ambled away, leaving me wondering why I felt as if I’d needed so very badly to hear someone tell me that.
9
Thorn
If I were not beholden to our liberator’s efforts on our behalf, there were many things I could have complained about in regards to this mortal woman. The way she rattled the ends of the twig-like things she’d called “chopsticks” against the sides of one of the boxes our dinner had arrived in. The squeak of the kitchen chair’s feet as she periodically tipped back her weight in it. The little laughs she made to herself while she prodded her “laptop” into producing information that apparently was more amusing than useful to our quest.
She made a lot of jokes, this one. Here in her home, out at the bridge, in that large room full of padded chairs where she’d met with the rest of her “Fund” friends. And always singing her silly songs too. As if Omen’s life might not depend on how quickly we could decipher what had happened to him. As if so many other lives might not hang in the balance based on what we discovered.
But none of those things were worth putting into words, not when I knew that without her I’d have still been locked in a cage. I might not appreciate her attitude, but I’d ensure no harm came to her on my watch. If it itched at me that I wasn’t out scouring the streets for our leader right now, I had only to remind myself that the mortal had uncovered far more connections in the past day than we’d managed in the many weeks before. The fact that most of those weeks had been spent in captivity only compounded that failure.
Omen had counted on us. He’d counted on me, specifically, to defend our group and subdue any enemies we encountered. It didn’t matter what the incubus said—he was made to cajole and placate. I had failed, again, and if I didn’t correct that failing quickly, it could turn into an even greater disaster than the time before.
“Ah ha!” the lady crowed, and waved her hand rather wildly at the glowing screen of her device. “There’s a flea market in a town near here called Merry Den Market.”
I couldn’t imagine there being much of a demand among mortals to buy fleas, but she seemed satisfied with the discovery. I stirred in the chair I’d taken across from her. “You believe the people we’re looking for could be keeping Omen there?”
“I don’t know.” A thin line formed on her pale brow as she tapped one of those chopsticks against her lips. “It doesn’t look like the kind of place hunters or anyone else dealing in shadowkind would operate out of… but you can’t always tell by appearances. That could make it a perfect cover. It’s closed now, but we can go check it out tomorrow. I won’t be able to stop by Jade’s until the evening anyway.”
Ruse straightened up from where he’d been lounging against the doorframe. “A little road trip. I’m looking forward to it.”
Since we’d finished our meal, Snap had been puttering around the mortal’s living room asking the incubus about every object he encountered. Now, the devourer poked his head out, his eyes eagerly wide. “Road trip? Does that mean we’ll take one of those… cars?”
The lady grimaced. “I don’t have one. Not much need for it when you’re living downtown—and you can make stealthier getaways on foot. I actually never even got my license.” She looked vaguely embarrassed about this admission, as if there were any honor in burning gas through a metal shell to make wheels spin.
“I suppose it’s too much to hope that there might be horses we can make use of?” I said.
Her mouth twitched, because apparently she found that remark amusing as well. “Sorry, but no. It looks like there’s a bus that should drop us off right outside, though.”
“Should we ever find ourselves with a car of some sort, I can manage to drive,” Ruse offered. “I may even be able to help with the finding one part.”
She shot him a skeptical glance, still smiling. “You mean you’d seduce someone into giving us theirs?”
He spread his hands with a smirk in return. “I’d rather think of it as reminding them of the potential generosity in their nature.”
I shifted in my seat again, tamping down on my irritation. The incubus never took anything all that seriously either. His skill at reading and manipulating emotions would have