Cut and Run 7 - Touch and Geaux

feel about you. Remember that, if nothing else.”
    Ty left it at that, turning away from Zane to take one of the glasses. They were specially made for preparing absinthe; thick and heavy, with a wide mouth and a small reservoir in the stem. They were quite beautiful, as drinking glasses went. Ava pulled three ornate spoons from the wooden box and set them on the bar.
    The silence stretched thin. Ty had tried every avenue. He’d explained himself, pleaded, reasoned with Zane, and professed his love over and over. None of it had made a dent in Zane’s armor. Ty peered sideways at Zane. There wasn’t much else he could do, and Zane seemed just as willing to toss it all away now as he had earlier. “This is the part where I drink and don’t give a damn if it bothers you,” he whispered. “Feel free to look away.”
    Zane’s lip curled and he narrowed his eyes. “No need to be concerned about me. Maybe a stiff drink will settle your nerves.”
    “My, my,” Ava said. “I see that gris-gris is working already.”
    Ty snorted. He didn’t know if it was the gris-gris, but he and this town sure as hell were cursed.
    “Thank you for throwing the cheap glasses instead of these,” Ava said as she poured a reservoir full of light green liquid into each glass. The bottle was labeled Vieux Pontarlier. It was the very best absinthe you could buy, made exactly the same way it had been two hundred years before and imported from France.
    He knew Zane had delved into all manner of chemicals, legal and illegal. He wasn’t sure absinthe had made it to the Miami scene, though, and he wasn’t sure Zane would know what Ava was doing.
    Zane glanced from the spoons to the dark bottle she set on the bar, then back to Ty for a moment. He looked suspicious, as if he thought Ty was about to do something dangerous or illegal.
    There was a completely mistaken aura surrounding absinthe as that of a mysterious, addictive, mind-altering substance, giving it a gothic horror sort of taboo. It was all completely unfounded, of course. It was just about the only thing Ty could drink while on the job, because while absinthe did get you drunk, it also made you unusually lucid, creating the illusion of a waking dream. He functioned well. It was all he had drunk for nearly two years while undercover.
    He set the spoon on his glass, making sure the special lip underneath caught the edge of the glass to keep it in place. Then he plucked a sugar cube from the bowl Ava had set down and placed it on the center of the spoon.
    Ava turned to fill a pitcher with water.
    “What is this?” Zane finally asked, sounding annoyed to have to ask.
    “Absinthe. The real stuff, not the tourist trade.”
    Zane frowned but didn’t say anything. Ty didn’t try to set any of his preconceptions straight.
    “We’d sit and do this every night,” Ava told Zane as she returned with the pitcher full of ice water. “You should try it.”
    “Garrett’s got poor impulse control. Don’t you, Garrett? Has to stay away from the cocktails.” Ty poured the water out over his sugar cube. The water and dissolving sugar mixed with the green absinthe below, turning it a weak, milky green.
    “That’s right,” Zane snarled. “Maybe you should learn a thing or two about it.”
    Ty removed the spoon, shaking his head.
    “Every night after we sang, we’d go sit in that corner there, pour a glass of la fée verte , and laissez les bon temps rouler ,” Ava told Zane with a hint of bittersweet irony. She leaned her elbows on the bar and took a sip of her drink. “And every Saturday night,” she continued, voice lower, growing huskier, “we would pick a plaything to join us. You would have been chosen, no doubt.”
    “He was,” Ty muttered.
    After what felt like a drawn-out moment of silence, Zane said, “Let the good times roll, huh?”
    Ty focused on his drink, watching the green liquid swirl and mix. “When in Rome.”
    “Rome wasn’t the only thing that burned in a day,” Zane replied evenly.
    Ty met his eyes for a long moment, for the first time seeing distrust in them. He lowered his head, closing his eyes, then took a drink.
    Ava reached beneath the bar again and pulled out a little homemade voodoo doll, made with sticks and a piece of burlap. The eyes had been drawn on, and the hair was bundled sage. She set it on the bar.
    “What’s this?” Ty reached for it, recognizing the ring around its neck. It was his, one he’d thought he’d lost years ago.