He pursed his lips and then nodded. "I think so."
"You sound sad about that."
He nodded again. "You know how it is on hunts like that, Anita. Being good isn't enough."
"You have to be lucky, too," I said.
"I'm afraid that I'll be so worried about him I won't be careful enough."
"You're afraid if you take him that you'll get yourself killed protecting him and once you die, he'll die, too," I said.
"Yes," he said, and turned in the seat to look at me. His face was very serious, not blank, not angry, not threatening, just serious.
"Don't take him," I said.
"I can't back out on him now, Anita. It would destroy him."
I frowned at him, sipped my Coke, and tried to think. "What do you want me to say?"
"I'm about to ask a favor, one that I don't have the right to ask."
That surprised me, and it must have shown on my face. "What could you possibly ask that you don't have the right to ask?"
"Come with me on Peter's first hunt."
I blinked at him. I thought about a lot of things, but finally said, "When?"
"Next year, probably fall."