said Bolt. "The woman who gets up at night with my kids, she's the only woman for me."
She smiled at him, wan with fatigue, but pleased nonetheless at what he said. "Look at him, this is my romancer," she said. "The swan could pick me up, I don't think it could fly. God never made no swan that big."
Quentin could hear how she exaggerated the Bronx in her speech as she modestly refused her husband's worshipful words. A sweet woman, a good woman. And Bolt did love her. Too bad how he was in thrall to a witch whose daughter now had control of her and of the men she happened to possess. If Rowena wanted him, he'd walk away from Leda without a backward glance. And yet he'd know that he had done it. Could he bear living with that? Roz certainly wouldn't care; would Rowena?
They finished the chocolate. Quentin refused to talk about his plans. He didn't have any. He couldn't afford to have any. Drive to the rest home? Stay here waiting for Roz to arrive?
Leda went back to bed after rinsing the mugs. Bolt showed Quentin to his room. Not a couch, a fold-out bed, nicely made. A TV with a remote. "Not the Ritz," said Bolt.
"Beats Motel Six, though," said Quentin.
"Good night, then. You won't need no alarm in this house. We'll keep the door closed, but the pitter-patter of little feet will probably sound like World War II."
"I won't mind."
Bolt turned to go.
"Mike. Would I be wasting my time if I asked you for the loan of a gun?"
"You don't need a gun. Guns just go off and hurt people."
"You know what I'm up against."
"You can't shoot women who don't leave footprints, Quentin."
"The ones I'll be with, they leave footprints."
"Have you ever fired a gun?" asked Bolt.
"I promise you I won't shoot it around any civilians."
"What's to stop them from taking it away from you and shooting you with it?"
"I've got to have something, Mike."
"I'll get you something for self-defense. But don't even think about lethal force, Quentin. If there's any lethal force needed, I'll do it."
"You plan to be there?"
"Wouldn't miss it."
"But will you be a free man, Mike?"
"What do you mean?"
"Rowena owns you, Mike. Her mother said so."
"Her mother's lying," said Bolt cheerfully. "I owe her a lot, but what she says about Rowena, you just got to consider the source."
No point in arguing with him. Maybe Mike would be an asset, maybe he wouldn't. But since Quentin refused to think of any plan besides to wing it, he didn't let himself consider the question.
"Aw, don't look so glum, Quentin. Just think - you've been seduced by a succubus and now you get to have a showdown between the witches and the macho guys."
"Sweet of you to include me with the macho guys," said Quentin.
"That's what it means to be... pals." Bolt grinned.
"Not just guys, but pals." Quentin laid his hand on his heart. "I'm touched."
Bolt shook his head. "Yeah, well, just remember that if one of us has to die in that house tomorrow, I sure hope it's you."
"I know Leda wouldn't have it any other way," said Quentin.
Bolt closed the door behind him as he left. Quentin undressed, and as he crawled onto the creaking, sagging fold-out bed with the paper-thin mattress he knew it would be the worst night of his life. He was asleep in three minutes.
In the morning, Quentin pulled on his clothes and staggered into the kitchen, where Leda was making pancakes and slapping them down on the kids' plates. "Don't you want to use the bathroom before you eat?" she asked.
"If the pancakes are ready now," he said, "I'm not going off to the bathroom and letting these guys eat them all."
The kids laughed and Leda introduced them and they ate breakfast together. Not until they had charged off to school did he realize that he hadn't seen Bolt this morning. Why hadn't he noticed? It was incredible that he hadn't noticed.
Roz, what are you doing?
"Where's Mike?" he asked, dreading the answer.
"Oh, he had some errands he had to run. He told me to tell you that's the burden of the working man. Also I'm supposed to give you this." She handed him a small spray can. Nothing was written on it by the manufacturer, but a label saying "MixPolDep" had been affixed to it. "It's Mace. The real thing, not pepper spray. Tear gas. He says don't use it outdoors because it's bound to