It took us half an hour to settle Runa down. In the end, Mom gave her a sleeping pill. Runa took it with her tea and then fell asleep at the kitchen table. Bern carried her to her room. Leon took Ragnar and two beers to the Hut of Evil to check out his gaming setup. I hadn’t seen Heart. He was definitely around, supervising, examining the lay of the land, and giving orders, and Mom had spoken to him. I would see him tomorrow. The last thing he needed right now was me underfoot.
Shadow had acted like I was gone for a century. She stood on her hind legs and scratched at my thigh. She made small, happy doggy noises and wagged her tail so much, it was a wonder it didn’t break off. She also trailed me wherever I went. I had gotten Lawrence’s bones out of the car, put them into a plastic bin, and carried the bin into the motor pool, and she’d managed to trip me twice.
Grandma Frida turned at our approach. Her eyes narrowed. “Girl, you’re all beat up.”
I’d counted on everyone being too busy to notice. Leave it to Grandma to zero in on my scratches like a homing missile. “It’s just torn clothes.”
Grandma Frida raised her finger and pointed. “Laceration. Abrasion. Puncture. Several punctures. Chunk of hair missing.”
I dropped the bin and grabbed my hair. “Where?”
Grandma reached out and touched the left side of my head. “Right there. You’re bleeding and you look like you’ve gone through a shredder.” She wrinkled her nose and sniffed. “And you stink like accelerant and smoke. Has your mother seen you?”
“Mom has her hands full. I’ll just take a shower . . .”
“Take off that rag and sit.” Grandma Frida pointed to a stool.
I dropped the torn trench coat to the floor and sat. Grandma Frida took one look at me and reached for the first aid kit.
There were times in life when alcohol really hurt.
“Actually, it’s been proven—ow—that treating wounds with—ow—rubbing alcohol slows the healing. A saline wash is so much better. Ow, ow, ow!”
“Saline wash is for your eyes. Alcohol is for getting arcane goo out of holes in your skin. Be a big girl and deal.”
Ow.
By the time I told her the story and my wounds were treated, it felt like I had no skin left. Or rather I had skin, but it was on fire.
“Where’s your Italian now?”
“In the old fire station building. He isn’t mine.”
Grandma Frida chuckled. “I think boatneck.”
“What?”
“For your wedding dress. It would be very flattering on you.”
“Grandma!”
Grandma Frida rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “I never canceled my subscription to Brides magazine.”
I jumped off the stool. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to this.”
Grandma Frida hugged me. The familiar scent of engine oil and gunpowder enveloped me.
“You’re doing great, sweetheart. I know you think nobody notices, but we all do. You go take that shower now.”
I hugged her back and went to the door.
“What do you want me to do with your bin?” She pointed at Lawrence’s plastic coffin.
“Could you lock it in the cage for safekeeping. Don’t open it.”
“Will do,” Grandma promised.
I snuck upstairs into my room before my mom also noticed my punctures, went to the bathroom, stripped off my torn clothes, and stepped into the shower. I didn’t even look at myself in the mirror. The sharp sting of open cuts let me know exactly where I was hurt.
Shadow assumed a devoted vigil outside the shower door.
The hot water hit me, sending a fresh pulse of pain through my wounds. I cried out and cringed. Body wash was going to suck.
Gobs of translucent bug ichor splatted on to the tiles of the shower floor. I reached up and touched my hair. It was like sticking my fingers into half-set Jell-O. Ugh. I poured way too much shampoo into my hand and started working it into my hair.
Tomorrow I would have to meet with Heart and figure out how much our new security was going to cost us and where we were going to get the money for it. I had a pretty good idea of how to get some quick cash for the deposit but I knew Grandma Frida wasn’t going to like it.
Finally, the water ran clear. I stepped out, smelling of lemon and lavender, dried my hair with a towel, and carefully wrapped another big, soft, fluffy white towel around myself. I only whimpered twice as I did it. I was a big girl and I dealt.
My dog was gone. Well, her devotion was short-lived.
I dragged my brush through my hair. It got stuck. Great. This would take a while.
I walked out of the bathroom, keeping my movements small to prevent the towel from rubbing me too much and trying to not rip all my hair out with my brush.
Alessandro lay on my bed, petting Shadow.
I squeaked and hurled the brush at his head.
He snatched it out of the air. “Stop throwing things at me.”
“Stop being in my room. Stop being on my bed. I’m wearing a towel!” And why had I just pointed that out?
He took a slow look from my feet all the way to my eyes. “Yes, you are.”
All of my thoughts derailed. My body recalled how it felt to be held by him in every vivid detail. Safe, and warm, and exciting. His carved chest under my cheek, his washboard stomach, the heat of his body, his arms around me . . .
I clamped the towel to my chest and pointed at the window. “Get out.”
He sat up, unhurried, confident, like a big cat stretching, and got up to his feet. If I could have recorded it in slow motion and then posted it online, I’d break Instagram.
“We need to decide what to do about Linus Duncan,” he said.
“We have to tell him,” I said. “His life might be in danger. Also, he might have a reasonably good idea why Diatheke is trying to kill him.”
“Do you think he’ll answer our questions?”
“I don’t know. He’s sort of a family friend, so he might. I’ll call him first thing tomorrow. Alessandro, do you know who Magdalene is?”
“No.”
“More for tomorrow.”
He was looking at me like he was thinking of stealing my towel. And I wanted him to.
No. Bad idea. Really, really bad idea.
A hint of a smile played at his lips. He looked evil. “What are you thinking right now?”
“Nothing.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Thinking about wearing nothing?”
“Out.”
Alessandro sighed. “I’m so tired. Are you sure I can’t just rest right here? I promise to behave. Unless you don’t want me to.”
Yes. No!
“Alessandro,” I pronounced each word as firmly as I could. “Leave my room. My mother has informed Heart that you are permitted on the premises, so there is no reason for you to hide here. You won’t get shot or evicted.”
“You think that’s why I’m here? You think I’m afraid of your new army?”
“I think you enjoy mocking me, why I have no idea. Don’t mistake Heart for Abarca. These are the people who take down Primes.”
He bared his teeth. “Now you’ve made it into a challenge.”
I met his stare. “Are you really contemplating killing people who have done nothing to you and who are here to protect my family?”
He sighed. “No.”
“Good night, Alessandro.”
He turned and walked to the window. My magic pulsed in appreciation, recognizing another swordsman in the sure, easy grace of his movements. I could never spar with him. If we ever tried it, I would end up having sex with him right there, on the spot.
He picked up an object wrapped in tinfoil from the windowsill. “If you scream, I’ll hear you. So if something bad happens, scream, Catalina.”