“Whatever it takes to keep people safe. That’s what’s important.”
“Even if it means they’ll have to waste perfectly good energy, not to mention cash, to make it happen.”
“Money doesn’t go with you when you die.”
“True, but if you’re alive it’s best to have it on hand.”
“So start budgeting. You’re a smart girl. You can stretch your resources if you have to.” He smiled and strode past me. “If you have anything else to practice, I suggest you hurry up. I have another class coming in a few minutes. As much as I like you, I can’t stand around and hold your hand. Get the hell out of my dojo.”
“Consider me gone,” I called out to his departing back.
I took a deep breath, anxious and excited. A bloodsucking knife was great, a gun was even better, but learning how to use other tools of the trade meant I could wield common things as weapons, turning them from simple to dangerous. After all, ass was better kicked when you had Yoda moves and an arsenal at your disposal.
Just call me a Jedi ninja in training.
Chapter Eight
When I left the gym I decided it was time to hit my apartment for the shower I desperately needed. I’d taken the amulet off and placed it in my bag before I’d entered the dojo, which meant I was sore in all sorts of places. The blood Disco had given me helped soothed the aches, but being tossed around by more seasoned members of my class—thrown to the ground and contorted in all kinds of strange ways—made my muscles scream for the steady thrum of hot water on skin.
I’d just managed to toss on fresh clothes following my shower—shit kickers, a tight black T-shirt, and skinny jeans—when I heard a knock on the front door. The sound was unexpected and put me on alert. I’d already met with Sonja, Deena wouldn’t stop by without calling first, and I couldn’t think of anyone who would want to come by my shabby apartment for a chat.
I glanced at the duffel on my bed, contemplating if I should get the amulet, when another knock—louder this time—made the decision for me. Whoever had come calling knew I was inside. I slid the necklace over my head and crept to the door, holding my breath.
“Rhiannon, open up!” Goose snapped and the pounding on the door became constant.
I exhaled, shaking my head. Ethan McDaniel P.I. had lousy fucking timing.
Goose didn’t exchange pleasantries when I opened the door. He shouldered past me and strode into my apartment. To my surprise, his hair was messy and his clothing was wrinkled. Very un-Ethan-like. “After what happened yesterday, I expected you to come find me immediately this morning. I thought you’d understand how serious this is.”
I couldn’t tell him about my meeting with Sonja. There were some things it was best that Goose not know—demon conjuring included. “What can I say?” I said, brushing the comment off, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m slowly coming to awareness.”
“Don’t be a smartass. We have to talk.”
“I can see that.” I closed the door and locked it. Yes, it was stupid locking the door considering the things I managed to piss off could probably get inside anyway, but some security was better than none.
“Where’s the knife?” He turned in a circle, looking around my small apartment as though he had x-ray vision and could locate exactly what he was looking for.
“It’s not here.”
“It’s not in Miami. You wouldn’t put it in a place that far away. I’m not stupid.”
“You’re right.” I walked past him, into the living room. “It’s not in Miami.”
I gasped when he snagged my arm and spun me around. Goose was never rude, and he was never hands on. That meant something had set him off.
Not good.