Careful consideration had gone into that last word, more than enough to let me know it wasn't the one Robin had used. "Less catastrophically paranoid" or something similar had more of a Goodfellow flavor to it. Sprawling back in my chair, I linked my hands across my stomach and admitted ruefully, "It was in the water with me." It was the knife I was referring to. It was a mess of bodach blood, the same as me, and if I couldn't get it clean, it would have to be tossed. It was a nice rational reason and only partly a lie. I didn't go anywhere unarmed anymore. Not to eat my morning cereal, not even to take a leak. I'd been careful before, with the Auphe as ever-present pursuers, but now… after their happy little subcontractor had taken me over lock, stock, and every single molecule, I made being constantly prepared my religion. And I embraced it as wholeheartedly as any Southern-fried Bible thumper ever whelped.
Darkling, a nightmare for hire and the last of his kind, had moved into me… had become me—combining us into one malevolent whole. What I would never have done for the Auphe, he did. We did. This had been no movie possession. There was no lurking in the back of my mind, no wringing my hands over the big bad things Darkling was doing. There was no me to lurk. What he had done, I had done. What he had enjoyed, I had enjoyed. Who he had killed… you get the picture. We were one. And if you survive something like that, you're lucky that the least crazy label they slap on you is "catastrophically paranoid."
"Did it come clean?" was Niko's only comment, and I was grateful for the restraint. I knew the malevolent little shit was gone. After all, I'd sliced and diced him myself, but knowing and knowing aren't always the same. I, along with my howling subconscious, would eventually figure it out, but it was going to take a little time.
"Yeah, the crap comes off metal a damn sight easier than skin." My eyelids fell to half-mast as I watched him clean away the supplies from the table. I was tired. It had been a long night, a long, god-awful bitch of a night. "Weren't you supposed to see Promise tonight?" Promise, an ex-client of Niko's old agency, was Niko's lady of the moment. Hell, she was his only true lady past, present, and probably future… even if neither of them knew it yet. Considering she was a partner in our new agency as well as a vampire, things would be a bit on the delicate side, but I had faith. When you saw them together, both with the same inner stillness and unwavering purpose to them, you knew. They were made for each other and no one else. And if they wanted to call the late dinners they'd been having "financial planning for the agency," who was I to pop their bubble of clueless denial? They would figure it out, sooner or later.
"Not tonight." He laid the gun before me with a sardonic bow and mocking eyes the same gray as mine. "I'm so exhausted from doing your work I think I'll stay in."
As acting went, it was one of Niko's better efforts, but as I couldn't fool him, neither could he fool me. I didn't try to push him on his way, however. That would be the equivalent of my head against his brick wall. After what I'd seen tonight, my brother wasn't going to leave me to spend the night alone. Honestly, although I'd never admit it aloud, I was grateful. "Yeah, yeah. Working your fingers to the bone." I stood and yawned. "I'll fix you a waffle in the morning. That'll make us even." Picking up the gun, I headed back to the bedroom. The bed was soft, the blankets were warm, and the apartment was cool. All good sensations. But when I closed my eyes all I felt was metal and blood. All I heard was twisted rhymes and the laughter of a killer. And all I smelled was death and a little girl's shampoo.
I was up before the sun. As events went, that was pretty spectacular. To mark the occasion I decided to actually keep my word to Niko and make him breakfast. Twenty minutes later I was stirring pancake batter with my nose stuck to the directions on the back of the box. I could slay monsters with the best of them, but cooking usually managed to turn the tables on me in culinary smackdowns that left the kitchen unusable for days. This time I was holding my own… barely. I was sliding the last of the pancakes, the uncharred ones, onto a plate when the intercom buzzed. Six a.m., that meant it couldn't be Goodfellow… unless he hadn't gone to bed yet. He was as lazy a bastard as I was. Curious, I pressed the button. "Yeah?"
Minutes later Promise was gracing a kitchen chair. The contrast between her and the cheap plastic made my eyes want to cross that early in the morning. Promise had recently changed her look. Her mink brown hair was now exotically tiger striped and rich brown alternated with equally wide chunks of palest blond, worn in a braid that reminded me oddly of Amazons. Her formerly tasteful but sedate clothing had been replaced by a black tank top, matching leather pants, and high-heeled boots. Still tasteful, but damn sure not sedate. The ivory skin and twilight purple eyes were the same, as was the wide curve of her unpainted mouth.
"Your Majesty." I put a plate before her. Catching a whiff of pineapple and coconut, I raised my eyebrows. "Sunblock?"
She tapped a pink-and-white-polished nail on the hooded cape that rested in her lap and gave a dismissive flutter of fingers, indicating it didn't always do the job. "I freckle so terribly," she said gravely. Another popular misconception about vampires… they didn't burst into flame in direct sunlight. They would, however, end up with the equivalent of third-degree burns that took quite some time to heal. It wasn't pretty or pleasant, and it was definitely a step or two beyond freckling.
I grinned. I liked Promise. I liked her for herself, but I would've liked her for Niko's sake if nothing else. He'd given up any chance at a normal life to keep me safe. Now that the Auphe were history, ugly, hateful history, I wanted him to have a chance at what he'd missed while we'd been on the run. "Wouldn't want that," I agreed solemnly before ladling two scoops of half-melted chocolate and butterscotch chips on top of her pancakes. "Syrup?"
She regarded the brown and yellow swirl and then me with a gentle uplifting of her lips. "I bow to your expertise, master chef." And well she should. All those fancy restaurants she ate at had nothing on me on the rare occasion I managed to pull off pancakes. As I gave her a generous dollop of syrup, she asked, "Shouldn't you wake Niko? I know he wouldn't want to miss your excellent efforts."
"He's awake." I dumped some liquid chips on top of my own pancakes, then licked the spoon.
"Really?" She cut the smallest possible bite and lifted it on her fork.
"Yeah." I took a real bite and chewed with enthusiasm. It wasn't often I had full-on breakfast food. Along with the martial arts, Niko had picked up the whole body-is-a-temple philosophy. He lived, breathed, and worshipped at its dry, tasteless altar. Soy milk, egg white omelets, organic fruit, no thanks. I'd take my dry Sugar Crunch any day of the week. "He either heard me fixing breakfast or the buzzer. One of the two. The man has the ears of a b—er… cat." Hastily, I shoved another bite in my mouth before my size eleven gave me an embarrassing case of athlete's tonsils. After swallowing I finished, "He's just doing his usual morning routine, sitting there staring at the wall like a lobotomy victim."
"It's called meditation, Cal," Niko said from behind me. "It helps me survive the daily trials and tribulations of a lazy, smart-mouthed younger brother."
"He's cleaning up his language for you, Promise." I pushed another plate in front of Niko and loaded him up. "If that's not love, I don't know what is." Ignoring the needle-sharp glare aimed at me, I added, "Breakfast as pledged. Now, eat up."
He didn't want to. Sugar, oil, butter—he probably would've made the sign of the cross if not for the company we were keeping this morning. Still, he recognized the pile of syrup and chocolate for what it was… my thanks for his sticking around last night. Sighing, he bowed to the inevitable and dug in, his bite every bit as small as Promise's had been. The whole world seemed to be on the same diet. Well, the hell with them, it just meant more for me. Stacking the last of the pancakes on my plate, I moved over to the living room couch and turned on the TV. It wasn't precisely privacy, but it was the best I could do for Niko and Promise. Our new apartment was actually smaller than our last, but it was a helluva lot nicer with decadent luxuries like heat and hot water. Our last place, sandwiched firmly between a dump and a slum, had been all but destroyed when the Auphe had come for me that last time. Not only had we bitten the deposit on that one; we were probably on a warrant list somewhere. It didn't matter. We hadn't used genuine ID since we'd hit the city. We still didn't. A quirk of Niko's there. The Auphe might be deader than the dodo, but there was no telling when it might prove to our advantage to be invisible to the eye of the authorities.