Unraveling Secrets (The Secret Trilogy) by Lana Williams

men sitting on the opposite side of him.
    These two were a little easier to read. By the look of their dark auras and the sidelong glances they cast the woman serving them, Stephen surmised they intended to take mor e than she was willing to give.
    He touched the lapel of his jacket, and Farley nodded in response. Those two would be watched carefully. Stephen guessed they ’d try to accost the woman when she left the tavern after closing. Either he or Farley would remain to make sure the men behaved themselves.
    He and Farley had developed their signals over the course of time. Farley wore an old suit and adjusted his accent to match the harsh neighborhood, looking more like a clerk than the manager of a successful gaming hell.
    While Farley was an expert boxer, Stephen preferred savate, a French street fighting technique that allowed for kicking in addition to punching. On the rough streets of the East End, Stephen needed all the advantages he could get.
    He ’d met Farley at a local tavern almost seven years ago and, after realizing they had mutual interests, had soon worked out a business arrangement to their satisfaction. Farley had his own reasons for helping Stephen. His youngest sister had been accosted and brutally beaten on her way home from her job at the tea factory when Farley was only sixteen. Since then, Farley had learned to fight and had taken the law into his own hands more than once.
    He ’d worked with Stephen for over a fortnight before finally questioning his method of routing out those who truly intended harm. Rather than being shocked when Stephen had reluctantly explained, Farley had been fascinated. That had been the one and only time Stephen had confided his ability to anyone. The feeling of vulnerability was not something he cared to repeat.
    The evening passed as the tavern ’s customers came and left, but the two men who watched the serving woman remained. The red-haired man and the others at his table left as well, taking their volatile argument over forming a union with them. Stephen hoped the man’s dark aura had more to do with his worry over unfair working conditions than any foul intent.
    A young man with blond hair and blue eyes caught Stephen ’s attention, his aura dark and heavy. At Stephen’s sign, Farley befriended the man.
    “ Ye look like yer in need of another pint. Let me buy one for ye,” Farley offered with a smile.
    The young man looked at him suspiciously. “What ’s it to ye?”
    “Nothin ’. Just being friendly is all.” Farley signaled to the barkeep for another ale. He retrieved it from the chipped mahogany bar and slid it in front of the man before turning away.
    It never paid to act too anxious to hear someone else ’s troubles as it roused suspicion. The man stared at the pint for a few moments before taking a long drink. Then he rose to stand at Farley’s table. “Thank ye.”
    “Think nothin ’ of it. Have a seat.” Farley shoved back an extra chair at his table. “I saw the craziest thing down by the dock this morn.”
    Before long, Farley had him laughing at his ridiculous story involv ing a dog chasing a flock of geese only to turn tail and run when one of the geese decided to return the chase. As he drank a second pint, the young man shared the reason for his foul mood. He’d just been fired from his job.
    “I was thinkin ’ about paying the bastard back for lettin’ me go. Got a wife and babe to care fer.” He stared morosely at his drink.
    “Aw, don ’t be doing something that wouldn’t make yer young one proud,” Farley said. “Another job will come along.”
    “Not bloody likely. I’ve searched everywhere I can think of.”
    “You go talk to Watford at the warehouse on Sharp Street. He might have something for you,” Farley offered.
    Stephen hid a smile at the hope that lit the young man’s face. At least one problem had been averted tonight.
    He shifted his attention to the other tables around him. Over the course of the