Nightlife (Cal Leandros #1)(13)

Funny thing about faith… it goes a lot faster than it comes.

To tell Niko what I'd seen or not to tell—actually, Hamlet, that was not the question. It wasn't so much a matter of whether Nik would find out as a matter of when. He had X-ray vision, my brother. He'd know, sooner or later, that I was hiding something, and I was betting on sooner. So if I wanted a chance to brood darkly over the situation in true Heathcliff fashion, I was going to have to manufacture my own opportunity. And I was going to have to do it quick.

I fell back on a tried-and-true plan that had never failed. Ten seconds after we hit bur apartment I was out like a light on the couch. It was the perfect plan because there wasn't an ounce of deceit in it. I was the next best thing to some sort of friggin' yogi, able to enter a coma at the drop of a hat. When I woke up hours later the front door was securely locked and Niko had gone to the dojo to teach. At least that's what his note said, along with a scathing reminder that dishes didn't wash themselves and the fungus in the bathroom was one day away from evolving into sentient life. I folded the note into an airplane and sailed it across the room. It ended up perched jauntily on top of the ancient television. It looked good there and I left it as a tribute to freedom-loving fungi everywhere.

Pulling a half-empty peanut butter jar from the cabinet, I sat at the kitchen table and went to work. Just me, a spoon, and some peanut butter long past its prime. You can always tell… It's crunchy, but you bought smooth. Texture aside, it still tasted the same. More or less. Taking a bite, I let my eyes unfocus and thought about Georgina. I'd trusted her, almost as much as Niko. And that was huge in my book. Hell, in any book.

But she had lied to us. Lies were like acid, corrosive: They could dissolve trust in a heartbeat. And while I always had a wary eye out for betrayal, I wouldn't have thought to look in George's direction. I'd seen her help a lot of people, seen her bring so much hope into bleak, empty lives. I'd seen her deliver hard truths as well. They'd always been softened with George's calm words that told of the beautiful and vibrantly colored bigger picture. But she'd delivered the truth, softened or not. Always.

Until now.

And I had to wonder what had happened. Why would George turn her back on an integrity that was as much a part of her as that curly red hair? I took another bite and grimly ignored the thick sensation as it stuck in my throat. Maybe I should forget the why and focus on the what. She'd obviously lied, but what exactly was the lie? Were Grendels actually here and combing the city for me? Was it that neither Niko nor I was safe? Hell, maybe it was both. Pushing the jar away, I rested my chin in my hand, my elbow on the cheap plastic surface of the table. Shit. Whatever it was, it meant bailing and fast.

I closed my eyes and swore out loud this time. The why refused to be buried under thoughts of moving on again. You'd think I'd just chalk it up as nothing new and start packing my bags. But it was George, and her hands had a tight hold on me, much tighter than I ever should've allowed. Jesus, Georgie, what are you doing? I pushed the jar away and dropped the spoon with a clatter. From day one we'd met her, George had had a light around her. Corny as hell, but true. She'd been at the fish market on Pier 17, a well-worn dog collar clutched in her hands. An old man had been with her, his sparse white hair standing on end from the frantic combing of agitated fingers. With ratty bow tie and stooped shoulders he'd been saying, "She slipped her collar. She's never done that. Never. Venus is a good girl."

Niko and I had been down there looking for work when we'd noticed the quiet little drama of man loves dog; man loses dog. Nudging Niko's ribs with an elbow, I'd given him a grim snort as I watched the little girl work the old guy. I'd seen this a thousand times with Sophia. "I've lost my wife, my fortune, my mom, my dad, my child. Help me. Guide me. Save me." The goddamn heartbroken, they were everywhere. I had to say I'd never seen Sophia "search the spirit world" for a mutt, though. Not that she wouldn't have given her spiel if there'd been money involved. She'd have channeled a guinea pig for the right price.

This chick had her own moves down pat. Hands stroked the collar; dark eyes had looked inward. A small face all but glowed with a light so pure that it had to be faked. She'd give the old man a few lines, a practiced patter, take the money he'd slide into her greedy hand, and then she'd be gone. And the old man would still be alone. Nothing but an empty collar to keep him company.

Those were the breaks.

And least that's what I thought until I saw Venus come dashing out from behind some pallets, all dirty white fur, flying feet, and yapping bark. Niko touched his shoulder to mine and murmured, "Well, who would've thought?"

Not me, that's for damn sure. While the geezer and Venus exchanged wet, sloppy kisses, the little girl had come over to Nik and me. Tiny, so tiny, she looked to be all of twelve. Later we discovered that she was actually fifteen, and about fifteen lifetimes wiser than I was. She had stood in front of us with her red hair pulled into braids and said solemnly, "There aren't any jobs here right now. You should check back next week. They'll need a night watchman then." And then she'd smiled, innocent and curious. "Caliban. That's a funny name."

And that had been George.

Jars don't shatter too well when the glass is glued together with peanut butter. It's not so much a satisfying explosion as a disappointingly muddy crunch. I was on my knees cleaning up the mess when the thought hit me. Maybe George had done what she'd thought to be the kindest thing. She could've seen our future set in stone. Could've seen that no matter what we did, Niko and I didn't survive. It could be that whether we stayed or left, our ass was grass either way. And while she delivered hard truths, maybe that was one even George couldn't see a silver lining in.