Tad shrugged. “Anna and I traded casserole recipes. I’d guess we’ll still get along. I’m used to ghosts. Dad’s place is haunted, too.”
I winced. It was. It had been not much of a haunting until I accidentally paid too much attention to their ghost. Apparently, it was now knocking stuff off shelves and hiding small but important things like car keys.
“He can always decide to move out if it’s too much,” Adam told me.
“Okay,” I agreed.
“Settled,” said Tad. “See you Saturday, if not before then.” He waved at the three of us and headed for his car.
“Larry, what happened between you two before we got here?” I asked. It wasn’t idle curiosity. I needed to know if my various allies couldn’t be trusted to be alone together.
Larry shrugged. “I think he was guarding your house from me. I could have eased his mind, perhaps.”
I heard an equine snort, though the pony was not anywhere I could see. Larry grinned over his shoulder; evidently he knew where she was.
The grin was gone but a smile lingered in his eyes when he turned back to us. “Your lad seemed to be taking his job very seriously. I might have pushed him a bit to see how he handled it. You left the Iron Kissed’s son here as protection for your daughter, yes? Good idea.”
“Thank you,” said Adam dryly.
“Especially since my people say you sent the Fire Touched and the demon dog away,” Larry said. It wasn’t quite a question.
“Yes,” Adam agreed.
Larry gave him an exasperated look. “I am plying you for information, my friend. A single-word confirmation of something I already know is not useful.”
“Yes,” said Adam, amusement in his tone.
The goblin heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Did you send them away for your safety or theirs?”
“Maybe they moved because their house remodeling is finished, so they can move back in,” I suggested. The fae lie with questions all the time—I didn’t expect Larry to believe me.
Larry smiled at me. “And took the Fire Touched with them to help the tibicena stay under control,” Larry agreed. “But their house has been finished for a month or more at this point. Why now?”
“You know about Wulfe stalking Mercy,” Adam said. It was not a question. The goblins “observed” people of interest. It was part of what made them valuable allies. “We worried that Joel and his wife might become collateral damage,” he told Larry. “And we sent Aiden with him to make sure the tibicena stays controlled.”
“Speaking of Wulfe,” I said, “do you know where he is?”
Larry heaved himself to his feet with pretended effort. “This discussion needs to move inside.”
Alarmed that he might have noticed someone watching, I took in a deep breath of the night air and gave the darkness around us a careful look. Beside me, Adam did the same thing.
Larry’s mount—who smelled only incidentally like any equine I’d ever gotten a whiff of—was still around somewhere nearby. But I couldn’t detect anyone else.
“No intruders,” Larry said, observing this. “But there are creatures who can hear very well living nearby.” Like Tad, he tipped his head to indicate the back of the house. “Very, very well.”
It was a warning.
“Inside the house is better?” I asked.
“It’s warded by your magic-wielding wolf,” he said. “Nothing can listen in.” And if there was something a little rueful in his tone, we all ignored it.
I knew that Sherwood had warded the house. Larry had just made me realize that I didn’t understand exactly what that meant. Wulfe hadn’t had trouble getting in despite Sherwood’s wards. But Wulfe was a law unto himself.
I glanced at Adam, who was holding the door open in invitation. He didn’t seem perturbed by Larry’s remark; likely he had already known what Sherwood’s magic was doing.
After a quick glance up the stairs to where Jesse was sleeping, Adam took us down to the basement so we wouldn’t wake her up. The main room of our basement was set up for the pack to relax or play in. Furniture tended to get moved around—and battered.
Someone had pulled two couches to face each other. One of them was brand-new. The other would need replacing soon, and someone should probably have cleaned the hair off it. Adam took a seat on the battered one. Larry sat across from him.
I got a folding chair from a small stack leaning against the wall, popped it open, and set it next to the couch Adam was on. I sat on it backward.
“If I sit with you in that comfy couch,” I told Adam’s raised eyebrow, “I’m going to fall asleep. I have now officially been awake for twenty-four hours and change.”
Adam frowned at me in concern—though I knew that he’d gotten up at the same time I had. But he wasn’t going to send me up to bed, or grumble at me in front of Larry, any more than I would do to him. He turned his attention to Larry.
“Why are we here instead of the seethe?” Adam asked.
Larry gave him an intense look. “The goblins have alliances. We have always had alliances. We do not have allies.”
I got what he was saying before Adam did, I think. Allies. Friends. People who actually cared about each other. That was quite an offer from the goblin king. In the long history of the fae, only parts of which I was familiar with, the goblins had been thoroughly indoctrinated in the idea that they stood alone.
Adam sat back and considered that. “Why us?”
Larry pursed his lips. “Complicated question. Werewolf packs take care of their own. Only if a situation might impact the pack’s safety—or the safety of a wolf in the pack—do they step into the business of others.”
He smiled at me with teeth in full display, but when he spoke, his voice was a whisper. “Coyote’s daughter changed your pack, Adam Hauptman. She changed you. The Columbia Basin Pack is suddenly full of heroes who take on anyone to protect the innocent, the helpless, even enemies.” He paused. “Even goblins. ‘Might for right,’ in fact.”
“Camelot,” I said involuntarily, recognizing the quote. When Adam shot me a glance, I said, “ ‘Might for right’ is a quote from the musical.”
“Well, you aren’t King Arthur,” said Larry dryly. “Of course, neither was he. But that’s the point, really. What you are doing might change the way we all live together.”
He smiled at me again. “My youngest goblins love playing heroes with your wolves. Even some of the old ones have gotten into the game.”
Adam said, “Like you did at Stefan’s house. If I’d asked for help, it would have been one thing. Riding to the rescue unbidden is another altogether.”
“Indeed,” he agreed. “I would like my people and yours to be friends.”
Friends share important information.
“We were at Stefan’s today as the result of a chain of events,” I told him. And then I described Marsilia’s dramatic performance and her telling us we needed to find Wulfe and how that led us to Stefan’s house.
Larry said, “I was at Stefan’s because one of my goblins called to tell me you were there.”
“That was quick,” I said, because there had been maybe ten minutes between when we’d parked the car and when Larry had shown up.
He shrugged. “I was nearby. I had a feeling.” He paused, considering his options. Possibly organizing his thoughts. Or maybe just to make sure he had our attention. With Larry, it could be any of those.
“Should we call Beauclaire?” I asked.
Larry shrugged. “As you wish, though I wouldn’t ask for help from him myself.”
Which hadn’t been what I’d meant.
“This feels more organized than a couple of upstart fae attacking Stefan. If there is a group of fae attacking the vampires, trying to break the treaty, Beauclaire should know about it,” said Adam, to clarify what I’d meant.