Rob Thurman - Deathwish

“I’m certainly getting none my way.” Ishiah headed toward the door. “The next call I expect will request an anecdote for your eulogy. Anything else, and don’t bother.” He put his all in the growl, but as he’d been the one to save Robin’s life days ago, I had a hard time buying it.

Closing the door behind him, I asked Goodfellow, “Did you ever thank him for saving your ass?”

“Gods, no,” he denied, appalled. “That’s not our dynamic.”

“And what would that be?” Niko said. “Rabid annoyance alternating with intense loathing?”

“Exactly.” He yawned again. “One shouldn’t mess with a proven formula. Wake me for my watch.” Yeah, good luck to Nik there, because I had no desire for a dreaming Robin to mistake me for a Spartan, naked or clothed.

Hours later, I was pulling my sentry duty, moving through the apartment quietly. Niko could remain still for hours at a time if he wanted and stay completely alert. Not me. I was a pacer. If I was off watch, I could snooze on the couch with the TV blaring, no problem. But waiting—that wasn’t my strong suit. And staying still after this last Auphe attack? That wasn’t going to happen. So I walked with skin itching and stomach on edge, waiting to feel the tidal pull of a gate opening. I ignored the faint feeling of being watched. After a battle, paranoia and adrenaline went hand in hand. It just came with the territory.

As for trying to anticipate their next move, I couldn’t do it. To give me some credit, I’d been half right about the last one—too bad half wasn’t nearly good enough. But right now, even with the knowledge of a partially new motive on their part, I still couldn’t begin to try. Not yet. Just . . . not yet.

Coward.

As I moved from the kitchen to the living room and down the hall, I saw them. The door was cracked open enough to let me see Niko sitting on the edge of Promise’s bed. I couldn’t make out many details in the dark, but I could see his hand resting on her hair as she slept. Couldn’t live with, couldn’t live without . . . Nik deserved better. A whole helluva lot better. But I couldn’t help him make this decision, just like he hadn’t been able to help me with George. Everybody had that line . . . the one you couldn’t cross. I’d reached mine, which had led to a loss I didn’t know I’d ever get over. Of course, it also led to Delilah, a wolf with benefits. Life—what could you do?

I didn’t know where Nik’s line would take him, but two days down the road, cabin fever was taking us all someplace. “Why the car lot?” I groaned as Promise’s driver pulled up into the lot Robin owned. “It’s not my idea of a good time.” Although at this point I wasn’t sure anything would be a good time. I would be happy if something just took my mind off the Auphe for a while. I’d given myself a night of denial before forcing myself far from the shores of humanity to where only monsters dwelled, thought, and planned.

But what were those plans? The thoughts came easier. Much too easy. If I could think those same blood-soaked thoughts, maybe I was treading water out where I belonged. I did know if I stayed too long, I wouldn’t make it back to shore again. The more I tried to think like an Auphe, the more I was an Auphe, and I couldn’t deny it. Niko could, but I knew better.

“Yes, yes. I’m sure your idea of a good time is us dropping you off at that werewolf’s place and waiting in the car while you bump furries,” Robin scowled. “But if I’m not getting any, no one is getting any. And for your information, as much as I dislike work, I have a business to run. One that keeps me in fine suits, a magnificent apartment, and wine that would make one weep.”

“Work,” Niko said. “Don’t you mean robbing innocent consumers blind?”

“Caveat emptor. If you’re brainless enough to be ripped off, then you deserve it. Pure economics. Survival of the fittest. Besides, I’m a trickster. It’s my calling.” It was twilight, and the lot was closed for the day. Robin used his key to let us in. We’d come at this time of day for Promise. She was already almost completely healed, but a wounded vampire was extra sensitive to light. Her hooded cloak wouldn’t be protection enough for another day or so.

We followed him into the building and I got a look at a few cars way beyond our reach, although with the pearls we had . . . nah. Niko had a freakish attachment to his beat-up old car. So obsessively neat in every other way, he always drove a piece of shit. When I asked him why he was so fond of something that didn’t work half the time, he’d answered, “I’m fond of you, aren’t I?” And he called me a smart-ass.

“Look at the toys.” Robin waved his hand. “I’ll be in my office. And Cal, do try not to drive through the display window again. As a matter of fact, try not to touch anything. My insurance agent is only so understanding.”

“Ass,” I muttered as he walked away. He was never going to let me live that down. Possession didn’t cut it as an excuse for driving through the plate glass in one of his cars. Just for his comment, I ran a hand along the sleek red hood of a classic Mustang. “If you’re going for old, why can’t you buy something like this?” I asked Niko.

“Because eating and paying rent is preferable,” he answered.

Yeah, the money from those pearls was going into the bank, no doubt about it. No new toys for us. Unless it was a weapon, but those could be fun too. I opened the car door and slid in. Nice. Very nice. “You know, we could really mow down some monsters in this. It’d take them out better than my Glock.”

“Stop dreaming, little brother, and get out of the car. We live in New York now. One car is more than plenty.”

Parking, she was a bitch. We were lucky Robin let us keep Niko’s antique at his lot for free, because New York was definitely far more city than we’d been to when Sophia had dragged us around. She preferred the smaller towns. The cops weren’t as sharp there when it came to con artists. Although there’d been nights, sometimes weeks, we’d spent alone when she was in jail. Niko and I had gotten good at telling any nosy neighbors that Mom was at the store or the post office, or at the homeless shelter serving up goddamn soup.

I ran a hand over the steering wheel, sighed, and got out of the car. Maybe a motorcycle. The great monster fighter cruising around on his hog . . . that wasn’t a cliché, no. Fine. I’d be a monster fighter who rode the bus. It didn’t get any more bad-ass than that. Yet I didn’t have a problem picturing Delilah on a motorcycle, and it didn’t seem a cliché at all.

“You can always drive my car,” Niko reminded.

“I can drive the crapmobile. Jeez, how’d I get so lucky?” Of course, I could take some of the money and buy one if I really wanted it, and Nik wouldn’t say a word after the fact. It was our money after all, but it would be a toy. While we might be flush with money now, who knew when our next paying job would be? But Niko being right didn’t mean I couldn’t give him a hard time. “I could feel the wind in my hair as I pushed that stalled piece of shit down the road. Can’t get a thrill bigger than that.”

“My limo is always at your disposal,” Promise said, still paler than normal. Niko offered her the receptionist’s chair, but it was done more with courtesy than the affection he’d shown her two nights ago while she slept. I wondered if she even knew about that. I still didn’t know which way Nik was going to go, and I wasn’t exactly sure which way would be best. He had been happy with Promise, and I liked that. But she’d broken his trust and that I didn’t like . . . at all. Not my decision, not my relationship on the line, but it didn’t stop me from trusting her less. I’d thought she’d always do what was best for Nik. I wasn’t so sure now. Then again, considering Cherish’s personality defects . . . the selfishness of a vampire teen, and the late, great ex-mate Seamus’s homicidal ways, maybe she was—in her own way. It just wasn’t the right way in Nik’s eyes.