie marches out.
"Everything turn out okay?"
I hold the keys up. "I drove here just fine, so I’d say so."
Howie runs a hand through his red hair and paces. "So, two things." His face twists before turning pale. "She doesn’t know you fixed the car. I sorta thought you’d enjoy delivering that message after… well, after your face. Oh, and I think she’s been cursed."
I lean against the brick wall next to the door, confused and a little thankful. I don’t know what about Sadie is so interesting to me, but I’m looking forward to sparring with her again.
"Cursed? Like because she has bad luck?"
Howie’s eyes nearly double in size. "No, Max. Like how Olive was cursed."
That makes me laugh. There’s no way. I saw both of her arms just yesterday, and she was completely tattoo-free. Olive had a changing tattoo that displayed her emotions. I wouldn’t have missed that. Also, I know Irina left after everything went down. Sam personally searched every inch of this town looking for her after he and Olive reconnected. He was on a mission to make sure nothing like that ever happened again—even if it helped him find his future wife.
"I’m serious, Max." He crosses his arms, tension radiating off him. "She has this book, and when she wrote in the answer to one of the clues earlier, the pencil lead turned gold. Like magically."
"Yeah, okay. But that might just be one of those color-changing papers. You know, like we used to get invisible ink pens at the book fair."
"I never did." Howie's voice is low, a grumble mixed with a whisper.
"You know what I mean. There’s an explanation."
"Did you know she has sisters?"
"The Mal girl, yeah?"
"No, Irina." Howie starts to pace again. "Beth and Josephine, from 1793."
The diner I’ve been going to my entire life is run by a witch’s sisters? I find that hard to believe, yet it’s shockingly not the craziest thing I’ve heard this year. I feel like there would have been signs. Wouldn't we have seen her there?
"Let’s say that’s true. Is the color-changing ink the thing that’s wrong with Sadie? The reason she came home?"
He hangs his head. "No. But she should be the one to decide if she wants to share what’s going on. Sadie is private. I can’t cross that line."
"But you will tell me she’s been cursed by a witch?" I raise an eyebrow at him. That seems a bit backward.
"She doesn’t really believe in magic. I mean, she knows it’s weird, and the things that have happened are unexplainable. She’s not as closed off to it as your brother was, but she’s in denial. I had to tell someone who’s lived it, or at least knows it’s real." Howie blows out a deep breath. "I helped keep a secret the last time. I can’t do it by myself, especially when I work so much these days. Lonnie barely lets me out of here. She might need help."
I walk up to him and pat him on the shoulder. "I got you, bud. If she needs help, I’m available. But I think we need to let her decide if she wantsmyhelp. I’ve already committed a carjacking… I can’t exactly run in there and start talking about her being hexed."
I push past Howie, jingling the keys so he understands where I’m headed, and pull open the back door. As I walk inside, I can tell it’s busy, especially for a Monday night. There’s a Gators game on, and from the T.V. screen it appears that Liam Montgomery, their star shortstop, just threw someone out fromdeep in the hole. Scanning the bar, I spot Sadie sitting with a bubbly blonde in one of the back booths.
Babs, one of the regular bartenders, pushes past me with a tray full of drinks. "Hey, Max. Snagged this for ya when you walked in." She slides a bottle of lager into my palm before continuing to a rowdy table near the front. I tip the beer to my lips, letting the smooth and tangy taste coat my throat while I continue my trek.
"Hey, ladies." I halt near the edge of Sadie’s booth. "Girls' night on a Monday?"
"Max…" My name rolls off Sadie’s tongue as the other woman smirks. "I’m so sorry about your fa—"
"What’s wrong with my face? Did I cut myself shaving or something?"
The blonde one laughs, but Sadie rolls her eyes. "Jesus, Sadie. You told me you head-butted him, but it looks like you beat the shit out of him." The other woman’s face gives away everything she’s thinking—her eyes bulge and her cheeks turn pink.
"I’m tough, and I hear the ladies love a man with battle scars." I can’t help myself. A smile tips my lips up. "But that’s not really why I’m here." I hold the keys up, dangling them above the table.
"How did you get those?" Sadie’s eyes are now the ones doubled in size.