Page 44 of Up in Smoke

Your flirtations are wasted on me, Mr. Moretti.

Thursday, June 25, 2043.

Asylum, Oklahoma.

The Alley.

It tooktwo days to handle the deliveries and inventory Sandro’s home. My cellar possessed a wealth of goods, including enough canned food to last us months without needing to touch any of the supplies Mansfield had provided. I questioned Mansfield’s choices. What was supposed to be a month supply could easily feed six.

I had plans for the leftovers, and it involved my old haunts and the people I knew wouldn’t be getting sufficient supplies from Asylum’s overlord. It would take some careful planning to get around Mansfield’s surveillance, but I would find a way.

Sandro wore a suit, and I wore casual clothes, as I hadn’t purchased a lot of fancy clothes—nor had I taken anything fancy with me. I appreciated his collar, which declared him as mine.

Few in Tulsa would understand the significance of the jewelry, but if Mansfield did, he’d be even more careful.

Only favored songbirds could wear such a lavish piece.

“Where are we going first?” Sandro asked once I tucked Peace under my arm. I could have worn her, but I preferred carrying her around. If I couldn’t stab someone with her, I could beat them with her.

“I want to see how Batbayar and the students are doing, then we’ll see if we can find Brent McCoy. That’ll probably take all day, won’t it?”

“That depends on them. Batbayar is the martial artist?”

“Yes. Before the twisters got really bad, he ran the Rising Sun Martial Arts Center. He got a pass to come into Asylum, and I was supposed to get entry to work from that, but then you came along.”

“I’m glad Mansfield was wise enough to listen to me about that. I warned him if he took the employees away from the employers, he’d have resources without any way to take advantage of them. He hadn’t wanted the extra bodies in Asylum.”

“A bar without waitresses isn’t going to last long.”

“Yeah, it really won’t, and Mansfield’s lot wouldn’t even dream of doing a job like that. Now, since we don’t know how badly things are bugged here, we’ll both have to play stupid. We’ll have to limit our talking to outside or in the house, and I hope you like my poetry, because I’m going to be reciting something for you every time we head to the house.”

My tail developed a life of its own and swished back and forth. “Apparently, I’m easy to please.”

“That’s okay. If something that little can bring you joy, then I’m happy to recite poems for you. We’ll talk about poets and books on the way to the temporary studio. Mansfield was generous enough to provide a map. Of course, he provided it so I can reinforce support columns, but that’s a different story.” Sandro headed to the door and waited for me. “What can you tell me about Batbayar?”

I joined him, patting Peace’s sheath. “He’s Mongolian with a love of Japanese kendo. He mixes a bunch of different styles, I think. He’d been starting to train me with the sword, but then the swarms happened and I got shot. I really like the katana.”

“Unarmed combat, too?”

“Yes. Both armed and unarmed combat.”

“Interesting. Do you think Batbayar would be good at training people in a hurry?”

I frowned, considering his question—and the ramifications of his question. “I don’t like that idea, Sandro.”

“Neither do I, for numerous reasons. Why would Mansfield want people trained? More importantly, who would the trained people fight?”

I made a thoughtful sound in my throat and headed down the steps, aware we would have to mince words until our return and after Sandro deactivated any new bugs. “Is Edgar Allen Poe your favorite poet?”

“He’s one of them, but my favorite changes fairly often. It depends on my mood. I really like Robert Frost, and I also really like things like the Odyssey. The scale of it is delightful.”

“Please tell me you haven’t memorized that whole thing,” I said, regarding him out of the corner of my eye. “You haven’t, have you?”

“I have several segments of it memorized, and honestly, if I needed to memorize the entire thing, I could. I have a good memory for poems. I think it’s part of the magic. But I know what I would conjure should I need to recite that one. I’ve never been brave enough to try it. It is as triumphant as it is tragic, and I don’t know what sort of magic that poem would awaken if performed in full. But I’ve a few ideas of a reciting of a Robert Frost poem you might enjoy.”

I nodded; I’d always thought the Odyssey to be excessively brutal as well as inspiring. In a way, however much I wanted to hear him perform it, I hesitated to imagine what chaos and destruction he might rain down should he use such a sweeping epic to breathe his magic to life. “I have a tail and ears, but that’s about it. I think you win that one.”

“You’re also ridiculously smart.” Sandro grinned at me. “I’ll try to teach you some minor poetry later to see if you have a missed ability. You hybrids get the short end of the stick often. You can’t shapeshift, you can’t access other types of magic usually, and you’re heavily judged based on your appearances. I’m the luckiest of men because of all the vixens, I have the perfect one.”