I hadn’t had gum in ages. For whatever reason, that was one of the first things cleaned out of stores and convenience shops. “Yeah, please.”

She broke it in half, tearing through the paper, and handed one to me. I popped it into my mouth, which watered at the sweet bite of sugar and peppermint. “Man, that’s good.”

She grinned. “Isn’t it, though? Found a pack about a week ago. I’ve been rationing.”

“I appreciate it.”

Liam rose. “We should go. It’s getting late, and it’s been a long day.”

“Lot of those going around these days.” Lizzie hopped off the desk, took a step closer. “There’s a lot of talk, Liam. The Paras are getting nervous.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Something feels different.”

“The Veil?”

“Could be,” she said. “Hard to say in here. We can’t actually use our magic to find anything out. But there’s something in the air. Something coming. And it’s big.”

He nodded. “Keep an eye out. You know how to get word to me.”

“I do. Stay safe out there.”

“I try my best.”

“Nice to meet you, Claire Connolly. You be careful, too.”

I nodded, and we walked outside, closed the door behind us.

“They let a Para work at the clinic?” I asked.

“As long as she swears not to do magic.” He crossed his heart. “She knows the Beyond, was a healer there. Can do the same work here. She’s good people.”

“She seems like good people. Why are you trying to sell her to me?”

“Because she’s a Para,” he said. “I’m just trying to broaden your horizons.”

Paras didn’t lie to me, I thought, but kept the words to myself.

“Let’s go to my place,” Liam said.

My heart actually fluttered. “To your place?”

“That granola bar didn’t do anything for me. You hungry?”

If he had any mixed feelings about my going back to his place, he didn’t show them.

This couldn’t be a good idea. Not when I was already so close to the edge.

•   •   •

A black cat sat outside Liam’s door when we reached the building. I decided I wasn’t superstitious, especially when he scratched it behind the ears, and it pressed upward into his hand.

“You have a cat?”

“No,” he said as the cat trotted away, presumably looking for greener pastures. “It’s a neighborhood cat, I think. I see her every few weeks. I’m pretty sure she thinks she’s a guard.”

“Cats do their own thing,” I agreed.

We walked inside, up the stairs, into his apartment.

“I’m gonna change my shirt,” he said. “You want to make us a drink? There’s some ice in the fridge.”

Maybe coming here hadn’t been the best idea, but I wasn’t going to turn down a drink right now. Not after the day we’d both had. I walked around the bar, checked out the stock. Rum, bourbon, vodka, rye. A small bottle of bitters, a bottle of Herbsaint. That led to only one conclusion.

I glanced back at him. “Sazeracs?”

He looked impressed by the offer. “Go for it,” he said, then disappeared into the bedroom.

I found two glasses, poured in a splash of Herbsaint, swirled it, drained the rest into the sink. It tasted like licorice, and a little went a long way.

I left the glasses on the counter, took a silver shaker to the small refrigerator tucked into the kitchenette at the other end of the room. There was a plastic bin in the small freezer bay that held a block of ice, some of it already chunked into pieces. Functioning electricity at its best. I tossed a couple into the shaker, closed the door again, and stood up.