Hidden Passions (Hidden, #7)(30)

~

The body of Maureen Savoyard, weretiger, 42, was found early Sunday morning in her home by her eighteen-year-old son Christophe. The M.E.'s office ruled the likely cause of death as a self-administered overdose of Benzodiazepines infused with faerie dust, colloquially known as Benzi-Wings.

Ms. Savoyard was believed to suffer from depression following the murder of two other children by her then live-in boyfriend, weretiger Mark Naegel.

Naegel's trial, at which Ms. Savoyard's surviving son testified, resulted in a guilty verdict. Due to evidence of diminished capacity, the death penalty was not invoked. Naegel is currently serving a life sentence at Rykers in Poughkip, a demon-run maximum-security penitentiary.

Determination as to whether Naegel's clan owes Mr. Savoyard restitution for his brothers' murders has yet to be decided.

~

"Shit," Tony muttered beneath his breath.

The article he'd read came from the Courier. It included a single photo--that of Maureen Savoyard. Her eyes were sadder and her features more delicate, but she strongly resembled the man he knew as Chris Savoy.

Chris must have shortened his name, presumably so the old tragedy wouldn't follow him everywhere. Tony wasn't certain why it came up in his search. The Elfnet worked on bits and bytes much like the Outsiders' world wide web. Occasionally the magic that powered it threw in its own two cents, as if the software knew who ought to get which info.

Tony suspected the software had glitched today. It didn't take a genius to realize Chris wouldn't want him discovering this. They weren't dating. Tony had no excuse for checking up on his background. Lack of excuse aside, he wasn't a stranger to this sort of event. Being a cop exposed him to the darker side of extra-human nature. What humans did to each other, supes sometimes did in spades. It saddened him to see it, though it also made him realize how important his job was.

Even if justice came too late to save a life, it told survivors their loss was important.

His cordless phone rang, causing him to jump guiltily. He hopped off the couch to dig it out from under a discarded pillow and an old magazine. This left him standing by his front window. On the sidewalk below, the corner grocer passed. He appeared to be having a one-sided conversation with his friendly but not-magical golden retriever.

"Hello," Tony answered, smiling in spite of the other things in his head.

"Tony!" Evina's voice exclaimed. "Thank goodness I caught you in."

"What's up?" Tony asked, a call from Nate's new wife not a common occurrence. Was it weird that he'd just been looking at her photo?

"I'm so sorry to ask you this. I know it's your day off, but could you look after the twins today? My mom's out of town, and I've been called in as backup on a three-alarm."

"Not a problem," Tony assured her. "You're at Nate's now?"

"Yes," she said, though Nate's was now the whole family's house. "You have the key? I've given the cubs strict orders to mind you."

Tony grinned. He knew kids . . . and how long those orders were liable to last. "Don't sweat it. I'll keep them out of trouble."

She gave him a few more breathless instructions: what Abby and Rafi liked to eat; which of the six-year-olds' toys he should probably grab and bring with them.

"Uh," Tony said, a smidgen of alarm rising. "You don't want me to babysit them there?"

"The painters are coming to do the kids' new bedrooms. I'm afraid they'll be underfoot."

The twins were cats, so underfoot could be literal. Tony looked around his epically cluttered apartment. He found it comfortable, and the cubs might not disagree. Their mother, however, would have a different perspective.

"Okay then. I'll, uh, probably watch them at Rick's place."

Evina was so relieved to have her kids taken care of she didn't question this. "Bless you," she said. "You're a lifesaver."

Tony hung up . . . and immediately wished he'd found a way to ask if Chris had been called out on the fire with her.

~

Being the baby of his generation meant Tony was half kid himself. He and the tiger twins plunged right into having fun. They made pancakes and bacon and built a fort by overturning a sofa and draping it in sheets. A slightly too-competitive game of Portals and Ladders seemed like it might end in tears, but Tony was able to distract his charges with a giant pad of paper and the kids' own mess-proof magic markers.


No matter how hard you pressed, they wouldn't write on walls.

Quiet for the time being, the cubs lay on the floor beneath Rick's sunny front window, drawing from either side of the large manila sheet. Rafi's tongue stuck out in concentration, and Abby colored so energetically her dark mop of curls jiggled.

Enjoying the opportunity to catch his breath, Tony watched them fondly from an armchair. Maybe his mom was right about more grandkids. These two had certainly turned his day around. He wondered if the rules of Resurrection allowed gay men to adopt. Did Chris like kids? Chances were he had issues on account of losing his littermates. If that hadn't put him off parenting, a cat like him would make a great father.

Tony sucked in a breath at the errant thought. Talk about romantically deluded.

He sprung up like a Jake In the Box when he heard his brother's tread coming up the brownstone's stairs. Rick was supposed to be at work. Tony guessed this wasn't his day for relaxing.