Free Bitter Night by Diana Pharaoh Francis Page A

Her brows rose. “Satisfied?”

    Oz touched his fingers to his lips. His eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed. He shook his head. “Hardly.”

    She shrugged and sat back down, returning to her food. “I was afraid of that. I’m a bad kisser.”

    “That’s not what I meant,” he protested.

    “But you weren’t satisfied. How disappointing for you.”

    Niko chortled. Akemi was simply staring, her mouth open.

    “You’re just screwing with me now,” Oz said.

    Max shook her head. “And risk being judged unsatisfactory again? Oh, no. My ego isn’t that strong. I’ll leave screwing you to others.”

    His hand flashed out and grasped hers. He pulled it to his lips, waiting until she met his gaze. “One day, you’re going to take me seriously.”

    She smiled, tugging her hand back. “I always take you seriously, Oz.”

    Magpie brought out more food, and the rest of the meal passed in pleasant ribbing. Max was more comfortable than she had ever been, and Akemi even loosened up enough to tease Niko about his love of designer clothing.

    “It’s a little silly in our line of work, don’t you think?” she said softly, cutting her steak into precise cubes.

    Niko smoothed a hand over his dark blue polo shirt. “What else am I going to spend my money on? And don’t I look great in Dolce and Gabbana? It’s made of bamboo. Looks like silk, washes like cotton. Blood comes right out of it. Women love me in it.”

    Akemi rolled her eyes and Max chuckled. “You’re the most fashionable man in Montana. The grizzlies and elk have never been so impressed. Besides, wouldn’t you rather women love you out of it?”

    Before he could answer, Max’s phone chirped its high-pitched ring. Oz’s followed in quick succession. His played the Miss Gulch theme from The Wizard of Oz. Max grinned at him, flipping open her phone. It was a text message.

    Trouble. Come now.

    Before she could think about what kind of trouble, Max had leaped over the table and down the stairs to the floor of the warehouse, Oz hot on her heels. Max flung open the door of Giselle’s RV and climbed the stairs in two lunging steps.

    Giselle flung her phone against the wall as they entered. She turned, her expression taut. “Alton is on his way.”

    “You told him where we are?” Oz asked in a flat voice that did little to hide his fury. Away from the covenstead their wards were not nearly as strong, making them far more vulnerable. Secrecy protected them from attacks, and Giselle had thrown it away.

    “He’s Horngate’s oldest ally,” she said. “And he can’t reach Old Home. There’s not been a word since last night.”

    Old Home was Alton’s covenstead, a postage-stamp-size territory in the lush old-growth forests of northern Idaho.

    “Did he scry?” Max asked with a frown. There should be no good reason a covenstead didn’t answer.

    Giselle shook her head. “He’s too worked up. He’s asking for our help.” She looked at Oz. “Go guide him in. He can bring in his Spear Prime, but no one else. He also removes his personal wards.”

    Oz nodded. “I’ll have my Spears close the perimeter. No one else will come through after him.”

    “Good. Go now.”

    He departed and Max eyed Giselle. With a mental twist, she forced aside her antipathy for the witch, focusing instead on the threat. “You really think this is an attack? You and Alton have been allies for a decade.”

    The witch shook her head. “I don’t know what to think. But something is wrong. I can feel it. I can’t treat him like an enemy’what if Old Home is in trouble? But we’re vulnerable here, and he’s the only one I might tell where we are, and only for something as dire as this. If he or somebody wanted to attack me, there would be no better way and no better time. I can’t ignore the possibility. All the same, Max, he is an ally. Be as careful as you can without being too obvious.”

    “You’re warded?” Max asked.

    “I am, though if