“Seamus’ usual watering hole is a place called Guinness’ out near Chelsea,” Lucky told Celeste once they were out on the street again. “Let’s swing by there and see if we can catch up to him.”

“What’s the plan?” Celeste asked. She hurried alongside him, taking three steps for every one of his and ducking behind him to avoid pedestrians going the other way. She’d learned the hard way on her first day in town that people would plow into her and keep going without stopping if she didn’t get out of their way.

Lucky stopped and turned to her. The oncoming pedestrians broke around him like water breaking around a rock. “What are you doing?”

She looked around in confusion. What did he think she was doing wrong? “Walking?”

He snorted. “Well, you’re doing it wrong.”

“Okay?” She shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve been walking this way my whole life.”

“That’s fine in Elk Fart, where you’re from. But now you’re in the city. You’ve got to walk like you own the sidewalk. Here: let me show you.” He walked back down the sidewalk, turned then walked back to her with purpose.

When he reached her, he spread his hands in front of him as if to say: well?

“You look like you’re on your way to commit murder.” Celeste looked him up and down. “Those are definite murder vibes.”

He looked thoughtful. “Not today.”

“Seamus’ usual watering hole is a place called Guinness’ out near Chelsea,” Lucky told Celeste once they were out on the street again. “Let’s swing by there and see if we can catch up to him.”

“What’s the plan?” Celeste asked. She hurried alongside him, taking three steps for every one of his and ducking behind him to avoid pedestrians going the other way. She’d learned the hard way on her first day in town that people would plow into her and keep going without stopping if she didn’t get out of their way.

Lucky stopped and turned to her. The oncoming pedestrians broke around him like water breaking around a rock. “What are you doing?”

She looked around in confusion. What did he think she was doing wrong? “Walking?”

He snorted. “Well, you’re doing it wrong.”

“Okay?” She shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve been walking this way my whole life.”

“That’s fine in Elk Fart, where you’re from. But now you’re in the city. You’ve got to walk like you own the sidewalk. Here: let me show you.” He walked back down the sidewalk, turned then walked back to her with purpose.

When he reached her, he spread his hands in front of him as if to say: well?

“You look like you’re on your way to commit murder.” Celeste looked him up and down. “Those are definite murder vibes.”

He looked thoughtful. “Not today.”

“You’re joking,” Celeste rolled her eyes. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Well, I am a werewolf, so it’s never off the table.”

“Is that why so many of your customers were cops?”

“I mean, not officially.” Lucky chucked her on the shoulder. “With Seamus, it probably won’t come to that.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you probably want it to be.”

“Sorry, kid.” He winced. “Back to walking. You do have a point. People will get out of your way if you look dangerous. So think about murder as you walk.”

“I’m a foot shorter than you. I don’t think it’s quite the same.”

Lucky made a sweeping motion with his right hand. “Just try it.”

She walked up the sidewalk, turned and made an exaggerated shrug in his direction. He grinned and gave her a very dad-like thumbs-up. Or what she assumed would be dad-like… on a normal dad, unlike hers.

She shook away that thought.

Okay, murder. She took a deep breath, puffed out her chest and stalked toward Lucky. Murder. To her surprise, she slipped into a loose-limbed confident stride.

Around her, pedestrians stepped aside to make way.

She grinned when she reached Lucky. “Whadda you know? It worked!”

“Of course it did,” Lucky said. “Just keep thinking murder while you’re flushing Seamus out.”

“When I, what the what?” Celeste stopped in her tracks.

“That’s the plan,” Lucky said. “You go in the front door and confront Seamus. I’ll hide in the alley and hit him with Scaevola’s mojo when he does a runner.”

“Why am I the one scaring him? You’re six-six with an eye patch!”

“Yeah, but you have an awesome murder strut, kid!” Lucky grinned. “It would be a shame to waste it.”

Celeste palmed her forehead. “You set me up. I’m such a sucker!”

“A sucker who is going to flush out that leprechaun, now let’s go!”