Wickedly Dangerous (Baba Yaga, #1)(66)
They both froze for a moment, taken off guard by the power of the connection between them. Liam shook it off first, but she caught a glimpse of something that looked a lot like the attraction she was trying so hard to fight.
“I know,” he said, “one of these days I have to take the time to get it cut.”
“It’s growing on me,” Baba said, pulling her hand back awkwardly and stuffing it into her lap, where it would hopefully stay out of trouble. She steered the conversation back to business. Safer that way. “And I meant it when I said thanks. Without your hint to find an alibi, I could be sitting in a jail cell right now, eating bad food, and fighting off some junkie streetwalker who wanted to make me her bitch.”
Liam startled, and dropped his hot dog in the fire, suppressing a curse as he watched his meal burn to a cinder. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. How do you even know about this stuff if you don’t watch TV?” He pulled the last dog out of the package and politely offered it to her before putting it on his now-vacant stick and leaning forward to place it gingerly over the fire.
“The Riders hang out in a lot of bars,” she explained, giving him a rare grin. “They tell me things.”
Chudo-Yudo snorted with laughter, a little Guinness foam clinging to his black lips and giving him a frothy mustache.
“For your information,” Liam said acidly, “Dunville is too small to have streetwalkers. We may have a few women who sleep with men for money, but if they do, they’re subtle enough about it that the sheriff’s department doesn’t have to get involved. And frankly, the food in the jail would have been better than hot dogs.” He blew ashes off his slightly charred wiener before plopping it into a bun and squirting copious amounts of ketchup on it. For a moment, Baba saw a stream of blood flowing through the air and shuddered.
“Ha,” she said, scooting her chair a little closer to the fire. “I can’t believe you came out here, enjoyed my gracious hospitality, and then insulted my gourmet cuisine. I’m going to start thinking you don’t like me.”
There was a moment of silence from the other chair. “Ha,” Liam said, echoing her. But his voice sounded a lot more serious than hers had. “You’re odd, mysterious, and infuriating. What’s not to like?”
Baba tried to ignore the heat that flushed her face. He probably hadn’t meant those things as a compliment, but she rather liked being described that way. At the very least, it was honest.
“Want me to eat him now?” Chudo-Yudo asked from his spot at her feet. “I’ve still got a little room left after those hot dogs.”
Liam jumped, still not used to having a talking dog around, and Baba tried to swallow a laugh along with her wine, spattering them both in a flash of droplets that made the fire flare and flash. She hid her smile behind the hand wiping dampness from her lips.
“Don’t worry,” she said to Liam. “He’s probably kidding.”
“Right,” Liam said, not looking reassured. He put his beer down with a sigh and turned his chair a little so he was facing Baba. “You know, part of me is almost getting used to all this weird stuff. The other part of me still thinks I’m hallucinating, and should seek out medical help and some form of heavy medication.”
Baba sighed too, more quietly, so he wouldn’t hear. It’s not as though she really thought he was going to be okay with witches and dragons and magical doorways. But a girl could dream.
“I’d stick with beer if I were you,” she made herself say in a bright tone. “Fewer side effects, and less likely to get you locked up in a room with padded walls.” She shrugged. “Besides, the weird stuff is only temporary. We’ll solve the Maya problem, get your missing kids back, and I’ll hit the road to chase down the next Baba Yaga call. Everything will go back to normal.” Liam winced, no doubt in response to her weak attempt at a smile.
“Normal,” he said flatly. “I’m not sure I’d even recognize it anymore.”
He gazed at her for a moment and asked, in the tones of a man who wasn’t sure he really wanted an answer, “So, was that actually you last night? The little old lady who called herself Babushka?”
Chudo-Yudo snorted, spraying beer foam over Liam’s shoes. “It’s traditional.”
“Traditional?”
“The Baba Yaga usually appears as an old crone,” Baba explained. “The tales got a little exaggerated over the years, and gave her iron teeth and a long nose that bent down to meet her equally long chin, which curved up.” She felt her own nose a little self-consciously; really it wasn’t that long. Just a bit, um, regal. “I still use the old woman guise on occasion, but it is just a glamour. Illusion.”
“An impressive one,” Liam said. “You had me fooled for quite a while, and I’m pretty sure that my deputies still think they met someone’s not-very-sweet grandmother.”
He thought about it for a moment. “So, Maya’s dramatic bruises and colorful black eye—was that all a glamour too?”
Baba nodded. “A glamour on top of her already existing illusion of a beautiful Human woman.” She grimaced. “If she’s really a Rusalka, I assure you, her true form isn’t nearly that attractive. Unless you like deathly-pale green skin, stringy hair that looks like seaweed, and long sharp pointy teeth.”