The Rom's eyes flickered from one side to the other, then back to me. "Then Abelia-Roo will curse the pecker right off your body."
I moved the knife from his throat to insert the tip in his nose. "Probably, but how much comfort will that be to you after I cut your nose from your face? Or maybe your ears." I considered for a few seconds as I idly twisted my wrist. A tiny trickle of blood began to creep from his nostril over his lip. "Or maybe—just maybe—I'll take it all. Nose, ears, eyes, tongue." I gave him a consoling smile. "I'll leave the mustache. You seem very proud of it."
I felt him twitch beneath me, but his face remained unmoving and stoic. Like I said, he was tough. But were his people gathered around us as tough? Some might be, but there were bound to be others with slightly weaker stomachs or softer hearts. Someone would break… sooner or later. I pulled the knife back and said truthfully, "It's nothing personal, Branje. Try and keep that in mind." This time the blade found his ear. He had large, fleshy lobes. I could take half off and he'd still have enough to spare. The first drop of blood had appeared when a voice stopped me.
"Now, here is one who knows how to negotiate." There was the approving smack of Abelia-Roo's toothless gums. "Now, here is a man."
If you only knew, I thought with dark amusement before my emotion shifted to cautious surprise. This wasn't the surrender I'd been shooting for. This was Grandma having balls to put all ours to shame and a shriveled soul to match mine. I looked up to see her duck under Niko's blade as if it were a garland of flowers. Arthritic knees popping like gunshots, she crouched beside Branje and me. "You want the Calabassa, do you?" Brown eyes flecked with gold and black nestled in the midst of tissue-paper skin folded into hundreds of wrinkles.
"I'm sure as hell not here to spread around my plastic surgery skills." I kept Branje pinned to the ground as I wiped the scant amount of blood from the metal onto my jeans and then sheathed the knife.
"Do you have any idea of the crown's purpose?" From the avidly gleeful flush in her face, I had a feeling it was nothing good.
"Granny," I said, "I couldn't give a shit if I tried."
Chapter 17
I should've given a shit, and Abelia-Roo was more than happy to gloat over every detail that told me why I should. I'd thought the crown had looked too drab and plain to be your typical bauble. I was right. The Bassa had made that innocuous bit of metal for a reason—a very dark and infinitely practical reason. They'd created a thief… or a tool for a thief. Wear the crown and take from a person anything you wished. Their life, their knowledge… their power. I doubted Caleb needed any help taking lives or was interested in any extra smarts. He thought he was as clever as they fucking came.
But power… that was a different matter entirely. Take away the first two and it's the only option left. He wanted the ability to take someone's power… their gift. Although it couldn't be as easy as all that. Not many creatures in the world had talents he might envy. What could he want? What did he covet so profoundly that would be worth this much trouble—oh. God, I was stupid. So damn stupid.
There had been more unpleasant information dancing on the tip of the old Rom's tongue, I could tell as I'd cursed my idiocy, but at the last second she decided to keep it to herself. For fun or profit, and since she wasn't haggling for even more money, I was guessing it was pure, malicious fun. Granny had a way about her; she damn sure did.
"So he wants Georgina's gift." Niko held the circlet up to the dimly flickering firelight after I shared my grim thought. "He could see whatever he wanted. Know the future, the past, and all that lay between. It makes sense; what Georgina has is invaluable." He exhaled and shook his head. "But it also complicates things to no end."
"How?" I demanded. "It's not as if we planned on letting Caleb walk away in the first place. The second we have him in our sights, we give him the crown." I watched the fire reflect sinuously in the curve of the metal. "Promptly followed by a bullet to the brain."
"I have a feeling it won't be quite that simple."
Through the drifting smoke I saw that across the campsite Goodfellow was handing over two duffel bags of cash to Branje. Abelia-Roo didn't waste any time muscling him aside to unzip them and count their contents with flashing fingers. Both Promise and Robin had contributed to the Calabassa fund, since Niko and I barely had two nickels to rub together. The price wasn't that of a small country… quite, but it was damn close. "No?" I looked back at the crown and frowned. Ugly goddamn thing. "Then I guess we'll just have to make it that simple."
"Easier said than done." Between one breath and the next Niko had crossed the six feet between us. He was closer than close and as angry as I'd seen him. Scratch that. He was furious… with me, and that I had never seen. "Nothing is simple at the moment, not with your recent moronic behavior. What the hell were you doing with Branje?"
"Is that why you're pissed?" My frown deepened. "Hell, Cyrano, it was your idea. Rip off his mustache and feed it to him, you said. I just picked different things to slice and dice is all."
"Cal, you cannot go off without thought, without reason…" He tilted his head down until his eyes were level with mine, utterly pissed off and completely inescapable. "Without backup."
"You watched my back," I pointed out with what I thought to be fairly evident logic. "You were right there, same as always." Same as always… you always remember the words that come back to bite you in the ass, no matter how much you'd like to forget them.
"I could've been there more quickly if you'd bothered to let me know what was going through your head." His free hand fisted in the collar of my shirt. "Branje isn't much of a threat; you could've handled him before you could crawl, but if you try that imbecilic recklessness on someone else, someone along the lines of Abbagor or Cerberus or worse yet the Auphe, they will put you in your grave. Is that what you want?" He shook me, hard enough that I felt the snap of it in my neck. "Is it?"
It was a fair question, and denying that would be a lie. George was gone, the Auphe were back, and things had long spiraled out of control. But as selfish as I was, even I had my limits. I couldn't do that to my brother, no more than he could've done it to me. "No, Nik," I answered soberly. "It's not what I want."
The fury, a masquerade for something much starker, drained away as quickly as it had come. "All right, then." He exhaled and released my shirt. "Let's not have this conversation again."
I looked down at my shirt, then stuck my finger through the new Niko-fashioned rip and said wryly, "I'll try and keep that in mind."
He gave one abrupt nod and ordered, "Do that." Then, letting the issue go, he went on, "Let's eat. We've been invited to dinner by Abelia-Roo. I think…" Reluctant amusement tweaked his lips upward. "I think she may have her eye on Goodfellow. She might find him less than a man when it comes to haggling, but apparently that isn't the only standard of measurement she uses."
She should be grateful she wasn't around when Robin had "haggled" with a succubus. That may have changed her mind about his manhood damn quick. "Sounds entertaining." And a few weeks ago, I would've paid good money for that kind of entertainment, but now… I looked up at the sky. It was moonless and clear; I could see hundreds, thousands of stars and every fiery blink was a second lost. "But we need to go. We don't have much time."
"We have time to eat, to relax—even if only for an hour." His hand reached for mine and folded my fingers around the Calabassa. "Besides, it will maintain a little goodwill with the Sarzo. We might need their help again someday."