I guessed that was one interpretation of things, since Nigellus hadn’t specifically indicated that we were no longer welcome. Len opened his mouth to argue further, only to close it again when he couldn’t come up with a compelling counter-argument. Rans smiled his shark’s smile and tossed the keys at him. Len snatched them out of the air more in self-defense than anything else, staring at them blankly.
Albigard watched the exchange with a jaded expression. “Of course, if that were truly the case, you’d simply go there yourself. However, at this point I’m finding the conversation tiresome enough that I can’t bring myself to care much about the details.”
“That’s the spirit,” Rans said, still smiling with teeth.
I looked between them and sighed. “Guthrie? Come and show me where we’ll need to go to catch this cruise ship. I’ll print out maps of that, and of Nigellus’ place. That way, Tinkerbell won’t end up frying your laptop accidentally. In the meantime, these two can continue their dick-measuring contest in peace.”
Guthrie shrugged, and headed for his office. I sent a glance toward Len, but he was still alternating skeptical looks at the keyring with skeptical looks at Albigard. I left him to it. Once the maps were printing, I steeled myself and met Guthrie’s eyes.
“Are you doing all right, Guthrie?” Which was probably a stupid question.
He shot me a flat stare. “Not particularly. You?”
I made a soft noise that didn’t have much to do with amusement. “As much as I hate to say it, this is basically a normal Thursday for me,” I told him, with far too much truthfulness.
Grabbing the maps and an extra sheet of paper from the printer, I headed back to the others. After orienting Albigard to the California map, I quickly sketched out the floor plan of Nigellus’ house on the blank sheet, as best I could remember it. Then I ran through the location of the items I wanted with Len.
“And you’re sure the house will be empty?” Len asked, his entire posture screaming ‘this whole thing is a terrible idea.’
“Yeah,” I said immediately, only to qualify the statement after a moment’s thought. “Well, I mean, it should be. Maybe you’d better knock on the door first, just to be safe. If anyone answers, just... I dunno... tell them you’re lost and ask for directions to Vallecito.”
“O-kay,” Len said uncertainly.
“Oh, and you might want to keep your phone powered off so Tinkerbell here doesn’t fry it with his magic. I’ve lost, like, two cell phones that way already.”
Len blinked at me, looking increasingly like someone caught in the headlights of an oncoming train. “Right...”
Across the room, Albigard finished his examination of the maps and straightened. “Come, human. I’ve no desire to listen to any more of this endless bleating than I must.”
With a look of concentration, he cast a glowing portal next to the kitchen island. After regarding whatever lay on the other side for a long moment, he gave a satisfied nod and gestured imperiously for Len to precede him.
Len’s Adam’s apple bobbed once, and he shot me a dark look. “If I end up trapped in a pocket universe with my guts turned inside out, I’m blaming you, Z.”
I shrugged and gave him a sheepish wave, mouthing ‘thanks’ as he shook his head in resignation and stepped through the fiery oval. Albigard followed, and it snapped shut behind them, leaving me alone with Rans and Guthrie.
“Insufferable, pointy-eared git,” Rans muttered.
I wandered into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. “You know, I fantasize a lot lately about someday being in my own home, contemplating a quiet weekend with no drama and no one wanting to kill me,” I told the ceiling. “Ice cream, Netflix, that kind of thing.”
Echoing silence met the statement, presumably meant as commentary on its unlikelihood.
“So, we broke Len’s brain, apparently,” I went on. “I’m...really kind of upset about that.”
“He’s not broken,” Rans said, flopping down next to me. “Rough patch? Yes. But he’ll sort himself out, love. If anything, I feel mildly bad about saddling him with that Fae arsehole, even if it is just for a short time.”
There was no point in reminding Rans for the dozenth time that Albigard was helping us just like I’d asked him to—just like he always did—so I didn’t bother.
“I can’t believe I tried to tear the poor kid’s throat out,” Guthrie said, sounding haunted. He lowered himself into a chair across from us.
I steeled myself and met his eyes. “Not your fault. And no one got hurt... although to be fair, your refrigerator door may never be quite the same.”
“At least you’d already salvaged the steaks,” Rans said.
Even now, sitting next to me on a comfortable sofa, the coiled tension he’d been carrying under his devil-may-care demeanor didn’t relent. And I had no idea what I could do to help. I was surrounded by problems I had no clue how to fix. Maybe that was why I’d been so insistent about Rans getting over his bullshit feud with Albigard—it was another thing I was responsible for, but at least in this case, I also had the power to make it better.
If... you counted Rans insulting Abligard, and Albigard hurling a knife at Rans’ chest as being an improvement over not speaking to each other, at least. Swallowing a sigh, I turned my attention to Guthrie again.
“I feel like we should talk more about the stolen-DNA-slash-biological-grandfather thing,” I said, unable to keep from picking at the invisible scab.
Guthrie eyed me, but whereas he’d looked angry when he’d first learned of what Myrial had done, now he only looked tired. “What do you want me to say?”
I chewed on my lower lip. “I don’t...” The words trailed off, and I tried again. “What do you want to say?”
I could feel Rans watching me, and heat darkened my cheeks beneath my dusky complexion. I still wasn’t used to being seen in the way that
