Final Dance Part Two - Samantha Cayto Page 0,40

Annika and Petru had given him, he quickly accessed Val’s secure email and sent the coordinates of his location and the schematics to the lair. He also provided—as best he could—information about what the rescue party would face once they arrived, in the form of numbers of mercenaries and fire power. In addition, he set up a time for them to send him a response about their ETA so that he could shut down the alarm systems for the perimeter—not that it was certain they’d trust him with that information. He had to try, though, and counted on Annika being persuasive about his loyalty.

Before sending the message, he threw in one last line—Everyone is as well as can be expected, but don’t dawdle. Although it wasn’t the most positive thing to say, it was at least honest.

He shut down the connection and slipped back to the corridor and into the surveillance room. His buddy was still snoring away. It gave Merlin time to run the video of the surveillance in the computer room to delete the part that showed him going in. This was also something he’d tried before. It worked, although if anyone bothered to check the time stamp, the missing minutes would be noticeable. It was a risk he had to take, not having dared to ask too many questions about how the lair’s security worked. When he was done, he kicked a chair to make noise and wake his host.

The guy jerked to a sitting position and wiped some drool from his face. “What the fuck!” He looked at Merlin and smirked. “Hey, cunt, how about another blowie?”

“No, thanks. Got to go. I’m supposed to be helping with the baby.” The man’s expression conveyed how much he disliked that answer. To appease him, Merlin reminded him of what was at stake. “I’d hate to have to tell the Master that I was late helping with his son because I was too busy with your dick in my mouth.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come back when you’re done.”

“Sure thing.” He pretended to gag as he left the room, careful not to let the man see, yet unable to stay the impulse. This undercover stuff sucked, in the literal sense of the word.

Merlin did take the time to wash quickly and dress in his street clothes before going to the nursery. Really, it was Andri’s room, kitted out for childcare. He found the weird-eyed changeling trying to feed a fussing Idris.

“Come on, you little shit. It tastes good. I just ate some, didn’t I?”

Idris sat in a highchair, glaring at the boy with obvious suspicion. The baby had good instincts and was giving Dracul’s crazy slut fits. It would have been comical to watch, except Merlin wasn’t entirely convinced that the nutcase with the zebra hair could be relied on to do the right thing, even for his own preservation.

“Hey there, Idris. Not eating your mashed peas, are you?”

Andri slapped the spoon he held into the bowl and glared at him. “You’re late.”

“Sorry… It’s hard to keep track of time down here in the land of the mole people.”

Andri’s expression turned even nastier. “Better not let the Master hear you say that.”

“The Master is the exception that proves the rule. I was referring to the human mercenaries. Oh…and you.”

He squatted beside the highchair and tickled the baby’s foot. “How’s it going?”

Idris pointed one chubby finger at the bowl in Andri’s hand. “Yuck!” He gave this pronouncement in his usual opera-volume voice.

Merlin glanced at the mixture of potatoes, peas and carrots. “Can’t argue with you there, kid. It’s not much better than those MREs the soldiers fed us on the plane.”

“You think you can do better?” Andri slammed the bowl on the table and flounced away.

Such a drama queen.

Merlin took his place. “It’s all in the tone.” He spooned some of the mush and held it close to Idris’ lips. “Come on, Idris. I know this sucks, but eat it for me. Do it for the Queen,” he whispered.

That did the trick. The baby opened his mouth and dutifully emptied the spoonful. Then he took the next one with less coaxing and finally was happily finishing his meal. Some of it slopped on Merlin’s finger. When he licked it off, he realized that it actually tasted pretty good.

“You’re a naughty boy, aren’t you, Idris? Giving Andri a hard time…” He grinned and the boy returned the look. He could swear they shared a moment of conspiracy.

Once the food was consumed, he took Idris

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