The gray eyes narrowed with haughty question. "Did you see me by the warehouse?"
"No," I admitted ruefully. "Big surprise."
"Then how do you know I was there?"
"The same way I know Goodfellow's staring at your ass. It's a law of nature. Can't be changed."
Niko glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing further. Not bothering to look innocent, Robin shrugged and gave an unrepentant and utterly wicked grin as he continued to work his way through the lasagna. Turning back to me, Nik said, "I waited as long as was necessary."
Until he had seen me… undamaged and in one piece. And if he'd seen me, he would've seen Cerberus. They'd come out of the office this time into the warehouse proper. The office was good-sized, but for true bodily destruction you really needed room to work. "You saw them, then," I said quietly.
"Only glimpses through one poorly boarded-up window, but… yes, I saw Cerebus." As a rule, Niko took most things in stride. As far as I could tell, Niko had been born unflappable. Very little impressed him: the Auphe trying to destroy the world, Abbagor… a creature almost beyond description, and a homicidally possessed brother—it was a short list. Short, but I think Cerberus had just made it.
As impressions went, he'd definitely made one on me. To take Fenrik down he'd gone completely wolf. Only Cerberus's wolf was nothing like any other wolf I'd seen. I could see why the Kin had given him a chance; they hadn't had much choice.
"So?" A green gaze flickered between my brother and me. "You saw a wolf. Cerberus is simply another bad-tempered Kin bastard, or bastards as the case may be. Why the long faces?" The garlic bread was waved in casual punctuation. "A swat of the muzzle with a newspaper and you go your merry way."
"Yeahhh. I'll let you do the swatting, Loman." Fenrik hadn't bowed to certain death. Like any good wolf he'd gone down fighting. Fangs, jaws like a bear trap, incredible speed, and still he'd been nothing to Cerberus. Less than nothing. It could have been over in seconds, but where would be the lesson for the rest of us there? Cerberus in human form was impressive; Cerberus as wolf was… dread. Pure and simple. And having had my fill of dread for the night, I changed the subject. "Where's Promise?" I asked curiously. It wasn't like her to sit on the sidelines for very long.
"Still researching the crown with little luck. You're to meet her tomorrow for breakfast and she'll tell you what she's discovered."
"Make her pay," Goodfellow added with pointed annoyance. "I have yet to see my split from the poker game." Leaving the now-empty plate behind, he slid off the bed smoothly until he was forced to put weight on his injured leg. Straightening his charcoal pinstriped jacket and running a hand over the short brown waves of his hair, he limped toward the door. "I have another appointment," he said in farewell. "Watch the first flush, Caliban. I would hate for you to blow off anything of importance."
I made a mental note to check what exactly the puck had taped to the back of the toilet before I went to sleep. It sounded… interesting. As the door shut behind him, I tilted back in the chair. "Where's he going?"
"To watch over George's family. We've been doing our best to keep an eye on them when we can."
"Oh." I let the chair's front legs hit the floor and rubbed the back of my neck. "How are they doing?"
"Much the same as us," Niko said gravely.
"That good, huh?" I murmured to myself.
A hand gave me a light shove out of the chair and pushed the dirty discarded plate into my hand. "Make yourself useful. I don't think you want to see what this will attract in the middle of the night." As I scrubbed over the bathroom sink, we discussed what my next move should be. Niko agreed with me that it wasn't likely that the succubus would know any more than Flay did, but he pointed out we couldn't afford to overlook any potential source of information.
"I should've asked Goodfellow for pointers before he left," I said glumly.
"Talk with Promise instead," Niko suggested. "She may know a way to interrogate your new friend that won't involve a jealous Cerberus castrating you."
"Always a plus." I grimaced. The alarm clock flickered red in the corner of my eye, reminding me that time was ticking away. It had been almost a week since George had disappeared. Six days. In the real world, it was barely a week. In our world, it was more than long enough to pass from the world.
Chapter 11
The next morning I was waiting in the diner, resting my head facedown on a Formica table. It was a good position for me and I was embracing it thoroughly when a hand skimmed lightly over my hair. I knew who it was. I'd smelled her unique scent the moment she'd opened the door to the diner. Promise.
"I thought I was the night dweller." There was the whisper of a kiss against my jaw. "Not sleeping well, little brother?"
Apparently I was being adopted. More family who could kick my ass; love does take some curious forms. "Little?" I yawned hoarsely, straightening and rubbing the bristle I hadn't bothered to shave. "Bigger than you."
"Certainly you are," she said solemnly, patting the back of my hand lightly. "Big and strong and ever so brave."
"Yeah, that's me all over. I got here a little early and decided to put my head down. It wasn't as if I were napping or anything." Yet. Belatedly I remembered to stand. She gave me a gracious smile that ignored my defensiveness, and sat in the cheap plastic chair. The diner was practically a fishbowl, the front all glass, and Promise kept on her cloak. She seemed to have an endless supply of them; I guessed all vampires did. At least all the ones that didn't want to end up in a burn unit. This one was the same deep brown as the glossy streaks in her hair. The hood shadowed her ivory pale face, but not her eyes. Warmly glowing and heather purple, they rested on me with patient assessment.
"I hear I'm to advise you on how to win a woman's heart without annoying the love of her life, the captain of her heart and mate of her soul." Tiny fangs were revealed with the curve of her lips. "More precisely, her meal ticket."
If anyone would be qualified in the subject, it would be Promise. And I didn't mean that in a derogatory way. I had no idea what had gone on with her and her husbands—her many, many husbands—but I did know Promise well enough now to know that she would've been honest with them. Not honest about being a vampire, let's be realistic. But she would've been honest about her emotions, about what she offered and what she expected. Although I had the feeling Promise's expectations were high. Very high.
"Yeah, well…" I tried for a grin, but I could feel the humorless stretch of it. "I haven't had much experience with girls. You know, other than trying to kill them."
"The two aren't as different as you might think." She patted my hand again and picked up a menu. "Now, tell me, before we discuss the way to a succubus's heart, do they have anything here that is as delicious as your pancakes?"
There wasn't a hint of dimple in that smooth cheek, but the high arch of a delicate brow had me scowling suspiciously. "In your dreams," I muttered as I reached for my own laminated list of heart attack specials. "I am the pancake king."
There was no comment. A very tactful no comment.
After a careful study, Promise decided to go the safe route with a muffin and glass of orange juice. Coward. I ordered the bacon grease special. Bacon, eggs fried in bacon grease, and fried potatoes with bacon and onions. I took a runny yellow bite of egg and a forkful of potatoes, then ignored the rest for a cup of lethally strong and pathologically bitter coffee. Promise sipped orange juice from a squat, ugly glass, treating it as if it were the finest crystal. Blotting her lips delicately with a napkin, she encouraged, "Eat, Caliban. You're not doing anyone any favors by starving."