Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

When Eliza said we’d hang out and talk tonight, I assumed she meant at the house or maybe even a coffee house, even though she doesn’t drink coffee. I didn’t expect to be sitting at a table at the back of Taproom again, waiting for her to find time to come over as she tends the bar.

Which is fine, actually. This place is familiar, and I cast a circle around myself to keep people from coming over and talking to me. Lucas is in the basement torturing Dina, and I’ve been debating if I should go down and join him.

He’s probably more effective without me there. And sitting here by myself, I get to hold my feather.

“I’ve officially lost it,” I whisper to myself and put the feather in my purse before I start calling it my precious. I open the internet on my phone and do another search to see if any articles have been written yet about the headless body. Is murder so common here in Chicago this guy doesn’t even get a mention?

“We can talk now.” Eliza sits down across from me