"The lying, the cheating, the screwing everything in sight?" I asked with a grin.

"Exactly." He took a bite of eggs, outraged at the thought.

It was hard to imagine the guy with the balls to try and recruit Robin Goodfellow to the straight and narrow. Even harder to imagine why. "He really did seem worried as hell about you," I said again. He'd been angry, but controlled because I hadn't seen his wings as he'd stalked off. There'd been only a pale gray leather jacket, blue shirt, and faded jeans. His blond hair had covered the scar, so it didn't give anything away. Blond hair…but pale, not the more familiar darker shade I'd seen every day of my life. Overcast blue-gray eyes in contrast to pure winter sky, fair skin to Rom olive, an inch or two taller, but …

The realization prickled in the back of my brain, not quite made but worming its way up. Robin liked Niko, a helluva lot. He had chased him relentlessly in the past before Promise showed up. Hell, chased him a little bit after that too. And Ishiah…Ishiah looked like Niko.

No. No, that wasn't it at all. Niko looked like Ishiah.

Robin, already gathering in the creaky workings of my brain, looked me up and down and took in my rumpled clothing for a quick change of subject before I could open my mouth. "Again … in one year? How can you bear the exertion?" he drawled. "Just remember, once you go furry, you never have to worry. Well, technically that's not true. She could transform halfway through and eat you…have a cookie with her nookie. Or worse yet, have you seen those nature channels? Romulus's hairy sac. You could be stuck for hours. Next time be sure to take the crossword, just in case. Or a crowbar and some WD-40."

That effectively ruined my appetite. "I hope your ribs hurt like hell," I grumbled as Niko and Promise appeared in the room. The Ishiah matter wasn't forgotten, but I shoved it on the back burner as Niko had something on his mind. I figured that out when he shoved me in the bathroom, slapped a bar of soap in my hand, a towel over the mirror, and bought that big lie I was still wearing. After the quick shower, he was pushing me out the door past a sweating and swearing cabbie toting what had to be a one-hundred-and-fifty-pound steamer trunk. Poor bastard. Better him than me.

By the time we hit the street, Niko finally spoke. "We need to check on Boggle."

I was actually rather relieved to hear it. I felt…hell, I wasn't sure what I felt. Boggle was a killer and a predator, but we'd gotten her into that mess. If she died because of it … it wasn't a good thought. "Okay. Wanna bring some lollipops for the kiddies?"

"And," he added, ignoring the wiseass remark, "Promise and I have verified Sawney's new 'cave.' "

"Yeah?" I said with grim interest. "Is it in that building?"

"More or less. Under it would be more precise. It was what I'd forgotten reading after all. That building is Buell Hall, the last remaining structure of a former insane asylum as they called it back then."

Oh, Jesus. It made sense. It made perfect sense. The slaughter at the mental institute, his fondness for the more psychologically damaged homeless, his fascination with the taste of Auphe craziness that he was so sure was in me. Sawney was all about insanity…twenty-four-seven. It made absolute goddamn sense he'd hole up in the ruins of an old asylum—as much as I didn't want it to.

But that neat, quaint brick building? It looked like the house of someone's grandmother. Cookies and milk, not electroshock and straitjackets. "You're kidding. Tell me you're kidding," I demanded.

He wasn't kidding. Where Columbia now stood had once been the New York Lunatic Asylum, renamed the Bloomingdale Insane Asylum years later. From 1808 to 1894, it had stood before moving to the New York Hospital in White Plains.

Frigging fascinating.

It wasn't creepy enough that the revenants were ravaging the campus; they and Sawney were also roaming the underremnants of an insane asylum from the eighteen hundreds. In addition to Buell Hall, there was the asylum tunnel system, once used for steam or coal transport, that ran beneath the campus. Tunnel upon tunnel. It would be perfect for getting around the place and popping up like a hellish jack-in-the-box without being seen in transit.

It was the perfect cave.

"It was said to have been quite a beautiful sight in its day. Lovely grounds," Niko said as we walked. I wasn't sure if he was yanking my chain or not, but either way, I didn't bother to hide a shudder.

"Yeah, beautiful. Jesus." Nothing like a brisk walk around the asylum with the loonies to get your day going.

Gray eyes gleamed at my discomfort. "Too many horror movies when you were young have warped your view of the mental health system."

Right. Scary movies when I was a kid, that was the problem. Not that the Auphe as a race were raving homicidal maniacs or that Sawney kept on like I was a lunatic-flavored lollipop. That had nothing to do with it. "So we can get into the tunnels there—at Buell Hall."

"Presumably."

It was getting colder and I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket. Zipping it up wasn't an option, not if I wanted easy access to my holster. "And if we go down there and find his nightmare ass, what then? We haven't had too much luck so far. Guns don't work. Swords don't work. Hell, boggles don't work. Where does that leave us?"

"I've been thinking about that. Extensively." The last of the leaves were beginning to fall in the park and Nik caught one that wafted down in front of him. He turned it over with long, sinewy fingers, then held it up. "What color is it?"

"Red, I guess," I said, having no idea where he was going with this. "With some orange."

"No." He held it up and admired it before letting it drift away. "It's the color of fire."

I got it then. "And Sawney's no fan of fire."

"No. Being burned at the stake will tend to do that." Niko didn't seem too sympathetic. "All we need to do is recreate that."

"Without the army they had the first time," I reminded him.

" 'Weary the path that does not challenge,' " he quoted. "Hosea Ballou."

" 'I like things easy,'  " I countered. "Me. Want to write it down? I can repeat it."

"That won't be necessary. After twenty years, I do believe I have it." He tugged at my ponytail. "I have an idea. One I'm surprised you haven't thought of, but we'll discuss it later."

I looked at him warily. "What are we going to discuss now?"

"I want to talk to you about Delilah and the nymph and the others who'll come after them," he answered, giving one last tug on my hair as the teasing humor faded from his eyes.

All right, I knew we'd had this particular talk with added stick-Auphe figure illustrations when I was ten. Here's Cal. Here's a girl. Here's their flesh-gnawing baby eating the neighbor's dog. I didn't believe Niko was setting up for a repeat performance. I was right.

"You have to be careful." The wind blew at his hair, but it was tightly secured and it barely ruffled.

"You know I am." If anyone knew that, it was Nik. If anyone knew what I'd given up to be careful, it was him…and George.

"That's not what I mean. I know how cautious you are in that respect. I know how much you've given up." There was a strong grip on my shoulder. "I'm talking about the Auphe. They are out there. We haven't seen them in months, but they will be back. There is no escaping that. You need to watch yourself…if I can't be there to do it for you."

There it was, his concern, and it was a valid one. I was on my own more now than I'd been just a year ago. In the past, I was either with my brother or with Robin. Now on occasion I was with those who didn't have the same loyalty to me as my brother, Promise, and Goodfellow did. Would they have my back like those three if the Auphe came for me?