“What if you kept the gate open? Linking our world to theirs? That might keep time running consistently in both places.”
I couldn’t believe it. He was still talking about it. Fine. He could have that conversation all by himself. “We need to dump the body,” I said, as if the subject of Tumulus had never come up, never existed. In fact, Tumulus was where the Easter Bunny painted his eggs—one big damn fairy tale. “Robin said the river.”
Niko frowned, but it was for himself, not me. He’d brought up something he knew I had problems with—profound, mind-melting problems—and for nothing. But it wasn’t for nothing. He was trying, and right now that’s all we had. Grasping at the thinnest and craziest of straws. I reached over and slapped his stomach with the back of my hand. “Hey, I’m the one not speaking to you, remember?”
The frown faded. “No river. Goodfellow’s since had a better idea while you were showering. Promise needs more time to heal before riding to the river is an option.”
“How is she?” I asked. More importantly, how was Nik when it came to Promise?
“Resting. She’ll be more mobile tomorrow.”
“And will you be staying with her tonight or shacking up in a guest room?” I stood, grabbed my sweatpants from the shower, and wrung them out. “Did you decide if you can live with good enough?”
“I don’t know,” he answered quietly. “Not yet.”
Sophia . . . that bitch hadn’t done too damn well by either one of us. She’d made me a monster and made Niko the brother, father, and caretaker of that bouncing baby monster. She’d screwed us both up so badly, I didn’t think we’d ever get over it. She’d burned on earth and I hoped she was doing the same in hell.
I moved past Nik into the hall and back to my room to dress. He followed. “So what is the plan, then?” I asked, pulling on jeans and a rumpled sweatshirt I fished out of my duffel bag. “Use Samuel again?”
“No.” Niko picked up the damp towels from the floor, wadded them into a tight ball, and hit me precisely in the center of the chest with them. You wouldn’t think cotton could sting. You’d be wrong. “I’m quite sure the Vigil would like nothing more than an up-close look at an Auphe, a nice and tidy autopsy to find out their vulnerabilities. All of which is one step away from dissecting you. They want the Auphe gone, and while Samuel may be willing to give you the benefit of the doubt there, who knows what the rest of the Vigil may have in mind. The less opportunity they have to focus on you, the better.” And while I was human on the outside, the inside wasn’t quite the same. They’d have something to look it. Good times on the autopsy slab.
“No dissections; got it.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, I put on socks. “So what’re we doing with it?”
“Robin called in a favor of his own.”
That favor was at the door as we spoke. Ishiah’s voice carried when he was annoyed, and he was almost always annoyed. This was no exception. As we entered the living room, he was nose to nose with Robin. “Your laziness and sloth know no bounds, do they?” he demanded. “I have a bar to run, my own life to lead. I do not exist solely to be at your beck and call. And I most definitely do not wake up every morning with nothing but the happy expectation of running errands for you. Difficult to believe, I know.”
Robin yawned in his face. “You’re so very good at that. The temper, the scowl. Absolutely terrifying. You must drink shots of testosterone in your morning coffee.” He nudged the oversized garbage bag at his feet. “Here’s the package. Dump it wherever you like. Stuff it and mount it as a souvenir in your bar for all I care. Your choice entirely.”
“It’s not.” The wings flared, appearing from nowhere, and a few feathers flew free. I picked up one as it drifted to the floor by my feet. Between translucent and white with a dusting of gold, it was twice the length of my hand. Robin had Ishiah so frazzled that he was actually molting. The puck was one gifted son of a bitch, I had to give him that. “You are not handing me a bag of Auphe. I know you are not.”
“Think of it as a conversation piece.” Robin grinned lazily. “And I expect you to take it off my bar tab in trade.”
Refusing to believe it, Ish took a step back, bent, and untied the bag. Immediately, the blue-gray eyes darkened in disgust. “Unholy creature.” He retied the bag, then wiped the palms of his hands on his jeans. “One. You actually managed to kill one. You’ve more survival skills than I gave you credit for.” He looked past Robin as he said it . . . to Niko and me.
“I’ve killed Auphe,” Robin said in protest. “In fact, I’ve killed many whilst I saved the entire world last year. Didn’t you get the memo?”
“I’ve always known about your survival skills.” Ishiah picked up the bag with little effort, despite the weight of it. “That’s why history writes of the Last Stand of the Three Hundred, not the Three Hundred and One.”
“Someone had to live to tell the tale. There’d be no heroes if there wasn’t anyone left to talk them up, now, would there?” Goodfellow gave an arrogant tilt of his lips before muttering, “All I wanted was the company of a few hundred half-naked, oiled-up men, and out of nowhere I’m facing the entire Persian army. Where is the luck?”
“I’m certainly getting none my way.” Ishiah headed toward the door. “The next call I expect will request an anecdote for your eulogy. Anything else, and don’t bother.” He put his all in the growl, but as he’d been the one to save Robin’s life days ago, I had a hard time buying it.
Closing the door behind him, I asked Goodfellow, “Did you ever thank him for saving your ass?”
“Gods, no,” he denied, appalled. “That’s not our dynamic.”
“And what would that be?” Niko said. “Rabid annoyance alternating with intense loathing?”
“Exactly.” He yawned again. “One shouldn’t mess with a proven formula. Wake me for my watch.” Yeah, good luck to Nik there, because I had no desire for a dreaming Robin to mistake me for a Spartan, naked or clothed.
Hours later, I was pulling my sentry duty, moving through the apartment quietly. Niko could remain still for hours at a time if he wanted and stay completely alert. Not me. I was a pacer. If I was off watch, I could snooze on the couch with the TV blaring, no problem. But waiting—that wasn’t my strong suit. And staying still after this last Auphe attack? That wasn’t going to happen. So I walked with skin itching and stomach on edge, waiting to feel the tidal pull of a gate opening. I ignored the faint feeling of being watched. After a battle, paranoia and adrenaline went hand in hand. It just came with the territory.
As for trying to anticipate their next move, I couldn’t do it. To give me some credit, I’d been half right about the last one—too bad half wasn’t nearly good enough. But right now, even with the knowledge of a partially new motive on their part, I still couldn’t begin to try. Not yet. Just . . . not yet.
Coward.
As I moved from the kitchen to the living room and down the hall, I saw them. The door was cracked open enough to let me see Niko sitting on the edge of Promise’s bed. I couldn’t make out many details in the dark, but I could see his hand resting on her hair as she slept. Couldn’t live with, couldn’t live without . . . Nik deserved better. A whole helluva lot better. But I couldn’t help him make this decision, just like he hadn’t been able to help me with George. Everybody had that line . . . the one you couldn’t cross. I’d reached mine, which had led to a loss I didn’t know I’d ever get over. Of course, it also led to Delilah, a wolf with benefits. Life—what could you do?
I didn’t know where Nik’s line would take him, but two days down the road, cabin fever was taking us all someplace. “Why the car lot?” I groaned as Promise’s driver pulled up into the lot Robin owned. “It’s not my idea of a good time.” Although at this point I wasn’t sure anything would be a good time. I would be happy if something just took my mind off the Auphe for a while. I’d given myself a night of denial before forcing myself far from the shores of humanity to where only monsters dwelled, thought, and planned.