3

“A speargun? A goddamn speargun?”

“You’ve said that five times now, little brother. I don’t think it’s going to change with repetition.” Niko had laid the two metal spears on our kitchen table to examine them. “It’s rather an ingenious weapon for fighting nonhumans . . . if it weren’t for the ammunition difficulties.”

“Yeah, they’re a little larger than crossbow quarrels. Hard to haul around. Good for a couple of bad guys; not so much for more,” I said. I was examining something myself—the hole in Niko’s coat. “You’re sure they weren’t trying to kill you?” Trying to kill him while Robin and I had been making our way through the crowd. Fast, but not fast enough. Goddamnit.

Promise’s driver had dropped Robin, then us off after our less-than-successful job. Promise went home with her wolves. Robin went home alone. Promise was one helluva fighter, but while she’d been around centuries, Goodfellow had been around almost as long as the Auphe. If push came to shove, he had enough millennia of weapons practice to take either Niko or me, maybe both at once . . . if he were sober. If any of us could handle the Auphe, it would be him . . . especially in his home territory. Although he damn sure would sooner avoid it if he could.

And while it was now two thirty in the morning in our own home territory, I was too wired to sleep. “You’re sure?” I repeated, sticking my finger through the hole in the gray cloth. If it wasn’t bad enough the Auphe were back, now someone had tried to spear Nik like a goddamn sea bass. Jesus.

“Yes. They had the opportunity and they didn’t take it.” He was sitting on a kitchen chair with hands folded across his stomach. “Which is quite curious. I think . . .” He frowned. “I think we’re going to have to do something neither one of us is going to like.”

“Oh, Christ, what?” I asked apprehensively. If Nik didn’t think we were going to like it, I really wasn’t going to like it. It’d be up there with a Drano enema.

He stood. “Think about it. I’m sure it will come to you. Do you want first watch?”

When we thought we’d lost the Auphe while running or when we thought the Auphe were gone for good, we hadn’t kept watch. Now here we were, the bad old times again. “Yeah, no way I’ll sleep yet.” I continued to fiddle with his duster until he pulled it from my hands.

“We have enough to occupy our minds.” He pinched the nerve right above my elbow. There was that tough love again. “No what-ifs, understand?”

“Fine. Jeez.” I rubbed my arm. “I’ll let your dry cleaner worry about it.”

“Good,” he nodded. “If you get bored, try reading a book instead of making paper airplanes out of the pages.”

“What? You’re not going to grill me about the park? About how they were all female? We’re not going to go over that for hours and hours until I try to skin you with a butter knife?” I asked, surprised. I’d been waiting for the discussion all day. I’d seen that unrelenting look in his eye. What had changed since then?

“No,” he paused, then shook his head. “I want to think about it first. And I’m familiar with your record of noticing details in any given situation.”

“Pathetic?” I freely admitted.

“Nonexistent,” he corrected. “Read a comic book or color if you can’t handle that. There are crayons in the desk drawer.” He disappeared down the hall to his bedroom. Crayons. Smart-ass bastard.

Naturally, I skipped any of his suggestions and went straight to why he didn’t want me thinking about the Auphe. What was that about? What happened to two heads are better than one? And you couldn’t say anyone knew more about the Auphe than I did, personally anyway. I might not be detail oriented, but those details were part of my genetic code. I couldn’t avoid them if I wanted. What was Nik up to? After contemplating that long enough to make me bat-shit crazy and getting nowhere, I distracted myself by thinking about what Niko had said before that.

With Seamus’s case—spearguns and all—what were we going to have to do that neither of us would like? It took me nearly half an hour to figure it out. And he was right.

I didn’t like it one damn bit.

I surprised myself by sleeping for a few hours after Nik took over. I’d learned to do that on the run, no matter how scared or emotionally screwed, you had to sleep or you couldn’t function. You couldn’t run from the Auphe if you can’t run at all. When I woke up and staggered down the hall in a T-shirt and pair of sweatpants to the living area, the first thing I said was, “No fucking way.”

Niko was already dressed and doing his morning katas with his sword in the living room. “Figured it out, did you?”

Yeah, I had, and there was no way. “Wahanket tried to kill us last time.” Wahanket, an informant also known as Hank when he wasn’t trying to kill us, lived in the basement of the Metropolitan Museum. It was a good place for a walking, talking mummy with a fondness for cowboy hats.

“No, he tried to kill you, although I’m sure he would’ve gotten around to the rest of us if you hadn’t taken his hand off.” He gave a quick movement of his blade, a flick to rid it of imaginary blood. “Besides, Goodfellow’s informants always try to kill us. It’s tradition.” He whirled, and I dodged the swipe of the katana. “Unfortunately,” he continued, nodding in approval at my footwork, “only the more homicidal of snitches have anything worthwhile to say.”

“Great.” I went over to the fridge and stuck my head in. There was Nik’s carrot juice, wheat-free bagels, cottage cheese, some sort of soy thing, and my week-old Chinese. I took the Chinese. “You know he makes mummy rats? Undead bony things running around.” I made a face as I stuck a fork in the cardboard container. “Can you imagine what else is down there? Gah.” I took a bite and chewed. “Then again, I could get to blow another piece off of him. There’s a plus.”

“No explosive rounds this time.” He sheathed his sword with the proper respect. “I don’t think Sangrida would appreciate that, considering all the artifacts down there. Best to stick with your Glock. No Desert Eagle.” Sangrida was a Valkyrie and the museum director. It probably wouldn’t do to piss her off. If the myths were true, she’d dragged many a warrior kicking and screaming off to Valhalla. And if the myths weren’t true, she was strong enough to take a cab from the museum curb and beat us to death with it. She was definitely tall and muscular enough to.

“If we go, and I don’t think we should.” I took another bite, considered the odd taste of the chicken, shrugged, and went on. Food poisoning was the least of my concerns. Assuming I could even get it. I never had, and I’d eaten things five seconds away from growing penicillin. “The hell with Seamus and his money. He’s not worth that kind of grief. And I don’t want to be a mummy. I definitely don’t want a certain part of me mummified. It’s just now getting some action.”

“Yes, yes, your sexual exploits aside . . . there were the whole two of them, yes?” he asked with mock curiosity. He didn’t wait for an answer and ignored my glare. “Those aside, we can’t assume this is only about Seamus. It seems odd someone would follow a vampire only to watch him. If they don’t want to kill him or me, what do they want? I don’t think this is just about him.”

“And you’re doing it for Promise.” I finished the carton and dumped it in the garbage.

“Yes. If this is about all vampires, I’d like to know as soon as possible.” He didn’t say he could go see Wahanket without me. He knew better than that.

“Okay. We’ll go.” I sighed and scratched my ass absently. “Should we take Robin?”

“I don’t know. What does the Magic 8 Ball that is your ass say?” he asked dryly.

We took Robin without any input from my ass, thanks for asking.