Cat watched Loc place a couple of hundred-dollar bills in the little case that held their check and let out a mental sigh of relief. Except for that scare about the grimoires — which turned out to be nothing, after all — the meal had gone smoothly enough. No one had bothered them, tucked away at their secluded table, and Loc had asked her more questions about fiber arts in general, and her own work in particular. She figured that was because he wanted to make sure he could lie plausibly on the subject if asked, and maybe also because he could tell that talking about the grimoires or his search for someone who could send him home upset her on some level, in a small, secret place in her soul that she really didn’t want to acknowledge.
Now all they had to do was walk back to the car, get in,
