Madhouse (Cal Leandros, #3)

Robin met that gaze with an unwavering one of his own. He was either remembering something or doing his damnedest not to. "Poetic." He stood. "But nothing that could pertain to this, I'm sure."

I could see Niko wasn't buying it, and neither was I. But what we believed didn't matter, because the conversation was over. Goodfellow made some noise about how he'd think on it, mull it over, keep his head down, and thanks so very much for our input, care, and concern, and he was out the door. And there I sat, leg still dangling.

"Your ride on the debauchery express is leaving without you," Niko informed me blandly.

"It looks that way." I heaved myself up and grabbed my jacket.

"You're positive about this?" he asked as I shrugged into it. "You should let Georgina make her own decision when it comes to this. She's stronger than you give her credit for."

"I know she is." I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets and curved my lips without humor. "Hell, she's stronger than me. She can live with the uncertainty. I can't."

He dipped his chin and said only, "You're strong enough, just in all the mulishly obstinate wrong ways." Tilting his head toward the door, he continued. "Tell Goodfellow if he gets you in trouble, he can look forward to a few more attempts on his life."

"Come on, Cyrano," I said lightly, "people get laid all the time. What could go wrong?"

More to the point…what could go right?

Not a goddamn thing.

The first stop was a penthouse apartment on the Upper West Side. Other than the door being painted black, it was an impressive place. Doorman. Soft, deep carpeting in the halls with subdued lighting. Very pricey. I looked around, feeling a little out of place. "You're sure she won't know I'm half Auphe?"

"If she does, she won't mind," Robin assured me. "She's quite open-minded, a wonderful species, totally without judgment. And they absolutely cannot breed with Auphe, or humans for that matter. In fact, they lay eggs, which requires fertilization at a much later date. She looks very human, though, so don't pull a groin muscle worrying over that one. I know you're new to the nonhuman dating scene." He checked his watch. "Good. We're right on time." He knocked lightly on the door, then mentioned casually, "Oh, I nearly forgot. She may…may…try to eat you afterward, but it's rare. Only if she finds you very, very charming, and with your personality I think we know what the odds are on that."

On that note, I turned and headed back down the hall away from the door … at a slightly faster clip than when I'd approached it.

The next stop was Central Park and the lake. Goodfellow stood on the shore, careful of his champagne-scrubbed shoes. "Lyrlissa. She's a limnade, a lake nymph. Once again, eggs, requiring the sperm of not one but two…well, that's neither here nor there. You're good to go."

The moon had turned the water into ripples of silver against black, a spill of platinum chains against velvet. It looked beautiful. It also looked cold as hell. I crouched down and slid a finger into the water. "Huh. Is she coming out?"

"She's a lake nymph, you uneducated child. They don't do that."

"Well, here's something I don't do," I countered, irritated, "get it up in fifty-degree temperature water."

"No?" Robin frowned.

"Jesus Christ, no! At least not and keep it there. I might be only half human, but the dick? That's all human, okay? It has its limits."

"As if you haven't suffered enough." He shook his head and squeezed my shoulder sympathetically. "Perhaps it's for the best. You would have to hold your breath for the duration, but I figured with your phenomenal lack of experience with the female of any species, you could manage to do that for the forty-five seconds that it would take for you to finish anyway."

"You are such an ass." I scowled.

"I do my utmost to live up to expectations." He grinned, before turning away from the water. "All right. Third time's the charm, which is apt, because that's her name. Charm."

"And she doesn't live in freezing water or will try to eat me?" I asked suspiciously.

"The most she will do is plait flowers in your hair. She's a leimakid, another kind of nymph. Meadow. Grass, trees, flowers." We walked up the path until we hit the Great Lawn. "And reproductively speaking, she spores. However, practice safe sex. There have been cases of moss growing on the north side of the wood afterward, if you get my drift. And termites are not your friend either."

"Thanks for making the experience so painless," I growled.

He slapped my back. "Goodfellow Enterprises— we aim to please." Then he drifted back into the trees. "I was never one much for monogamy," his voice floated out, "but…it's not too late to change your mind. If anyone is worth it, it would be Georgina."