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It’s shocking he didn’t get shot by any of the hundreds of people he arrested.
I gaze mournfully into my second empty mug. “I regretfully agree with Darius.”
He sighs with relief. “My lady sees reason.”
“Unless there’s available room at the Conservatory…?” I look at Flint, hope in my eyes.
“Not without displacing students.” He gives me an apologetic shrug. “We’re already lucky that Savannah wants to commute from the warehouse.”
A pleased smile spreads over Darius’s face. “It appears we are stuck here for a while longer.”
“Try to look less smug.” I stand and drop my mugs on the table before heading into our bedroom to grab my clothes for the day. “I’m still considering getting a separate room.”
Sharpe’s voice follows me into the bathroom. “What did I miss?”
“Just a minor disagreement over where Orianna should sleep.”
Annoyed that Flint doesn’t sound the least bit repentant for his familiar’s actions, I slam the door, but it slows at the last moment to softly close.
Gah, I hate this hotel!
Coffee improved my sour mood, so when I report to our office later that morning, I feel less murdery as I pick up my route for the day and collect my assigned partner.
Lucky for Johannsson, Sharpe’s on duty to buddy up with Mayn, which leaves me paired with Webb. If I had to spend one more day listening to Johannsson moan and groan, I’d drop him into a trapdoor leading to a demon’s lair.
In the weapons’ room, Webb checks her sword for dings before sliding it into the scabbard at her hip. “Ready for another scorcher today? The news said it would be in the hundreds again.”
“Oh, goody.” I clip my skull badge to the front of my belt, next to my baton.
Webb chuckles. “We’ll be wishing for it come winter, though. Sometimes, I miss my patrol car.”
She can’t miss it that much; otherwise, she would have gone back to working under Bailey when the JTFPI closed.
“I’m personally hoping the Bone Yard gets another expansion.” She tightens her hairband. “Wider streets would allow us to get golf carts to use within the walls.”
In the process of checking my gear, I pause to look at her. “What?”
“You can get really nice ones nowadays.” She tucks her shirt in a little tighter. “My dad bought one after he moved to a seniors-only community, and it has all the bells and whistles. It would make hauling in perps easier if we just strapped them to the backseat. What do you think?”
An image of Nickodemus tied to the back of a golf cart, his stringy hair flowing in the breeze while his second mouth shouted obscenities draws a laugh from me. “We should bring it up. With the Grave Yard sector, it’s a long walk now.”
“Right.” Webb mimes propping her arm on the back of an imaginary seat as she drives through town. “Beings would bribe us to give them rides, too.”
Disapproving, I turn to give her a hard stare. “Ask Sharpe for a raise if you’re tight on cash.”
She waves that away. “It’s all about making connections here, and part of that is bribes.”
I reluctantly agree. Demons operate more like mobsters and need to be handled in the same way.
“I wish Sharpe had run for mayor. Then we’d be getting all the perks.” She stamps her feet in her boots. “I wrote his name on the ballot, because fuck our other options. Why is it that the people who can afford to run are all assholes?”
Before I can respond, loud cheers come from outside, and the air fills with what sounds like gunshots.
Grabbing a baton, I bolt out of the building, Webb right behind me, only to come up short on the sidewalk.
Beings of all kinds march through the streets, waving streamers and lighting off fireworks. The burn of gunpowder forms a haze, and I flinch when a bottle rocket whizzes past my ear.
Webb lowers her sword, her bewildered gaze locked on the parade. “What on earth…?”
