“Let them get it out of their systems,” Midas said through the glass. “I deserve to walk the gauntlet.”
“How did you do all this?” Fumbling the latch, I pushed the window open onto the fire escape. “I didn’t hear a thing.”
“Lisbeth loaned me a charm.” He finished twisting fairy lights on the railing. “What do you think?”
A bright weatherproof rug covered the metal grating underfoot, and a pair of blue wicker chairs huddled in one corner with a matching table between them. Lush plants I hoped he would remember to water, because I never would, sat in colored pots at the other end. Wooden poles had been mounted to the side of the building to support an awning of coordinating fabric, and more lights wrapped its frame before spreading across the railing to where Midas stood beside an outdoor bean bag large enough for me to nap on, or for a gwyllgi on four legs to flop on if he chose.
I got the feeling Lisbeth had loaned him more than the charm. Probably her sense of style too.
“This is amazing.” I touched the poles. “How did you get permission from management?”
“Half of the Faraday’s prestige is wrapped up in having the potentate in residence these days. It’s been a huge selling point since Linus moved in, and that trend shows no signs of slowing down soon. I reminded the owners of that and suggested a few minor changes to make your new space homier might convince you to stay in residence after a security breach almost cost you your life.”
Until the Faraday became famous among the paranormal set for housing the current potentate, it had been legendary for its security. The gwyllgi on staff were hardly to blame for the coven’s ability to blend. They wore people’s identities that we had known, trusted, and they were hard to catch in the act. It cost the security team points, though. Publicly. I regretted that, but I also couldn’t spread word on the street about the coven without risking them burrowing in even deeper.
“That’s sneaky.” I climbed out to join him. “I approve.”
“We spend so much time avoiding preferential treatment, I thought it made for a nice change to instead apply it where it would do the most good.”
“And that’s my fire escape?”
“You like the freedom of coming and going without announcing your movements to everyone in the building.” He kicked the bag chair. “I figured it might be smart to pad my own doghouse for the next time I do something monumentally stupid while I was at it.”
“You sound certain it’s going to happen.”
“Other than the girl I promised to mate when I was five, I’ve never been in a relationship.”
“Same.” I blew out a long sigh. “Minus the mated-at-five thing. Even then, I was wary of commitment.”
I was two years old when my mother struck me for the first time. I don’t remember it, exactly, but I do know that was the year my daycare teachers reported me crying whenever it was time for our parents to pick us up from class. They laughed it off as me wanting to stay and play with friends, but it got to the point they became concerned. That’s when Mother started sending Boaz for me. I couldn’t say no to him, though he always took me to the one place I wanted to go least: home.
“You don’t have to make one until you’re ready.” He plugged in the lights, and the twinkle cast us in a warm glow. “You’re not gwyllgi. Our rules are our rules, not yours. You don’t have to follow them. I never should have put that pressure on you.”
The flickering lights illuminated all the faces pressed against the glass watching our private moment.
“We’ll, uh, finish this later.” I pecked him on the cheek then unplugged the lights. “We’ve got to move out. Smythe is waiting.”
Midas lingered against the railing. “Am I invited?”
The tension I already caused between him and the pack worried me. “I didn’t want to assume…”
“I have another present for you.” He passed me a crisp paper embossed with an official seal. “This might help.”
The top sheet of what I now saw was a thin packet blocked out a route leading from Centennial Olympic Park out of the city. The bottom was a copy of a permit for a parade. A frakking parade.
“How did you push this through so fast?” I goggled at him. “It’s legit?”
A nighttime parade, okay, plausible, but no crowds allowed? How did he expect to manage that?
“Mom pulled a few strings.” He sobered. “She wants the Martian Roaches exterminated too.”
“Police escort?” Bishop asked from over my shoulder. “That complicates things.”
“They’re sentinels,” he explained. “Lizzy arranged it.”
“Smart.” I passed the paper to Bishop so he would stop breathing down my neck. “I’m impressed.”
“They’re going to maintain a perimeter for us,” Midas continued, earning bonus points. “I asked the pack for volunteers to herd the roaches. If Smythe can get them out into the open and keep them sedate, we can take it from there.” He shrugged. “I’ve got the cleaners on standby too. They’ll handle any witnesses and collateral damage.”
“Who spilled the beans to you?” I surveyed the room, the guilty faces. “I didn’t tell anyone but Bishop.”
“I updated the team, but that’s it.” Bishop got it a beat before I did, and we said together, “Lisbeth.”
Ford shifted his weight and kept his head down. “She might have mentioned it.”
Aside from leaking privileged information, I had other worries. “You’re still talking?”
“A little.” He cleared his throat. “She won’t get into trouble, will she?”
Lisbeth had hunted down each of my closest allies and brought them here to help me. I couldn’t work up a good mad over that. But I would have to sit her down and read her the riot act if she planned on Ford becoming
