Madhouse (Cal Leandros, #3)(37)

"Smart-ass pup, fetal flash-in-the-pan," he grumbled, but it was all surface. Beneath that was a dark melancholy he was usually more cautious about concealing. "I'm a puck. Pissing off lesser creatures is what I do. How can I be blamed for those who have absolutely no humor and a marked inability to hold on to their wallet? But that, while significant, is not the problem."

"Then what is?" Niko asked with the patience of a man who has all the time in the world. What we'd forgotten was that Robin was the one with that trait.

"I can't remember." He dropped his foot back to the floor. "I can't begin to recall all those I've practiced my trickery on over the years, because it is the years that are too many, not my victims. Although, to give credit where credit is due…" He flashed a happily predatory grin. When it faded, he added contemplatively, "I remember the highs and lows, naturally, but if I, for example, stole a boggle's treasure trove some ten thousand years ago, that I won't remember."

"But he would remember you," Niko stated.

"Yes, I would definitely be a low for him and I'm sure it would stick quite clearly in his muddy speck of a brain cell, but for me?"

"Not so much?" I said.

"Yes, not so much," he responded impassively. "I have no idea where I was born or when. I've forgotten more of my life than I remember. There simply isn't a way to make a list of the usual suspects."

"Perhaps if we concentrate on the attempts themselves." Niko straightened, pale eyes razor sharp in their persistence. "The Hameh birds and the sirrush are all from the same general area. Did you do something memorable down Babylon way? Were you someone's rough beast?"

Robin met that gaze with an unwavering one of his own. He was either remembering something or doing his damnedest not to. "Poetic." He stood. "But nothing that could pertain to this, I'm sure."

I could see Niko wasn't buying it, and neither was I. But what we believed didn't matter, because the conversation was over. Goodfellow made some noise about how he'd think on it, mull it over, keep his head down, and thanks so very much for our input, care, and concern, and he was out the door. And there I sat, leg still dangling.

"Your ride on the debauchery express is leaving without you," Niko informed me blandly.

"It looks that way." I heaved myself up and grabbed my jacket.

"You're positive about this?" he asked as I shrugged into it. "You should let Georgina make her own decision when it comes to this. She's stronger than you give her credit for."

"I know she is." I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets and curved my lips without humor. "Hell, she's stronger than me. She can live with the uncertainty. I can't."

He dipped his chin and said only, "You're strong enough, just in all the mulishly obstinate wrong ways." Tilting his head toward the door, he continued. "Tell Goodfellow if he gets you in trouble, he can look forward to a few more attempts on his life."

"Come on, Cyrano," I said lightly, "people get laid all the time. What could go wrong?"

More to the point…what could go right?

Not a goddamn thing.

The first stop was a penthouse apartment on the Upper West Side. Other than the door being painted black, it was an impressive place. Doorman. Soft, deep carpeting in the halls with subdued lighting. Very pricey. I looked around, feeling a little out of place. "You're sure she won't know I'm half Auphe?"

"If she does, she won't mind," Robin assured me. "She's quite open-minded, a wonderful species, totally without judgment. And they absolutely cannot breed with Auphe, or humans for that matter. In fact, they lay eggs, which requires fertilization at a much later date. She looks very human, though, so don't pull a groin muscle worrying over that one. I know you're new to the nonhuman dating scene." He checked his watch. "Good. We're right on time." He knocked lightly on the door, then mentioned casually, "Oh, I nearly forgot. She may…may…try to eat you afterward, but it's rare. Only if she finds you very, very charming, and with your personality I think we know what the odds are on that."

On that note, I turned and headed back down the hall away from the door … at a slightly faster clip than when I'd approached it.

The next stop was Central Park and the lake. Goodfellow stood on the shore, careful of his champagne-scrubbed shoes. "Lyrlissa. She's a limnade, a lake nymph. Once again, eggs, requiring the sperm of not one but two…well, that's neither here nor there. You're good to go."

The moon had turned the water into ripples of silver against black, a spill of platinum chains against velvet. It looked beautiful. It also looked cold as hell. I crouched down and slid a finger into the water. "Huh. Is she coming out?"

"She's a lake nymph, you uneducated child. They don't do that."

"Well, here's something I don't do," I countered, irritated, "get it up in fifty-degree temperature water."

"No?" Robin frowned.

"Jesus Christ, no! At least not and keep it there. I might be only half human, but the dick? That's all human, okay? It has its limits."

"As if you haven't suffered enough." He shook his head and squeezed my shoulder sympathetically. "Perhaps it's for the best. You would have to hold your breath for the duration, but I figured with your phenomenal lack of experience with the female of any species, you could manage to do that for the forty-five seconds that it would take for you to finish anyway."