It wasn’t until they were nearly at the apartment that it occurred to her that she could have simply refused. She felt a flush of shame. Not that it would have helped much—Fiona knew where Lucareoth worked, and there was no way he could avoid going to work. But it would have been the right thing to do.
When they stepped out of the elevator, she stopped her mother. “What are you planning to do? About Luke, I mean?”
“I’m not going to stake him through the heart, if that’s what you’re worried about,” her mother laughed, and then paused. “No, you’re actually worried about that.”
“He didn’t ask to get stranded here,” Morgan said. “I know what you do to threats. I offered him sanctuary; I’m not going to let you hurt him.”
Fiona raised an eyebrow as they each contemplated the likelihood of Morgan stopping her, if she wanted to hurt Lucareoth. “I said I’d ignore the issue for now, and I’m going to. But what were you planning to do if I didn’t?”
“… Pull the fire alarm?”
“Let’s not scare your neighbors,” Fiona said. “I’ll swear by the moon’s pull on my blood that I will do him no harm this day. Unless he starts it.”
That would have to do. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t have a better idea at the moment. She nodded and then continued down the hall to her door.
“Nobody freak out, OK?” Morgan said as she opened the door, realizing that if the universe was feeling particularly ironic, it would be to an empty apartment.
But no. Gisele looked up from her burrito, visibly alarmed. “You realize that’s probably one of the worst possible ways to come in a door, right?”
Morgan continued to open the door, revealing Luke frozen with the burrito halfway to his mouth.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” Fiona said, looking around and not focusing straight on Luke. She’d been to Morgan’s apartment exactly once before, when she and Gisele had first moved in. Morgan had grudgingly appreciated the wards that dissuaded uninvited guests, but she wasn’t sure whether she was grateful or resentful that Fiona had never shown any interest in returning.
Rix barked happily and trotted over to the table to see if anyone had dropped any chips.
“Ms. Blackwater. How nice to see you again,” Luke said weakly. At least he was in human guise.
“Luke Harrioff,” her mother said, sweeping in and shutting the door behind them both. “Shall we try this again, this time with the real answers?”
Luke looked at Morgan, frantic and betrayed. Murder flapped over and helped himself to a piece of carne asada thathad fallen out of Luke’s burrito. After a moment’s thought, the bird plucked a chip from the pile and dropped it to his new accomplice below.
“Murder, stop that, we both know you haven’t washed your beak. Go wash,” Fiona said, shooing the bird off to the sink. “Now, let’s do this the short way—I know most of it. Right, Morgan?”
Morgan looked helplessly at the white stone she still held. “Most of it, yes.”
She set the stone down, defiant far too late. Luke recoiled from them both, his eyes darting to the window. She sighed. “It’s OK. She promised to look the other way for the moment. Didn’t you, Mother?”
Fiona held up her hands. “Truce. Let’s try to get this apocalypse off the table before we deal with immigration irregularities, shall we? But maybe you should hand the rock to your boyfriend.”
“Demons can’t lie, Mother,” Morgan snapped.
“Oh, really?” Fiona looked intrigued.
“Wow,” Gisele said, after swallowing her nopales. “This is bringing ‘awkward lunch with the parents’ to whole new levels, and I should know. Hi, Ms. Blackwater.”
“It’s nice to see you again, Gisele,” her mother said, her eyes still trained on Luke, waiting for him to bolt. Morgan wasn’t sure what her mother would do, in that case. “I keep telling you to call me Fiona.”
“Nope, still feels weird,” Gisele said, and took another bite of her burrito. Morgan noticed that she’d moved to the edge of the chair, ready to try to help if needed.
“I swore to my daughter and I’ll swear to you too: I mean you no harm this day,” Fiona said, laying her hands flat onthe table. Murder turned on the faucet, jumped on the soap pump once, dipped his beak in the puddle of soap, and then fastidiously rinsed off his beak. He repeated with his feet, for good measure. Clean, he glided back to the table. Fiona sighed. “Can he have a few of your chips?”
“Looks like he wants to feed them to Rix, and Rix knows he’s not supposed to have human food,” Gisele observed mildly. “Do you have any spare change?”
“A trade?” A smile flashed across Fiona’s face. She rummaged in a pocket and dropped a few nickels on the floor. Rix slurped at them happily and only left minor acid burns. She claimed a few chips and crushed them into crumbs for Murder. “Now. The way I see it, the most urgent issue is getting Valefar out of New York before we have a war on our hands. Secondary is this ridiculous plan your boss has—when is it all supposed to start happening?”
“The product’s supposed to launch in time for Christmas,” Morgan said.
“We’ve got a little time on that. So the next priority can be getting Luke to safety.”
