Chewie settled down, pillowing his head on her foot after giving it a consoling lick. “You smelled bad,” he muttered. “And you kept crying on me and getting my fur all wet. But you grew on me.”
“See,” she said. “You might like Kesh if you got to know him better. The couple of times he’s been here, you barely spoke to him.”
“He was too damned charming. I don’t trust charming people; they’re always up to no good.”
“Well, that’s not proof of anything,” Beka said stoutly. “And neither is a vague description that could be any of a dozen people I’ve met since I moved here. I asked Kesh if he was involved and he swore he wasn’t. I’m not going to believe that he has anything to do with this until I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
“Fine,” Gregori said, his tone mild. “Then come with us tonight when we go to this dock we were told of. If our renegade shows up, you can tell us once and for all if it is this Kesh or not. And either way, we will have him, and you can present him to the Queen.”
“Alive or dead, your choice,” Alexei added generously.
“Fine,” Beka agreed. “But how do you know that your informant didn’t just go running off to warn the man he spoke to you about as soon as you left?”
Alexei gazed innocently at the ceiling. “We might possibly have found a deep hole to drop him in. You know, temporarily. Just until we took care of this business.”
At Beka’s startled look, Gregori added, “Don’t worry, Beka. We’ll go back and fetch him out later.”
“If we don’t get busy and forget,” Alexei said with a laugh. “He really was a very nasty creature.”
Beka sighed. This wasn’t turning out exactly the way she’d planned. But at least after tonight, she’d know, for better or for worse. She only hoped that Chewie was wrong, and it didn’t turn out that her one friend was really her enemy after all.
*
“IT’S TOO BAD Mikhail isn’t here,” Alexei said in what passed for a whisper with him. It wasn’t very quiet, but so far, no one had come anywhere near the bluff where they were situated, well above the dock, but with a clear view and an easy path they could use to descend upon the area if their guy ever showed. “He’d love this part. Skulking is one of his favorite things. Although I’ve never understood how he manages to hide so well while wearing white from head to toe.”
“Hmm,” Gregori muttered in his much softer voice. “I don’t understand what is keeping him. It isn’t like Day to miss a party. Or to let down a Baba Yaga when one needs him.”
Beka nodded. She was starting to get worried about their missing Rider too. But at the moment, she had much more urgent matters on her mind. Please don’t be Kesh, she thought. Please don’t be Kesh.
She’d already lost Marcus. She didn’t think she could handle losing Kesh too. Even if she didn’t even really want him. She was so confused. Maybe she just didn’t want to have been that wrong about someone she cared for.
“Look,” Gregori said, pointing one slim finger down toward the road. A Mercedes SUV came slowly down the rutted path that led toward the deserted warehouse. It paused briefly by the dock itself, where a medium-sized man wearing expensive clothes and a disgruntled expression climbed out. He looked around and appeared even unhappier at not seeing whatever or whoever he was expecting, then opened the back of his vehicle and half rolled, half carried two canisters onto the splintery wooden surface. They weren’t particularly large, but they must have been heavy, if his muttered grunts and curses were anything to go by.
He waited there for another long moment, then climbed back into his vehicle and backed it partway up the path again, obviously preparing to wait in greater comfort, or perhaps not wanting to be in the company of the canisters for any longer than was necessary. Or both.
“Is that him?” Beka whispered. She felt a brief burst of relief; that guy looked nothing like Kesh. He was too old, for one thing, and too pudgy to ever be mistaken for Kesh’s whipcord slimness. Maybe Chewie had been wrong after all.
Gregori shook his head, one finger to his lips to remind them to be quiet. His reply was barely more than a breath on the quiet night air. “Not him. Must be he is meeting our guy.”
As if on cue, a low sound cut through the silence. Little more than a mechanical purr, it heralded the arrival of a glossy black motorboat, low-slung and fancy, like the ones used by smugglers and pirates on bad TV shows. Maybe it was that kind of association that made Beka imagine an ominous, dangerous look to the boat and its occupant. But maybe not. A shiver ran down her spine, for all that the night was warm and pleasant.
Next to her, she could feel Alexei growl happily, always more comfortable with action than with waiting, but Gregori put a restraining hand on his gigantic bicep.