I woke up to the smell of doughnuts and fresh coffee. Someone else had to be in the apartment. Refined sugar and caffeine? Niko would sooner chop off a hand. I thought about taking a shower before investigating, but decided that for all of us who'd spent days shut up with Flay, I was smelling like a rose in comparison.
Returned as promised, our musky companion himself sat at the kitchen table proving that wolf did not live by red meat alone. He had a gallon-sized cup in one hand and a bear claw nearly as big as his head in the other. Niko, nursing a steaming tea and dry toast, was watching with critical eye as sticky pecans rained onto the floor. I sat down and helped myself to one of the gooey pastries from the box resting on the table. My body welcomed the sugar rush with gratitude. "All quiet last night?" I asked Niko around the mouthful.
"All quiet," he confirmed.
Swallowing, I moved on to Flay. "You actually parked Goodfellow's bachelor pad on wheels downstairs?"
"No." He drained about half the coffee in one long gulp. "Decide keep it. For Slay and me. New home. Travel… leave this place."
"Lone wolf and cub, eh?" I took another bite and said thickly, "You know that's not Goodfellow's to give, right? He borrowed it."
Flay shrugged, showing little interest in Robin's business affairs. He was still wearing the baseball hat he'd picked up in Florida. It didn't make him look any less deadly. "Mine now."
And who was I to argue with that? My body was craving more carb- and sugar-induced energy and I was reaching for a second bun when the phone rang. Niko had it in hand before I managed to drop the bear claw. I couldn't deny a sliver of craven relief that he reached it before me. George was only a girl I knew, no more and no less, but I didn't want to hear her pain. Not again. My sticky fingers clutched the edge of the table until the metal bit into my flesh. No, not again.
Niko placed the receiver to his ear and his face hardened instantly. He listened for several minutes before saying remotely, "I understand." He then hung up the phone with a violence that was so carefully restrained, it said volumes.
"Caleb." I didn't bother to phrase it as a question.
"Caleb," he verified tightly. "We meet tonight."
"Did you talk to… ?" I didn't finish, instead prying my fingers from the table and wiping the syrup on my sweats with studious attention.
"No. I didn't think it wise to push."
"You're probably right." He would have to keep her alive, wouldn't he? He wouldn't be able to transfer her psychic abilities if she were… if she weren't alive. I wiped harder. The goddamn syrup wouldn't come off—as hard as I scrubbed. I stood jerkily with an anger far out of proportion to the situation and moved to the sink. Squirting dish detergent into my skin, I scoured my hands. "Where's the meet?" I asked deliberately.
"At that werewolf club, the one he pointed us toward for Boaz. I suppose he thinks he'll have a better chance if we're surrounded by those who don't precisely love us."
He was right. The clientele there didn't care for humans, Auphe hybrids, or Kin traitors. We'd have to be on our guard against not only Caleb but every other living creature in the building as well. "Gee, a challenge," I commented with a darkly false cheer, watching the water wash over my skin. "I hope I have enough hardware to make it interesting for them. You have any more of those explosive rounds like you gave me for the bodach?"
"I was saving it for your birthday," he responded wryly, "but, yes, I have a few boxes."
"You're better than Santa Claus." I dried my hands and held on to the subject with something close to desperation. "What are you bringing to the party, Snowball?"
Both arms and hands grew larger, bunching with muscle, hair lengthening to a pelt, as Flay raised a fist and punched four-inch talons through the wood of the table. The piece of furniture shivered and threatened to fold up like wet cardboard. "Elegant in its simplicity." Niko nodded as we both looked under the table to play peekaboo with at least three inches of claw. "Inexpensive and you can take it through a metal detector."
I leaned on one end, stabilizing it as Flay pulled free. He took a large chunk of the wood with him. "And this is why we buy the cheap stuff." I shook my head. It was all a good attempt at distraction and naturally it didn't work worth shit. Giving it up, I asked somberly, "You'll make the calls?"
"I'll notify Promise and Goodfellow," Niko verified. "Go ahead and start gathering your weapons. Tonight will come sooner than you think."
I wasn't sure which to hope for: that he was right and it would fly by or that he was wrong and it would creep. Either way, we were headed toward an uncertain ending and I didn't know if I wanted to race toward it or drag my feet every step of the way. If only I could know what would happen—if only I could see… but I couldn't.
I wasn't the psychic one.
Chapter 19
It flew.
The day was a blur, running on feet that scarcely touched the ground. I should've taken it as a sign. Good things take forever to come. Bad ones chase you down with a speed that leaves cheetahs in the dust.
I was pulling on a black T-shirt when Promise came to the door of my bedroom. It stood ajar, but she gave a discreetly soft knock regardless. I grunted and she chose to translate that as "Come in." Anyone else, I think, would've interpreted it along the lines of "Stay the hell out and mind your own damn business." But, as I'd noticed many times before, Promise wasn't just anyone.
"Caliban, I have something for you."
"Really?" I slipped on the holster and filled it with an Eagle loaded with explosive rounds and the bodach knife, as it was now permanently labeled in my brain. "A happy ending maybe? I'd pay some big bucks to see one of those."
She wilted my sarcasm instantly with what she had coiled on her palm. Coming up beside me, she held out her cupped hand. In it was copper hair, woven into a tiny plait.
I took a step back in silent denial.
She snagged my arm with her other hand and held me still without mercy. "I know you're quite good at running, little brother, but before you do so again I want you to think on something." Her grip tightened. "Georgina wasn't chosen because of you. It's far more likely that you were chosen because of her. Caleb needed a psychic, and Georgina is the sun among the lesser stars when it comes to talent. That you and Niko have a different talent of your own, one that would help you find one of the crowns, was but a fortunate bonus to him." Her hand traveled down my arm to my wrist. "You didn't get her into this, Caliban. Try to remember that."
My wrist was then tugged toward her and she deftly tied the delicate twist of red hair around it. She said in a voice true and firm, "To keep close to your heart what you're fighting for."
I touched it with a hesitant finger, then exhaled and dropped my hand. Grabbing a long-sleeved gray shirt off my bed, I shrugged into it, leaving it unbuttoned, over the T-shirt. I'd chosen it to cover the shoulder holster, but it would cover something else as well. I pulled the sleeve down over my wrist. I didn't have to see the bracelet, but I couldn't do anything about the feel of it against my skin. As hard as I was working to keep her far, George kept creeping back. Stubborn for a girl who wasn't even here.