Page 20

In the corner of my eye, I saw Zee rapidly shake his head and tap his wrist where he’d have been wearing a watch if he owned one. Then he mimed flapping motions.

“Bad people,” Hooper said. “They want our land. Want to put a resort of fancy houses here. We won’t sell, so they think they can scare us out.”

“Bad people, huh . . .” I’d known a few of those. Eaten a few too. We had that in common. “They wouldn’t be related to Mr. Skrinde by any chance?”

Hooper turned his big bulk to face me and loomed, as though he might use his tongue to whip me into the air and shove me down his throat. “What do you know about Skrinde?”

“He tried to kidnap us. Used his son to trick us. I don’t know why. We uh . . . we sort of accidentally uhm . . . might have upset him with something we did.” Probably best not to mention we’d made the bad people angrier. I didn’t think this attack on Hooper’s shack was related to what we’d left behind in Toby’s house, but I wanted to speak with Victor and Zee before getting us more involved.

“Seems like we have the same enemy,” Hooper said, righting the last table.

“That’s nice . . . Time to go, Kitten,” Zee urged. “Sunlight makes Vic crispy, an’ we gotta make a call, remember?” He rapidly blinked wide eyes at me.

Zee was right. We had our own problems. But had we just made Hooper’s worse by accidentally murdering Mr. Skrinde’s son and a whole bunch of his employees? Could we really walk away from this? I glanced at Victor, and caught that little knot in the middle of his eyebrows, above his nose. The knot he got when his furniture making wasn’t going so well. The knot that said he didn’t like this and he wanted to fix it.

Zee caught the look on my face and rolled his eyes all the way to Victor, who also had the look on his face. A different look to mine but it meant the same. We were staying. Zee poofed his wings away and dropped onto one of the rickety chairs. “We all gonna die.”

“We can help,” I suggested. “If you want us to.”

Hooper studied me, then Victor as he approached, and Zee, flopped in the chair, head back, massaging his temples. “We saw the news report. You’re wanted for murder.”

“It was self-defense.” Hands in pockets, I shrugged. “A chef came at me with a cleaver.”

“A chef who tried to poison lots of folks,” Zee said, leaning forward to get involved in the conversation. “Adam didn’t kill him, I did.”

“I would have.” I shrugged. “Some people need to die.”

“Put it this way,” Zee said, apparently coming around to the idea of working with the frogs, perhaps so we could leave as quickly as possible. “We got a drug lord after us, and he’s also after you guys. If we go it alone, we might fix it. But together, we got a better chance of getting it done the first time.”

Hooper looked around at the rest of his people. They’d all stopped cleaning up the dead bodies to listen.

“You saw . . . we’re pretty good in a fight,” Hooper said. “Maybe we don’t need outsiders . . . You don’t look like much, and this one fainted.” Hooper nodded at Zee.

“Okay so, to be clear, I temporarily checked out, alright? I have a high metabolism. It’s a thing. Look it up. Nothing to do with fainting. I’m fine with leeches. Some of my best friends are suckers. And frogs. No issues with frogs, whatsoever. I have always said frogs are fine.”

“Also, if I may explain something that could swing the argument here,” Victor interrupted. “Adam is a dragon.”

All eyes swiveled to me.

“Oh yeah . . . I forgot that part.” I smiled sheepishly.

“Trust us, it’s always better to have a dragon on your side,” Zee said.

Hooper studied us for a few seconds longer, then nodded, which, as he didn’t have much of a neck, meant he sort of bobbed his head and shoulders together. “Alright, then . . . Sounds like we could use each other’s help.”

“Okay, then. Heroes of the City back in action.” Zee stood and strode over. “So, no time to waste, let’s point Adam in the right direction an’ he can barbeque Skrinde. Problem solved. Where does this drug lord hang out? He got a favorite country club we can crash? Golf course Adam can land on an’ deep fry him? If we can avoid nosy witnesses, that’d be great, as we’re kinda on the run right now. Our fees are a lifetime’s supply of mac and cheese, and any cat ornaments, if you have ’em.”

“Your fee is . . . mac and cheese?” Hooper asked.

“Yup. So where’s this Skrinde guy live?”

Hooper nodded at the TV, which showed—behind the static—a glistening collection of high-rises and miles of white sandy beaches. “Miami.”

Oh dear.

“That makes things a little more difficult,” Victor said grimly.

CHAPTER 8