Lachlan pushed away from the counter. “Magnus told me about Pope doing that, but seeing it”—he shook his head as he headed to the door—“bloody wild.” He waved for her to join them after he opened the door for them. They exchanged greetings, obviously having met but not knowing each other well. She downed the rest of her ale and set the glass on the counter with a thud. Bubbles tingled along her upper lip, and she wiped them off with the back of her hand. She walked over to the group, wondering if it was trepidation or all the carbonation that filled her chest. One man had Native American looks, with dark wavy hair that fell to his shoulders. The other also had brown hair, though his was thick and roughly cut, his eyes a beautiful violet blue. Lachlan gestured to her. “What is she?” The Native American’s thick eyebrow arched. “Is she a specimen?” It seemed to take Lachlan a moment to realize he had bypassed manners. He gestured to her. “This is Jessie, Magnus’s girl, and I need to know if she’s an Offspring.”
