Madhouse (Cal Leandros, #3)(29)

Yeah, the wolves did appreciate a good scar. Delilah was no exception.





9




Niko had fixed the kind of food for breakfast that was normally banned from the apartment. Pancakes, bacon, greasy potatoes. Good, good food—not the soy, wheat, egg-substitute crap he normally tried to convince me to eat. "I should be dinner for a supernatural pit bull more often," I said around a mouthful of syrup and blueberries.

"Or not," he said matter-of-factly, turning a glass of juice back and forth between long, calloused fingers.

"Or not," I said apologetically. I didn't see the evidence of a sleepless night in his face, but I knew it was there nonetheless. I shoveled in another forkful of potatoes. "You tell the others about Sawney's new family?"

"The revenants? Yes. No one was precisely thrilled." It wasn't a surprise. Revenants weren't popular with anyone or anything. Dumb, smelly, and mean.

Leaning back with my belly full, I considered burping, but my knee gave a phantom twinge with the memory of the last time I'd had that idea. Nik enjoyed good manners and he enjoyed them in others…with great and occasionally painful enthusiasm. Painful for me anyway. Patting my chest lightly through the T-shirt I'd slipped on, I said, "Delilah did good work."

"Amazing work." He drank the juice in several smooth swallows and then pushed the glass away. "She was here nearly the entire night, but what she accomplished…" He shook his head. "She was worth every penny."

"I thought she was helping us because of Flay." I decided I could fit in one more piece of bacon and sat back up to reach for the plate.

"Yes, but she is Kin. Family is important, money is important. There's no reason she can't honor both. I admire her initiative. Your initiative, however, is a different story." A foot rapped my ankle briskly. "I cooked. You clear."

"Hey, I'm wounded," I protested. "Have a heart."

"You were wounded." His foot impacted again, this time with a little more English on it. "You are lazy. Let us work on making that past tense as well." He stood. "I teach three classes today. I'll be home by six. We'll go hunting then."

There was a barrette on the dresser in my room, all that was left of one of Sawney's victims. Katie the tomboy's sunny hair clip. "I'm ready for a little hunting trip," I said with determination. I could call Ishiah and ask to get my shift switched from tonight to this afternoon. He wouldn't have a problem with it, and if he did, I'd sic Goodfellow on him.

As it turned out, Ishiah wanted to speak to me, the sooner the better. I showed up at the Ninth Circle an hour later, wondering, not for the first time, if it was Ishiah's dark sense of humor or if there was more to peris than Robin knew.

"Good. You're here."

I continued to wrap the bar apron around my waist and nodded. "Here I am," I confirmed, puzzled. Ishiah wasn't usually one for berating the obvious. "Although, trust me, I deserved a sick day."

"You found the elusive Sawney Beane, then?" His wings were out in force and rustling impatiently.

"Rumor mill's already working overtime, huh?" The bar was mostly empty, but last night it would've been full, and monsters like to gossip the same as anyone else. "Yeah, we found him, and he pretty much kicked our asses." I poured myself a glass of tomato juice. Not as manly as a slug of whiskey, but better at replacing iron from blood loss. "So, what'd you want to talk to me about? Am I going to be employee of the month? Is there a plaque involved?"

"After impaling that Gulon with a beer tap? It seems unlikely," he said with annoyance.

"He brought in outside appetizers. It's against the rules." Not to mention that the appetizer had been a dog. A big playful mutt who hadn't had a clue what was in store for him. The beer tap had cleaned right up when I'd finished with it. No harm done, although the Gulon probably wouldn't agree with that assessment. "How is Rover doing, by the way?"

"That is beside the point," he said, eyes stony. I wasn't buying it. One of the other bartenders, a peri named Danyeal—Danny to me—said Ishiah had kept the dog, which was now fat, happy, and a veritable fountain of urine whenever his master's back was turned.

"And what was the point again?" I asked innocently.

"Never mind." He got out while the getting was good and folded his arms. "I want to talk to you about Robin."

"Goodfellow?" I said curiously. "You're not going to ban him from the bar, are you? He'll only show up more often if you do. Probably move the hell in."

"No." The wings were spreading now. It was the unconscious reaction of peris to stress or danger. Danny flared his wings at even the hint of a bar fight, but as the steely Ishiah was about the furthest thing from high-strung as you could get, I was betting that danger of the big and bad kind was the option here. "I'm hearing things," he announced quietly.

"What kind of things?" I prodded.

"There's word that Robin is being targeted. I heard it just today." Catching a glimpse of feathers from the corner of his eye, he hissed in exasperation and the wings wavered like a heat mirage and disappeared. "I don't know who's behind it. I don't know if it's true, but the rumor is out there. I would tell him myself, but his harridan housekeeper won't put my calls through. And if I showed up at his home in person, I might have to tell him over crossed swords."