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He cocked one eyebrow. "You're going to attack me? Oh, that's nice."
Hesitating, I stared at him, waiting. "Then you really aren't from the Subterranean Realms? Why would Grandmother Coyote send you here?"
Morio snorted. "No, I'm not from down under, and she sent me because you obviously can't handle this situation on your own. If I'd been from the netherworlds, you'd be toast by now, and I'd be feasting on your bones." He patted the seat beside him. "Now, sit down and quit being a drama queen!"
Of all the arrogant, smarmy—I paused when I looked into his upturned face. He was patiently waiting for me to do as told. I wanted to stomp off into the kitchen; however, this situation was going from bad to worse, and we needed all the help we could get. I sat down, sighing.>"Won't you sit down, beautiful lady?" he asked.
I accepted his invitation, sliding into the opposite seat. As I cradled my wineglass in my hands, it dawned on me that this was no chance meeting. He'd been waiting for me, though I didn't know how or why. After a moment's silence the air around him rippled. Magic, all right.
"Grandmother Coyote said you might be able to use my help," he said abruptly. As he blinked, his chocolate eyes turned a startling shade of topaz.
Bingo. I knew I sensed something familiar about him. His scent was thick with musk, but beneath the masculine odor, I could detect the subtle smell of Grandmother Coyote's energy mingling in his aura—as if she'd leaned against his shoulder or patted him on the back.
I took a sip of my wine and contemplated this odd turn of events. "Perhaps." Toying with my drink, I gazed at him, trying to figure out just who he was. Menolly was right. He wasn't from the Sub Realms. That much I could tell, so he couldn't be the Psycho Babbler, as charming as he might seem.
That left the question as to whether he was in league with Bad Ass Luke. Whoever he was, he was handsome, with shoulder-length hair the color of charcoal, smooth and shining and gathered back in a pony tail. He had no facial hair save for a small goatee and a pencil-thin mustache, and while his build was slight, he looked wiry under the green cable-knit sweater. Hmm… he really was cute. What might he be wearing below that sweater? I couldn't very well ask him to stand up so I could see his pants.
Shaking myself out of my reverie, I said, "So, who are you?"
The corner of his lips crooked into a cunning smile. My pulse revved, and I shifted in my seat, wondering if he could read me.
He gave a little laugh. "Morio. I just arrived in town."
Morio? That was a Japanese name.
"Not from Otherworld, you didn't," I said before I could stop myself. "You aren't one of the Sidhe. What are you?" Whoops… very rude. In Otherworld it was considered the height of bad manners to ask what someone was upon first greeting. I backtracked. "Excuse me… bad manners. My name's Camille. So Grandmother Coyote pointed you my way? How did you know I'd be here tonight?"
"I followed you from your house." He brushed away a shoulder-length strand of hair that had come loose from his ponytail.
Shit, then he also knew that Menolly and I were connected. I prayed that he was really on our side. "You've been watching me? I don't appreciate that."
Morio shrugged. "You wouldn't have noticed me if I hadn't told you, so don't worry about it. I arrived from Japan yesterday." He glanced around the tavern. "I haven't been here in a while. The giant's gone." With a quick gesture at Menolly, he leaned forward. "I won't tell your secret. Or hers."
I sucked in a deep breath. Direct questioning wasn't going to work on him. "What do you want with me?"
He traced an intricate pattern on the table. I tensed—the weave looked like spell work, but I couldn't feel any magic emanating from it, so I tried to relax. "It's not what I want with you," he said. "It's what I can do for you."
"And what can you do for me?" I leaned forward, realizing that I was asking more than one question.
"I can help you find that which you seek," he said. "I know the forest. I know how to track, to sniff out and seek."
He lifted his head, locking me in with his gaze. His slow smile ran through my veins like fine wine, disorienting me as the energy of the woodland closed in around us. Dark and deep, old and wild, it wove itself like a cloak around his shoulders. "Whatever you want beyond that, I'm sure I can provide."
As I caught my breath, I realized he was an Earthside spirit and that he belonged to this world. "Did Grandmother Coyote call you in on our behalf?"
Another smile, another yank into a swirling kaleidoscope of leaves and twigs and roots plunging deep into the earth. "Not exactly, but she showed me those who threaten this world. My world. I'm at your disposal. Put me to work."
He lifted his glass to salute me, and I returned the compliment, wondering what to do next. My question was answered when Menolly caught my attention. She hadn't lifted a finger, but we were sisters, and I could feel when she called me. I glanced over at the bar to where she stood, a small book in her hand. A traveler's notebook, an elastic band held the pages closed. Jocko's diary.
"You'd better go talk to her. I'll wait for you," Morio said.
As I slowly stood, keeping my eye on my new companion, it occurred to me that Morio had affected me in a way no man had since before I'd met Trillian. Whether that boded for good or ill remained to be seen.
Menolly gave me a quizzical look as I approached the bar. I asked for another white wine, then leaned over the counter. "We need to talk."
"I can't get off duty right now, and after work I want to look around and see if I can figure out who was helping Bad Ass Luke from here. But take the journal with you. By the way, who's the hot-to-trot? Please don't tell me he's on Shadow Wing's side."
I raised one eyebrow and glanced back at Morio, who lifted his glass in my direction. "I'm not sure yet, but he's an emissary from Grandmother Coyote, and if he's a demon, he's an earthbound one. I'm certain he's not in league with our big bad boys from the netherworlds. I'd smell them on him."
