Maitho didn't react. Maybe this was a trap. The situation felt the one in the Cray residence. Except this time, they were in a public place. Maybe that's why nothing had happened to him. Maybe the three people in front of him were trying to take him somewhere alone.
"No, I'm afraid I will not do that," said Maitho.
The curly-haired woman looked amused. "Excuse me?"
"You came to me. So you can start by telling me why. If you don't like it, then there's the door. You can leave anytime."
"Maybe that's a great idea." The woman practically snapped at Maitho.
She stood up to leave but Bevan quickly raised his hands to stall her. "What she meant was that we are very careful in our evaluation methods." He looked at her with pleading eyes and, when he received no supportive response, he turned to Maitho. "Please everyone. Let's take a quick moment to collect ourselves."
After a few seconds of contemplation, the woman sat back down on the seat. She pulled the chair closer to the table this time. She placed one hand on the table and the other on her lap. Maitho noticed that the short-haired woman had moved her hands behind her back.
Bevan quickly began talking, as though he didn't trust anyone to speak friendly. "Meet the leader of this small group, Brigid Danann." He looked at the curly-haired woman. There was a tone of awe in his voice.
Not awe, thought Maitho. Respect.
Silence.
"We are, erm, looking to expand our team," said Bevan.
"What do you know about me?" said Maitho.
"A lot," said Brigid.
"Is it true that Charon told you about me?"
Brigid scoffed. "Yes he did. Although I think he picked your name at random. Maybe he thought you had some use. But that remains to be seen. I believe that the three of us are strong enough to face whatever challenge comes our way. You see, we are efficient Maitho."
"I have been on my own and done fairly well." There was no need to be defensive, but Maitho couldn't help himself. Looking at the amused expression on Brigid's face, he harbored a wild guess that she was enjoying his reactions.
"Luck is not a special ability. Unless, it actually is your special ability. In which case, I can understand why you can get by with lack of skills or talents."
"We barely know each other. So let's reserve judgments for a later time. For not, let's figure out why we are all sitting here."
"Did it take a lot of thinking to come up with that?" A tilt of her head.
"Clearly one of us has to do the thinking, right?"
A slight twitch of the woman's eye. Maitho did not display pleasure in her reaction. He wasn't here to glorify petty victories. What he did not understand was why the woman was goading him into open conflict.
He looked at the short-haired woman leaning against the wall. "And you are?"
"None of your business," said Brigid. For some reason, she didn't want anyone finding out about the remaining member of the team.
The short-haired woman snickered, as though she enjoyed Maitho's predicament. This was slowly starting to get frustrating.
"We are here as friends," said Bevan, attempting to bring a sense of amiability to the conversation. It was clear that he was doing his best to act friendly. The reaction of the remaining two members showed that they definitely were not supportive of Bevan's idea, whatever it was.
"Friends, huh?" said Maitho, giving a half-smile.
Without warning, his hand slipped out of his pocket. The stainless-steel knife was in his hands. His movements were smooth and quick. Within just a couple of seconds, he was pointing the knife at Bevan's throat.
But while he had made his move, the two women had also made theirs. He saw a snub-nosed revolver pointed at him, the hand holding the weapon belonging to Brigid. The short-haired woman had brought her hands in front of her and held a short, but deadly, hunting knife. They both looked like they would like nothing better than to use their weapons.
Bevan was frozen in his seat. He had instinctively raised his hands held in a gesture of surrender as he looked at Maitho with an expression of shock. Whatever ideas he had formed for the meeting, they definitely did not include the situation from going so out of control.
"We are not friends," said Maitho. "I don't know what you guys want, but you don't conduct a conversation with someone by trying to corner them." He looked around the café. "I'm sure you are not willing to use those weapons here in a public space. Plus, I think we have all been caught on cameras right now. So if you are not willing to talk, then get the hell out of here."
Brigid stood up from her seat, tucking the revolver in her jeans and pulling the shirt over it to conceal it. "Thanks for that display. It wasn't impressive. And you are a waste of time."
"Actually, you came to me of your own decision. You wasted your own time Brigid."
"Amateurs. Your attempt to have the last word is your only victory I suppose."
Brigid headed for the door. The short-haired woman pushed herself off the wall and followed her leader, flipping the finger to show the universal sign of insult. Soon, the two women had exited the café, leaving Bevan staring hopelessly after them. He looked at the door for a few seconds, as though his team members would change their minds and reenter the café. When he saw no sign of their return, he faced the table in front of him.
Bevan looked deflated, as though all the joy and confidence had been sucked out of him. His shoulders had folded inwards and his hands were hanging between his knees. Maitho felt sympathy for the young man. He seemed to have good intentions and despite the fact that he was still a stranger, there was no denying that he was putting his every attempt to accomplish his task.
"Join your team Bevan," said Maitho. "I'm sure you will find more people like me out there."
Bevan did not speak. He absent-mindedly touched the muffin, but made no attempt to break off a piece. His eyes moved in their sockets, as though they were searching within him for a spark of inspiration. Maitho waited. He understood what it was like to feel defeated. The least he could do was offer some company until Bevan had collected himself.
"You are the descendant of Olorun, African God of Foresight, aren't you?" Bevan asked, his gaze slowly traveling up and resting on Maitho. His body gradually uncurled itself. It wasn't a big change, but it was enough to not make him look completely hopeless.
If nothing else, the young man's persistence impressed Maitho. With a visible sigh, he began to wonder if he should respond at this point. He still wasn't sure if he should be trusting someone, but maybe he could try to get more information by responding. "I am"
"My team, including me, are the descendants of Celtic gods. Unlike you, we did not start out on our own. I suppose it is because the three of us were all part of the same disaster that could have taken our lives. Did you meet Charon immediately after the incident that was supposed to kill you?"
"I did."
Bevan leaned forward in his chair, his attention more intense and his body straightening itself even more. Words began to flow faster out of his mouth. "There is something going on Maitho. Something that has us all on edge. We tried to deal with it by ourselves, but the more we tried to do something, the more we realized that we were no match for this threat." He paused and took a deep breath. "We were on a job recently. It was supposed to be just like any other job. Find the victim, save them, and get out of there quickly. Simple right?"
His face showed so much eagerness that Maitho could not help but respond with a nod. Smiling as though he was given a reward, he continued. "So everything seemed to go well. Until the time came to rescue the victim. You won't believe it Maitho. But he recognized us. The old man knew our names."
Maitho sat up straight in his chair, a sense of dread flooding his mind. "What did you say?"
Bevan must have misread Maitho's expression as a sign of interest, because he continued to speak, his voice increasing its fervor. "We didn't know what we could do. I mean, we are supposed to remain anonymous right? We are rescuing people who are not aware of the fact that we are rescuing them. They don't even know the danger they are in."
"What about the old man?" asked Maitho, not hiding his impatience.
"Oh yes. That was the weird thing I wanted to mention. Suddenly, he had two people who looked like his bodyguards pointing automatic weapons as us. Fortunately, we left Epona outside to act as a scout." He paused for a split second, squeezing his eyes shut. "My bad. You don't know who Epona is. Well, it's the short-haired lady with the rather deadly blade."
"Got it. Go on."
Bevan smiled, as though he was pleased with the response. Maitho had no idea why. "She was outside while we were doing our rescue thing. She caused a distraction and we escaped from the house. Without her help, I believe we would be lying on a marbled floor with enough bullet holes in our body to make us look like living Swiss cheese."
Maitho realized that he was holding his breath. He exhaled softly and without taking his eyes of Bevan, he asked the question that was on his mind ever since he heard the mention of an old man and his two bodyguards. "Was the old man's name Jonathan Cray?"
Bevan looked like someone had slapped his face. "How did you know that?"
"I think you need to call your team members back. And I mean, right now."