“Maybe.”
Tate gestured over his shoulder. “I better get back to it. Let me know if you uncover something.”
“You, too.”
As soon as Tate was gone, Ash turned back to Nick. “Do me a favor.”
“Don’t lick your seat belt?”
Ash’s expression was total confusion. “Huh? Where did that randomness come from?”
“When I was a kid, I did that once in my aunt Mennie’s new car. Now every time I get in her car and she’s driving, she says do me a favor, and that’s what always follows after it. Sorry. Habit.”
“Okay. If your bizarre flashbacks are over, can I have your attention for a second?”
Nick straightened up. “Absolutely.”
“All right. Keep your eyes open, and don’t go anywhere alone until we figure out what’s happening and why someone is killing fourteen-year-old boys.”
“You got it.”
Ash started toward the body, then seemed to think better of it. “Let’s get you to Kyrian’s.”
“Fine with me.” He liked the idea of being safe and alive.
Ash waved to Tate to let him know they were leaving before he led Nick back to the gleaming black Porsche. Nick got in and buckled his seat belt while Ash started the car.
They didn’t speak at all while Ash took him the rest of the way to the Garden District, where row after row of antebellum homes paid tribute to and housed some of the wealthiest people in New Orleans.
Man, the size of Kyrian’s place never failed to impress him. It was one heck of a house. In the classical Greek revival style, it kind of reminded Nick of a wedding cake, what with the wraparound porches, the ornate flourishes, and white color. Ash opened the gate, then parked in front of the marble steps that led up to the front door.
Nick got out and headed up the stairs. When he started to ring the bell, Ash materialized beside him and pushed the door open.
He arched a brow at that. “Were you raised in a barn? You don’t just walk into someone’s house.”
Ash laughed. “I have an open invitation to enter whenever I’m here.”
“Yeah, but what if he’s naked or something?”
Ash led him into the foyer. “I’ve known Kyrian for over two thousand years, and I can honestly say that I have never once caught him naked in his living room.” The door closed behind them without Ash or Nick touching it—something that always unnerved Nick when Ash did it. “Besides, Rosa’s still here. I know he’s not walking around bare-assed with her on duty.”
“Oh yeah.” There was that.
As if she’d heard them come in, Rosa entered the hall from the direction of the kitchen. “Ah, Acheron, good to see you again.”
“ Hola, Rosa. Is Kyrian upstairs still?”
“Sí.”
While Ash headed up, Nick went toward Rosa with a hopeful look on his face. “Do I smell something … sweet?”
She laughed. “You live on your stomach, mi’jo. Go, there are cookies waiting for you.”
Nick gave her a Roman salute. “Rosa, I am your eternal servant. So long as you feed me cookies, you may ask and I will do without any complaint.”
“Good. I have a list of your chores on the counter beside the plate.”
Ah, man … Nick bit back a whine. This was his job, and he wouldn’t complain. At least not to Rosa, maker of great food.
Kyrian was another matter. He was subject to the full whiny teenager moodiness.
Nick headed into the kitchen and grabbed a cookie before he glanced over his list. Chewing the cookie, he scratched at his chin.
1. Replace upstairs hall bathroom lightbulb.
2. Get online and research Ferragamo shoes, then e-mail someone named Kell to see if he could convert Ferragamos into weapons.
3. Order a replacement coat for the one that was torn. (See closet for coat.) Make sure it matches exactly.
4. Wash cars.
5. Take out trash for Rosa.
6. Most important, don’t bitch.
Hmmm …
“Rosa?”
She arched a brow as she came into the kitchen. “Sí?”
“How many cars does Kyrian own?”
She paused to consider it.
Glen Cook
Mignon F. Ballard
L.A. Meyer
Shirley Hailstock
Sebastian Hampson
Tielle St. Clare
Sophie McManus
Jayne Cohen
Christine Wenger
Beverly Barton