Free Bloodstone by Gillian Philip

‘Pub?’
    Conal straightened, pulling affectionately at the bigger dog’s ear.
    ‘Pub.’

The girl behind the bar was a rangy redhead, hair pulled back to show off her cheekbones. I liked the athletic look of her, and there was a faint hint of sweat on the sharp
line of her collarbone that begged to be licked. Leaving my pint untouched, I felt for the Veil. It was fragile, so frail, and still it stood between us.
    I focused on the right half of her brain, reached out all my senses. There was the shadow of the Veil, lying like dark matter across her perceptions: easy enough to twitch it like the finest of
silk. She saw me. Smiled at me. I smiled right back as her left hemisphere clicked in to process the information. I liked the way she was thinking.
    ‘Hi,’ she said.
    ‘Hi.’
    ‘Can I get you anything?’
    I glanced with amusement at my untouched pint. ‘Not yet. Busy night?’
    She shrugged. ‘Makes the time go faster.’
    ‘Why? What time d’you finish?’
    ‘Soon.’ She gave me a very direct, intense grin, then her gaze flicked up over my shoulder. Her grin grew just that little bit broader.
    I rolled my eyes as Conal sat on the stool next to me, smiling nervously at the redhead. One of these days he’d come back from the loos at what wasn’t exactly the wrong moment.
    ‘Give us some peanuts, love? Please.’
    ‘Salted,’ I added, with my warmest smile.
    As she turned her back to get them, he shot me a glower. ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that.’
    ‘Do what?’
    ‘You played with her head.’
    ‘Look who’s talking.’ I nodded at her, chatting up a roughneck at the other end of the long bar. She’d forgotten not only the peanuts, but the pair of us.
    ‘All I did was take her mind off you. Put things back to normal. Don’t make me have to do that.’
    ‘I hate going out drinking with you.’
    ‘Aye, right.’ He grinned suddenly and clinked his glass against mine. ‘Here’s to the Bloodstone. Which this one
undoubtedly
is.’
    ‘Ha ha.’ I took a long swallow. The beer tasted faintly of sun-toasted heather. Hell, these days anything could make me homesick. ‘And I can’t believe you’re having
a go at me, given what your goddaughter gets up to.’
    His eyes hardened, but they slewed a little away from mine. ‘Leave her be.’
    ‘Leave her be? I told you what she did to that Rooney girl.’
    ‘Shush.’ He glanced at the nearest group of drinkers. ‘That was a one-off.’
    ‘No, Conal. No it wasn’t. You know what it was? It was a
start
.’
    ‘She’ll settle down.’
    ‘No. Not until she understands what she is and why she can do what she does. If it’s not explained to her, she’ll do it again. And again. She can’t control herself, and
though it pains me to admit it, that’s
not her fault.
She doesn’t know what to control. Or why. She’ll turn out a witch, Conal.’
    ‘They don’t burn those any more.’
    ‘No indeed. She’s more likely to hurt somebody else.’
    ‘No. No, she wouldn’t. It’s not in her.’
    I could only stare at him and shake my head.
    He set his glass down so carefully, I knew he was trying not to fling it at me. ‘Look, for the fifty-hundredth time, it’s not up to me. She has a mother and it’s Stella’s
decision. I can’t go against that.’
    ‘You’re her Captain!’
    He gave me a wry look. ‘I don’t think Stella recognises that any more. Do you? Listen, Finn’s got a friend now. That boy sees her better than most. I don’t know why, but
he does.’
    ‘That boy’s a feral thug. And a thief.’
    ‘No. He’s a thief, but he’s not a thug. He’s got a good heart. He’ll be good for Finn.’
    And how could he be so sure? I shook my head, but I left it. ‘You remember what you always told me? We’re inconspicuous, not invisible. We’ll slip from their minds, but only if
we keep our heads down.’ I nodded at the drinkers again. ‘Finn won’t slip from anybody’s mind if she kills somebody.’
    ‘She