More than dead weight. That said, I don’t trust magic, or magic users. You start flinging around curses like a dick in a locker room and I’m bound to get a little twitchy.”
“I may not be kickass in a fight, but I am crafty. I know how to hold my own around witches and warlocks,” she said, slightly defensive.
“That’s good, because if you expect me to save you from everything, you won’t last long.” When all I could find was stale crackers and moldy bread, I let out a sigh. Giving up on my search for food, I pulled one of my kitchen drawers open and rummaged through it.
I popped two pills from a plastic package and held my hand out.
To her credit, she didn’t question me after her show of trust. She simply took the two pills and swallowed them down, along with the rest of her smoothie.
“Got any food?” she asked, her stomach letting out a loud gurgle in protest.
“Unfortunately, no. We’re going to need to go out for that. The medicine should help dry you up, though,” I said as she sniffled.
“Thank you for that.”
My only response was to retreat into my bedroom and close the door behind me. I strapped on several more weapons and donned a baggy windbreaker to deal with the wind and rain. Stuffing my feet in my now dry boots and grabbing an extra jacket, I stepped back into the living room.
Nathalie was wearing her own pair of leather boots. At the sight of the jacket in my hand, her face brightened.
I handed it over to her silently and then motioned for her to walk ahead of me.
She went for the door and paused, looking at me for approval.
I cursed under my breath. “This isn’t going to work if you have to ask me permission for every fucking thing you do.”
Her mouth opened, then closed, as she grasped the handle and stepped into the hall.
Her eyes automatically went to the pool of blood Anders had left on my doorstep.
“Is that—”
“Yes,” I replied, closing the door behind me. I heard the audible whir as the latch clicked and the locking mechanism on my door activated once more.
“Should we clean it up—”
“Leave it,” I said, putting a hand on her shoulder and pushing toward the stairs. “It reminds my neighbors to mind their own damn business in case any of them ever thinks about getting nosy.”
She seemed to consider that as we started down the stairs. Our steps echoed all the way to the ground floor.
“You’re a strange woman, Piper.”
One corner of my mouth curled up in a cold grin as we stepped out into the alleyway.
“You don’t even know the half of it.”
The diner smelled like a heart attack and bad life choices. I sat across from Nathalie in the dingy booth. Grime lined the edge of the table from where they’d been too lazy to use a little elbow grease over the years. The floor was checkered, and the barstools were rusted.
Our waitress walked up and dropped our food off without two words. Her too tight shirt tugging at the second button where her breasts pulled at it. She wore leggings and an apron that served little more than to further cinch her waist. Judging by the other clientele loitering about, her tips were better for it. I couldn’t fault a woman for doing what she had to do to make ends meet.
I took a swig of my water and then started in on my food.
“So,” Nathalie drawled, picking at her own dish. “Do I get to ask what Kenneth did for you to be after him all these years?”
“Not a chance in Hell.” I mashed my over easy eggs up with the cheesy hash browns. Nathalie didn’t say anything, but the twitch of her lip told me she didn’t think it looked very appetizing.
“Thought so,” she muttered, taking a bite of her pancakes. I could tell the food wasn’t to her liking, but she didn’t complain. Being a Le Fay, she probably grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth. Families like hers could afford real food that was actually good for a person. The rest of us normals had to make do with what was left, though, and while the diner atmosphere was shit, the eggs and hash browns were real. I wished I could say the same about the cheese. The slight powdery texture always gave it away.
“Do you know where to find the rest of your coven?”
“Most