Deciphering what the gods said, however, was another matter.
Jess leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "Tell me exactly what her mother said."
"She said that there's an ill wind coming and that you should guard your back. Lionel didn't fail to make it home before dawn. He was murdered and that his killer, a human leading a Daimon guard, was on the hunt for more of his kind."
Lionel was another Dark-Hunter who'd been assigned to Las Vegas. He died three nights ago, after he'd failed to make it to shelter before the sun rose-at least that was what they'd been told. Immortality had its price, and while the things that could kill them were few, those few were an ugly way to die.
Jess rubbed his thumb against his brow. "And the gods spoke that plainly?"
Andy hedged. "Well ... not exactly. You know how they are."
Yeah, they always spoke in riddles that were tougher to unknot than a two-headed cobra. "So how-?"
"It's taken them days to decipher it, but she swears she's right and that you need to watch your back."
That, he'd been doing since the day the goddess Artemis resurrected him. Bart had tutored him well on guarding every angle of his body and staying alert no matter what or who. Jess wasn't about to ever be a victim again.
"Andy-"
"Don't Andy me. I believe her. She's one of the best Oracles we have."
He was right about that. But ...
"We all make mistakes." And Jess had made more than his fair share.
A tic started in Andy's jaw. It was obvious he wanted to throttle Jess, but he knew better than to even try.
"Fine," he said, finally relenting on the matter. "Whatever. You're the one they're after, so it's none of my business. Plenty of other Dark-Hunters to work for. They're probably a lot less irritating, too." Then he changed the subject entirely. "I repaired your tracker and phone." He held Jess's iPhone out to him. "Try not to get it wet tonight."
"Not my fault the Daimon I was chasing decided to run through a water fountain." Damnedest part about living here in Vegas, there were huge fountains all over the place, and for some reason, Daimons seemed to think Dark-Hunters were allergic to water. Or maybe it was their way to piss them off before getting killed.
Andy ignored his comment. "Mom overnighted some of her oatmeal cookies for you. They're in the jar by the sink." He pointed to the container that looked like a Conestoga wagon, which was really out of place in the commercial-grade kitchen designed to feed a large army.
The thought of those cookies perked him up a lot. Cecilia made the best in the world. That was what he missed most about Andy's pa working for him. C used to have a fresh batch cooling on the stove every evening when he came upstairs for coffee.
Andy continued his report. "I picked up your laundry and hung it in the hall closet. I checked with the company, and your horses will be transported out here next week from your ranch, so you can quit pouting every time you pass the saddles."
Wow, he had no idea he'd done that. Huh ... he'd have to keep an eye on his expressions. He hated to be that obvious to anyone.
Andy gestured toward the door. "The boots you ordered are in the box on the hall table, as are the throwing knives Kell sent to replace the ones you broke the other night. I couldn't get the black Stetson reblocked, so I have a new one on order. Your bike is fully gassed, and Sin has offered all of you free valet parking at his casino while you hunt. He'll have his staff leave the bike parked in front so that you can grab it and go when you're ready to head home, and if you get trapped in the city and can't make it back here before dawn, you can hole up in one of his rooms-they'll have a key at the concierge with your name on it. Is there anything else you need?"
That was the best part of Andy. Like his father, he was as efficient as the devil's desk clerk. "Nope. Can't think of anything."
"All right. I'll have my cell phone if you need anything." The boy always said that.
Jess moved toward the cookies. "Have a good night."
Andy nodded before he went to the door. He paused as if he wanted to say something else-then he quickly took his exit to head to his apartment over the garage. For some reason, as the kid left, Jess had an image of Andy as a little boy chasing after his father. He could still see Andy's chubby cheeks, wide eyes, and freckled face. Hear him asking in that youthful tone if Jess would teach him how to ride, and then picking the boy up from the dirt the first time Andy was thrown by the Shetland pony Jess had bought for him. Little booger had gotten right back up, dusted himself off, and then climbed into the saddle like a trouper.
Now that little boy was a man strangers thought was older than Jess.
That was the hardest part of being immortal. Watching people he cared about be kids, grow old, and die while he never changed. And just like with Andy, he'd known the boy's father from the moment Ed was born. The Taylor family had been his Squires from the beginning of his Dark-Hunter life.
Even so, he'd kept a wall between him and them. Never letting them in too close. At least not until Andy. He didn't know why, but that little shit had wormed his way past Jess's best defenses. In many ways, Andy was like his son.
There was only one other person in his long life that Jess had felt that way about.
He winced at another memory he wished he could purge.