“Yeah, okay. I’ll call her,” I grumped. “A foot massage would’ve been nice, though.”
When I came back with a paper tucked under my arm and three bags, Robin was awake and Salome was following a homeless man around the parking lot. “Uh… Goodfellow?”
“She’s just playing,” he said dismissively. When he saw that didn’t quite put my mind at ease, he added, “Not serious play. We won’t have to stuff his body in the trunk or anything. What do you have against cats anyway?”
“Nothing… not against live ones that aren’t feline-shaped velociraptors.” I handed him a bag and put mine in the front seat-eminent domain, cat. Suck that up. Squatting rights were over. I also handed Niko a bag. “Plain yogurt, melon, and I bribed them to make you an egg white omelet. They cooked it in butter, but it was the best I could do. And you don’t have to massage my feet.”
“If only I could massage your brain into working,” he muttered, then exhaled, reaching out a hand to rest on top of my head and give me a light, affectionate push. “I apologize. It’s your decision, even if I think it’s an idiotically foolish one.” Nik did know how to make with the esteem boosters.
“Everyone deserves a chance.” Or the few people I liked deserved a chance. The rest of the world… eh. “You taught me that by giving me about seven more than I deserved.”
Before he could comment or give me any more ego-boosting brotherly compliments on my idiocy, a motorcycle rumbled behind me and came to a stop, going silent. “I’ll make sure there’s no problem,” I went on to promise him quietly.
“You talk of me, pretty boy? I cause trouble? Never.”
I’d smelled her over the motorcycle exhaust, but now I turned to see Delilah sitting on a pearl metallic white Harley. The paint almost exactly matched her hair, which was pulled back into a waist- length ponytail. She was wearing white riding leathers too, not to escape road rash. Wolves were too quick. If they crashed, they’d change in midair. If they did break a bone or two, they’d heal quickly in fur form. Delilah just liked to look good and she did look damn good in the leathers. Dark amber-tinted sunglasses hid equally amber eyes.
“I prefer the Godiva look, but it does have a certain superhero slickness to it,” Robin offered as he investigated the contents of his bag.
“Superhero. No fun.” She toed down the kickstand. “Supervillain.” She smiled, her teeth bright against her dark gold skin. “Queen of Wolves. Queen of World.”
“I guess that would make me one of your cabana boys,” I said dryly.
She climbed off the bike in one smooth motion. “Work on stamina; then we see. And dirty talk.” She shook her head with a disappointed clicking of her tongue. “Like Mormon with the dirty talk.”
Goodfellow choked on a bite of waffle. “You?” he coughed. “You’re bad at dirty talk? You said ‘Goddamn it to fucking hell’ in front of that Catholic priest and the two nuns in the restaurant the other day. And you are bad at dirty talk?”
There was a big difference between cursing like five shiploads of sailors and actual sexual dirty talk. “Just choke on the waffle and die already, okay?” I snapped.
“I mean, had I known you were so verbally impaired in the erotic area, I could’ve given you some pointers. Written a few hundred pages of my best lines down for you.” He stabbed another bite of waffle, obviously too entertained to bitch about how beneath him the food was. “I had to help rid you of that crippling virginity of yours, and considering your charming personality and wide variety of fashion-unique T-shirts and jeans, black, black, and more black, don’t think that didn’t take some doing. And now to know I sent an unskilled and untalented worker into my field of expertise, I can barely live with myself.” He pointed an accusing fork and waffle combo at Niko. “He’s your brother. Isn’t all this your responsibility?”
“Don’t I suffer enough?” Niko retorted. “He can easily outshoot any policeman on the New York City Police Department, but he can’t hit a target the size of a small watermelon from less than a foot away? Do you think yellow is actually a paint color I would choose for the bathroom wall behind the toilet if I had any other choice?” he asked with a resigned twitch of his lip.
This would’ve gone on for a while. It had in the past, but Abelia-Roo’s RV rolled up beside us. She stepped out a minute later, which happened to be at the same time Salome, who must have found the homeless guy too boring a prey, jumped up on the trunk of the Eldorado. The old Rom’s eyes, the spray of wrinkles around them deepening in disgust, flickered over us. “A traitor, an unholy half-breed, a goat, and a dog.” She nodded toward Salome. “The dead cat could do better than the four of you combined, I have little doubt.”
“Dog?” Delilah snarled with a genuine rumbling wolf growl. “Withered frog of old woman, will rip your arms and legs like sticks, tear your throat, piss in your foul mouth, then you know Wolf, not dog.”
Abelia shook her dusty black skirt and toyed with the earrings cascading in silvery chandeliers from her drooping earlobes while she flashed toothless gums in a superior smirk. “I have the finest and most special of herbs for a flea bath. Best among all the Rom. I’ll sell to you at the lowest price to be found. My word and my promise.”
And just like that, we were on the verge of a Rom banquet for Delilah while the rest of us ate French toast and omelets-right in the middle of the IHOP parking lot. Not that I had a problem with Delilah eating Abelia-Roo; there were simply better places for it. Canton, Ohio, was not New York. The weird, strange, the out-of-place; it would get noticed here. And we were all three. I got between Delilah and the old woman while Niko ushered our beloved employer back into her Candy Land RV.
“If you want to come with us, you can’t eat her,” I told Delilah, “at least not until after the job is over. Then snacks all around for all I care.”
She bared her teeth, but moved away back to her motorcycle and leaned against it as if Abelia wasn’t worthy of being eaten. Stringy. Maybe spoiled and maggoty in the heat. That settled, I tossed the paper to Niko when he came back to the car. “All ten kids are dead,” I said. Ten kids had been minding their own business. Then a truck drove by, and now those kids were headed six feet under-not to prom; not to homecoming; not to the science fair. They were gone for good. “Abelia tell you anything? How this could happen?”
Niko took his breakfast and started on it, although he didn’t look too enthusiastic. As it turned out, it had less to do with the cooking than with what Abelia-Roo had reluctantly admitted when he’d backed her into a corner. “It seems that our employer will admit the seals she spoke of earlier may be weakening through, of course, no fault of hers-of course,” he repeated, and Niko was not much on repeating himself. “It could only be that the zinc and iron powder she was sold was contaminated. How can she be held responsible for gadje selling chemicals that are inferior, less than pure?” The bite he took of his omelet was smooth and controlled, but if he’d let himself, he would’ve stabbed at the egg angrily. But that wasn’t my brother.
“Suyolak was able to do this shit just because one of Abelia’s subpar seals has the coffin leaking like a rusty hazardous waste barrel?” I asked, not particularly surprised-by Abelia or our luck.
“Now think what he can do if he gets out of the coffin,” Niko offered as he continued carving off pieces of his eggs with careful, controlled motions. “Nearly a thousand years of rage simmered to the sharpest of storming insanity. Damage so catastrophic that the Black Death will look like a forty-eight-hour flu.”