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Baxter shrugged again, his unfocused stare making it clear this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. Guilt twisted in my chest for being the one to bring it up. “No coffee,” I said more gently. “Please. For Baxter’s sake.”
“Right.” Calisto nodded. “Tea or hot chocolate only.” He turned away, though not before I caught the smile he tried to hide. Maybe the protective bear act had been a bit much, given that the antagonist was an innocuous liquid.
I cleared my throat. “Sorry.”
Baxter leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. “Never apologize for sticking up for me.” He eased back, amusement flickering in his eyes. “That said, it’s Calisto. He’s probably the one person in the world you don’t need to protect me from.”
Calisto returned within minutes, handing out steaming polystyrene cups of hot chocolate. Ben accepted his with a slight frown while still deep in conversation, but drank it anyway.
The next hour passed in a haze of waiting and very little else. Occasionally one of us would trot out a cliché like no news was good news, and the rest would nod along. When Baxter wandered off to answer a call of nature, Calisto wasted no time in sliding into the vacated seat next to me.
“So… you and Baxter,” he said.
“Me and Baxter,” I echoed.
A glance at the door told me he knew our time alone was limited before Baxter returned. “I’ve been worried about him,” Calisto said without preamble. “It’s hard knowing how to help someone who’s clearly struggling, but won’t admit it. No matter what I did, he wouldn’t talk to me. And trust me, I tried. At first, it was okay. He was staying with Asher and me, so I could keep an eye on him. But then things got difficult. There were too many…” He trailed off, color creeping into his cheeks beneath his naturally tanned complexion.
“Men,” I finished for him.
He nodded jerkily. “Yeah. I didn’t know if you knew.”
“I do,” I said. “And I know it was just a coping strategy. That it’s not really him.”
Calisto nodded, then sighed. “I should’ve known about the coffee.”
“How could you if he didn’t tell you?”
“I know him better than anyone. I should have just… known.” He glanced toward the door again, then straightened. “Anyway. I know it’s not the time or place, but I wanted to make sure you knew something.”
“What?” I asked, frowning.
“If you hurt him, I’ll have to…” He faltered, apparently unable to conjure a convincing threat.
It was like being threatened by a puppy. One that bared its teeth but could only ever manage a nip. I’d thought Baxter had been exaggerating when he called Calisto one of the nicest people in the world. It was so endearing that despite being the one ‘threatened’ I felt obliged to help him out. “Rip me limb from limb? Tear me a new one? Make me wear my testicles as a scarf?”
“All of that,” Calisto agreed. “Maybe not the testicles part. That’s a bit over the top.”
“Great. I like my testicles. Good to know they’re safe.”
“I bet Baxter likes them too.” He froze. “Can we pretend I didn’t say that?”
“Say what?”
He smiled gratefully. “I can see why he likes you. You’re…”
“I’m…?” I prompted.
“Solid. Dependable.”
“You make me sound like a pair of shoes.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Those are good things. They’re things he needs.”
“I hope so,” I said, the conversation cut short as Baxter returned. Calisto slid back to his original seat. Baxter glanced between us curiously, but didn’t ask. Either he knew Calisto well enough to guess what had just happened, or he’d decided it didn’t matter.
We finally got news mid-afternoon when a harried-looking nurse appeared to tell us that while Jamie was stable, he hadn’t yet regained consciousness. The relief in the room was palpable.
The police arrived soon after to interview Baxter and me. We stuck to our story, the initial phone call being true, and the rest carefully pruned under Ben’s guidance to remove any mention of necromancers.
