"Too late," the bartender murmured.

The dancer on stage was a consummate professional who didn't even stumble in her choreography at the outburst, though a few of the customers glanced our way.

Levi-as-Gavriella was crowded up against the bar by a guy who made Miles look slight. Every inch of him was covered in tattoos. He even had horns tattooed on his forehead. The knuckles on his hands read "your next."

"Got something to say for yourself, bitch?" Stevie said. ...