stole away the remaining warmth of the club as we lingered outside the door on the sidewalk.
“Do you need a ride?” she asked.
“So you were spying on me before you walked in. I wondered.”
She paused, her hand in her purse, and grinned up at me. The color was a little high across her cheeks, and the whiskey gingers she’d been drinking put a soft glitter in her eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Now, now, darlin’,” I said. “Let’s not ruin a good night with bad lies.”
“So good lies are okay?”
“Sometimes those can be the best.”
“Are you sure about the ride?” she asked. “It isn’t out of my way.”
“I think I’ll find my own way home tonight.”
“All right,” she said. “Good.” She took a step to the corner, then turned back toward me. “This was nice, Shame. Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
“Maybe we can,” I said. “But we probably shouldn’t.”
“Well, then,” she said. “I guess this is good-bye. Good-bye, Shamus Flynn.”
“Good-bye, Dessa Leeds.”
She gave me one more smile, then crossed the street and strode down the alleyway opposite before I could change my mind.
I started walking and did not look back. Waved down a cab three or four blocks later, and closed my eyes, trying not to think of Dessa, or what might have been between us.
It wasn’t long before the cab pulled up to the inn.
The inn was winding down for the night, the cleaning staff turning down lights and setting the locks. I crossed through the dining area and down the hall, then up the stairs toward my room. Halfway up the stairs, I heard the front door open and shut.
I wondered who was returning to the inn so late.
By the time I reached my room, I heard footsteps thunking up the stairs behind me.
Just because I am a curious bastard, I took my time unlocking my door, waiting to see who had arrived behind me.
The footsteps paused. Something scratched and skittered.
An animal?
I glanced over at the stairs.
Dessa slipped up the last few steps, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder, large purse over the other, and a square, cloth-covered wire cage in one hand. She stopped. Waited for me to say something.
“Miss me already?” I asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean, you appear to be stalking me.”
“No,” she said, “I’m renting a room.”
“Next to mine.”
“Is it?” she asked with an air of innocence that fooled no one. “They said it was the only room that was open.”
“Really.”
“You aren’t worried about me being here, are you, Shame? Afraid of a little girl next door?”
I smiled, leaned against the hall, and pointed at the cage she was carrying. “What’s in the cage?”
“It’s not a cage, it’s a hatbox.
“With a cloth over it.”
“I have shy hats.”
“Come on, now. Let’s have a see.”
She shook her head. “My curtains don’t rise just because some man expects them to. Ruins the mystery.”
The hatbox scratched and skittered again.
“Bird? Gerbil? Lizard? Am I close?”
“Fedora, cloche, baseball. Hats.” She walked down to the door on the left, flicked her keys forward into her fingers. She unlocked the door and leaned into the room.
This was an old inn and the doors were narrow. She had to slide in sideways, which meant the cloth over the cage lifted and I saw a tiny, furry black-and-white face, with close-set ears.
A ferret. She was smuggling a ferret into the inn.
“There’s a no-pet rule, you know,” I said.
“Oh?” she asked, unconcerned.
“Yes. So make sure your hats don’t go for a stroll in the middle of the night.”
She was in the room now, and had placed the cage on the floor. “I assure you, my hats are very well behaved.” She shut the door, and I heard the slide and click of the locks setting.
Ferrets. I shook my head. Not what I’d expect out of an ex-government spy. But then, Dessa was proving to be a lot more than just a woman on a mission of revenge.
I smiled, stepped into my room, and closed the door behind me.
Chapter 14
You know those soft, lazy kinds of mornings where you wake up, realize you are in a comfortable bed, buried beneath your favorite blanket, warm, relaxed, and don’t have a worry in the world?
This was not like that.
A spear of ice slid into my chest, shocking me awake faster than a lightning bolt. I opened my eyes.
It was dark. Eleanor was sitting on my hips. Her eyes wide, panicked. Her hands had disappeared up to her wrists in my chest.
Jesus. I mean, I’d always assumed she’d try to kill me someday, but two things: it wasn’t working, and it hurt.
“What?” I yelped. She was really agitated, and therefore, much more solid. I could feel the weight of her across my hips, like a vise of winter.
She shook her head and hurriedly twisted. I grunted as she pulled one, then the other hand out of my rib cage. She pointed over her shoulder. Toward the door.
No, not toward the door. Toward the man who stood there.
About six foot, built a little on the slim side, wearing dark slacks and a button-down shirt that was undone at the cuffs and away from his neck. His dusty brown hair stuck up, like he hadn’t brushed it in a day or two, and his round wire-rimmed glasses caught the faint moonlight seeping in through the window.
It’d been a while since I’d seen him. About three years. Back before magic had been healed. Back before we knew if we were going to survive the apocalypse. He’d looked like a slightly crazy mad scientist magic user back then.
Hadn’t changed much.
“Eli Collins,” I said as I sat and put both my feet on the floor. “Really nice of you to stop by, my friend. I’ve been looking for you.”
He hesitated there in the shadow for a moment, like a fly on the edge of a spider’s web.
I waited, listening to his heartbeat. Elevated, but not fear. More like anticipation.
“Shamus.” He took a step into the room. Moonlight slipped across him like an airport scanner. “You’re alone?”
What did he expect, that I’d have Terric stashed in my closet? “Sure,” I said. “I’m alone.”
“Good,” he said. “Very good.”
He lifted his hand and in it was a gun.
Eleanor flew at him, flew through him. I raised my hand, the rings across my fist crackling with red
