“I didn’t know he was there until he spoke,” Binx said. “I didn’t catch his scent.”
“I should hope not,” Considine said. “It’d be a dark day before I get caught out by a mere wizard and a shifter so young she’s practically a kitten.”
“No offense taken,” Binx said.
“That’s a shame,” Considine said. “I very much meant to be offensive. Are the lot of you task force people all so no nonsense and unflappable or is it just the ones that work with Slayer?”
“Just the ones that work with Blood. Since she’s always stuck being a team lead, Sarge gives her the best team he can manage,” April said.
“Don’t tell him stuff like that,” I said. “Also, we still don’t have team leads.”
This was the first time I was hearing this—that Sarge was cherry picking who I worked with.
I’d thought I never worked with Clarence because he was afraid of me, and my stealthier fighting style wasn’t a great match with Medium-Sized Robert. Now that I thought of it, I rarely worked with Juggernaut, too, and he was a wild card in our team.
I actually worked most often with Grove. While an outsider might think Grove was useless, he was our team’s only medic. Despite his obsession with poisons, he brewed potent healing potions.
“Team leads are totally a thing, that’s why your team is always named after you,” April said.
“Makes sense,” Considine said. “So, you’re finished with the wizards, right? Entertain me.”
Yep. Entertainment is absolutely why he decided he was my self-appointed backup. Not that I’m complaining—that was handy. Perhaps it’s even a sign that he won’t randomly attack me?
He hadn’t hurt me since we fought together to take down the giant snake in September. Not that I trusted this cease arms or him. But this was surprising proof that he was decent—if not choosy—backup.
“I’m working,” I said, careful to keep my voice flat. “And now I have to make a report about everything Gideon said.”
Considine sighed. “You know, your job is very inconvenient for me.”
“I apologize,” I said—I didn’t even have to work at my acidic tone this time since I really felt it. “I understand that as an independently wealthy vampire, who spends most of his time stalking entertainment sources, it’s a struggle.”
“You make me sound like a degenerate who knows nothing of society,” Considine complained.
“Yes,” I said, which was probably not a great response for my self-preservation, but I got the impression Considine didn’t mind.
He opened his mouth to respond, but his cellphone chimed, and he pulled it out to study the screen. I could see just enough of his jawline to notice that a muscle twitched—with irritation, maybe—and he immediately started tapping out a reply to whatever message he’d received.
Since he didn’t seem inclined towards violence tonight, I took a risk and turned my back to him so I could address April and Binx. “House Tellier must be involved with the fire. Gideon’s official story for the timeline was that he and the other wizards who came to the library were hanging out in the park nearest the library. When they realized how many firetrucks were going to the library, they decided to act.”
“And they got there after you, when you were coming from downtown?” April asked.
“Yes. The story didn’t match the timeline.” I paused, then added, “Strangely, even when I picked at his timeline Gideon didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t get violent until I asked him about his House’s sudden bend towards donations for humans.”
April frowned. “That was the part he reacted to?”
“Yes.”
“Weird,” Binx said.
“At least it seems like there’s enough inconsistencies for Sarge to launch an official investigation,” April said. “We should call it in—he might want us to get back to the Cloisters instead of continuing on our patrol.”
I pressed my lips together struggling to voice what had made me so uneasy.
House Tellier was up to something, but Gideon hadn’t been on guard until I asked about funds.
It seems misplaced considering the situation.
“It is to my greatest sorrow that I must leave,” Considine abruptly announced.
I started to turn back towards him, then froze when he snaked his arms around me and pulled my back flush against his chest in what was a much closer embrace than I’d experienced probably since I moved to Magiford.
I was so shocked, my defensive training didn’t immediately kick in. Instead, I stood there like an idiot, confused.
Considine was taller than me, so he had to bend over a little to curl around me and rest his chin on top of my hood-covered head. “I regret that we didn’t have the chance to play tonight—your job is an utter time-suck, you know.” He squeezed me— not painfully, most likely he was trying to feel for any hidden weapons I might have.
What bothered me about the experience was that my danger instincts weren’t activating. Yes, I was freaked out by it all, but he’d moved in so fast that it should have lit every nerve in my body on fire.
What is going on?
I felt when he adjusted the position of his chin on my head, but it wasn’t until I sensed his fingers play with the edges of my gloves that my instincts finally flared to life.
“Off.” I stepped out of his embrace and pulled my gun with the same movement.
“Easy, Slayer.” Considine held his hands up as he took a step backwards. “You might hurt me.” He laughed at the ridiculous idea and then—ignoring my gun—nonchalantly turned around and swaggered off into the darkness.
I hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was wise, until my good manners kicked in. “Ruin.”
“Hm?”
“Thank you.”
Considine swung around to face me again, his already tall frame straightening in a way that said he was surprised. “For?”
Please don’t regret this. Please!
I took a deep breath. “For being my backup.”
Considine was unnaturally still for several heartbeats until he cracked a smile that I could barely see through the shadows of his hood. “It was my pleasure, Slayer,” he purred. He set off again at a saunter. When he got a block down he waved a hand, then disappeared around the corner.
Only then did I reluctantly holster my gun.
“What was that?” Binx asked.
“Thanking him?” I asked.
“No, him self-appointing himself to cover your back.”
“I don’t know,” I honestly said. “But it was very… odd.”
“He seems like he’s growing fond of you, but there is something else underneath it,” April said. “I hang out with vampires fairly often, and he’s way too… something.”
I checked my gloves but while he’d fiddled with them he hadn’t tugged them off my hands or revealed any of my skin, and I didn’t sense anything magical so he couldn’t have planted a charm. “He’s amused,” I said, my certainty making it easier to talk. “It’s like there’s a good joke and only he knows it.”
“Yeah,” Binx agreed.
“He’s too happy to be thinking emotionally of you,” April agreed. “Vampires—long lived ones—don’t like it when they start getting attached to people. It gives them a weakness.”