Trail of Lightning (The Sixth World #1)(66)

He laughs and shakes his head. “No, nothing like that. Although . . .” He licks a finger and reaches forward, as if to touch my face. I rear back, hand going for my knife.

Color drains from his cheeks. “I was just going to wipe that silver stuff off your eyes. It’s a little too disco, even for me.”

I flush, embarrassed, and drop my hand. “Sorry,” I say, rubbing my bare arms. “Didn’t mean anything. I don’t like to be touched,” I offer weakly.

“S’okay,” he says. “I thought for sure I was going to lose a kidney sooner than this for giving you bangs.”

I frown. “Ha ha.”

“I respect your skills, but you got a rep, girl,” he says as he leans his back against the bar and takes a sip of his beer. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

“As a psychopath?”

“That’s a little strong. Let’s go with violent and antisocial.” Clive’s smiling when he says it, but it still stings.

“Like that’s a surprise,” he says at the look on my face. His eyes move across the crowd. “So someone had to touch you long enough to put that on your eyes. Who was the lucky soul?”

“Who do you think?” I don’t tell him it’s not for show, but instead serves a more practical purpose. Kai wanted to hide the medicine from Coyote. Maybe Clive doesn’t need to know either.

“Where is that gorgeous man of yours anyway?” Clive asks, still scanning the room.

“Not sure,” I admit. “He took off without me. Said he had something he had to do.”

He blinks long ginger lashes. “That doesn’t sound good.”

I shrug. “He’s a grown man.”

“Yes he is,” Clive says, voice appreciative. He laughs when he sees my look of surprise. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to steal your man. But just for the record, you do know he danced with me last night.”

“You danced with Kai?”

“More than once. And he’s not bad. Although, I still can’t believe he’s a medicine man.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, shouldn’t there be a rule against medicine men being that damn sexy?”

I agree, but say, “If it’s any consolation, he hasn’t finished his training.”

“You saw the same thing I did in Rock Springs,” he says, suddenly serious, all the joking familiarity of a moment ago gone. He takes a sip of beer before he continues. “Anyway, any luck finding this clue the Coyote told you about?”

“Not yet,” I admit, happy to change the subject.

“Anything I can do to help?”

I narrow my eyes, suddenly suspicious. “You never did tell me why you were here, Clive.”

“Oh, some clients at the All-American said there was going to be a fight here tonight. Some kind of epic grudge match. I thought it might be worth checking out. And since you guys were here anyway, I thought I could help out.”

“The Shalimar hosts fights?”

“Every once in a while. It’s usually a pretty good show.”

I look around the room, but I can’t imagine where a fighting arena might be hiding. Through one of the flat two-dimensional doors, down a rabbit hole with no bottom, through a wardrobe. “What is this place?”

“Good question,” Clive says. “Nobody really knows. It appears and disappears on its own schedule. Sometimes it’s here, other times . . .” He makes an exploding gesture with one hand. “Guess that’s what happens when your establishment is run by a cat.”

“Does Kai know? About the fights, I mean.”

“No idea. But you can ask him.” He throws a nod toward the crowd and I see Kai headed back our way.



“I found out the Shalimar is hosting a fight night tonight,” Kai says. He seems normal enough again, no signs of inebriation. I hadn’t thought about it before, but his healing powers must counter the effects of the alcohol. Whatever Kai’s trying to drown doesn’t stay drowned for long. “Tournament fights to begin with,” he says, “but there’s a mystery billing on the last fight. Rumors of a legendary grudge match.”

“Heard the same,” Clive agrees. “Lots of money to be won if you can make book.”

The fights are interesting, but gambling doesn’t appeal to me. That’s more Ma’ii’s domain, with its impossible odds and the potential for double-crossing. And then I remember what the doorman said about high rollers. “Clive, is there a resident bookmaker here? Someone who runs all the bets? Hosts the fights?”

“Yeah,” he confirms.

“Would her name be Mósí?”

“That cat I was talking about. Yeah.” He narrows his hazel eyes. “I thought you said you’d never been here before.”

“It’s got to be her,” I say.

“What are you thinking, Mags?” Kai asks, wary.

“I’m good in a fight,” I say. And it’s true. I don’t have any fancy martial arts skills, but Neizghání didn’t neglect my hand-to-hand, either. My technique is more down and dirty—strike fast, hit hard, and get out. Add my fighting skills to my clan powers and I have no doubt I can hold my own for a few rounds. That should be enough to get the attention of the Shalimar’s resident bookmaker.