Ashes of Honor: An October Daye Novel

“I’ll try.” I forced myself to smile before turning to walk through the door to the public receiving area. The sweet air of freedom hit me as soon as I was out of the working part of the station. My smile turned honest. I started for the nearest exit…and stopped, blinking.

When Officer Thornton said “my friend” was waiting for me, I’d been half-hoping he meant May. She’s legally my twin sister, thanks to some clever paperwork created by Countess April O’Leary of Tamed Lightning; she would have been the logical person for the police to call, if they were going to call anyone.

It wasn’t May.

Tybalt was standing near the center of the room with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and an uneasy expression on his face, as though he wasn’t sure what he was doing there, either. He was wearing a human disguise that turned his tabby-striped brown hair solidly black and painted round pupils in his eyes. I caught myself smiling and hastily swallowed the expression. I didn’t want to be glad to see him. I couldn’t help myself.

“Hi, Tybalt,” I said and started for the door. “Did everything get taken care of?”

His anxiety vanished in a flash, replaced by a more customary air of mild hauteur. “Once I realized you intended to spend the evening in the company of the police, I saw to it the job was properly completed. Those children will no longer be peddling poison on these streets.” He fell into step beside me. “You may show your gratitude later, in whatever way you deem fit.”

“And meeting me at the police station?”

“I thought it might prove entertaining.” He sighed. “Sadly, I am again disappointed.”

“Sorry I let you down. Maybe if you’d brought popcorn, the cops would have felt the need to step up their game.” I reached for the door leading out to the street. Tybalt slipped past me, opening it before I could. I kept walking. “I’m fine, really.”

“October…”

It was late enough that the stretch of Valencia Street outside the police station was virtually deserted. The lights were on at the local bars—last call was more than an hour away—and a few homeless people huddled in doorways or panhandled around the ATMs, but for the most part, we were alone. I still glanced around to be sure that there were no officers on the sidewalk before I said, “I’m a little dizzy, but it’s nothing some orange juice and new jeans won’t fix. How did you know I was here?”

“I saw the police take you. I couldn’t prevent it. So I dropped by your house to see whether anyone was intending to collect you.” Tybalt shrugged. “You know what they say about curiosity and cats. Your lady Fetch said she would appreciate it if I would bring you home. As I try never to argue with death omens, here I am.”

“What, May couldn’t come herself?” May is my former Fetch and current housemate. Not a normal living arrangement, even in Faerie, but she’s willing to do at least one thing I’m not: the dishes. Her girlfriend, Jazz, is a raven in her spare time.

“She was otherwise occupied.”

“Doing what?”

Tybalt ignored my question. “I offered. She accepted. I felt we could stand to spend some time actually conversing. We’ve both been rather occupied of late.”

“No, Tybalt, we haven’t been. I’ve been avoiding you. Which is a change from the way things normally go, but change is good, right?” I buried my hands in my jacket pockets. “I needed some time.”

“I know,” said Tybalt, tone suddenly sober. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. So am I.”