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“We did.”
“Then would you like to explain to me why it is I find you here without the item we had agreed on? I like you, Genie, but you and I are not friends. I do free favors for my friends. You still have to pay.”
“I’m hurt, Beau, I was working really hard on a friendship bracelet for you and everything.”
His nostrils flared. It was just the most imperceptible thing telling me how annoyed he was. The rest of his face gave nothing away.
“If you’re not here to make good on your promises, that begs the question of why you’re here at all.” He sipped his own coffee, maintaining a cool, calm exterior. I could tell his blood was boiling.
“Here’s the thing about that, and I hope you won’t think I’m here making excuses, but I’ve run into a bit of trouble collecting the… item.”
“Couldn’t find it?”
“Oh, I found it.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Well, it’s still attached to the owner’s body.”
His brow creased, and I watched the gears work inside his mind. He knew as well as I did how Mercy had been killed. “Attached?”
“And then there’s the bonus problem of the body being alive.”
Cain’s bravado fell away in an instant, he complexion going completely ashen. I feel you, dude.
“Can you repeat that?”
“Nah, you got it the first time.”
We stared at each other, and I couldn’t decide if he wanted to strangle me or barf. Might have been both.
“You’re saying Mercy is alive.”
“I’m saying she’s alive and pissed as hell. She burned down the bar at Callum’s estate last night. I don’t know what your history with my mother is, but if you think there might be some bad blood, then I’d tell you politely you might want to watch your back.”
This was what I’d come for, to see how he’d react to this, and his sick, pale expression told me that, for one thing, he was not responsible for bringing her back, and for another, he didn’t want her here anymore than I did.
“Do you want to tell me how it’s possible that my dead, beheaded mother is walking around and playing with matches, Beau?”
“You think I’m responsible for this?”
“No, but I think there was a really good reason you wanted to have her skull sitting on your bookshelf, and I’m starting to wonder if it’s because you knew something like this might happen and wanted to keep an eye on her.”
He scowled at me, and with a faintly trembling hand took another sip of his still-warm coffee. Yeah, he was spooked. I wasn’t sure if I should feel smug or worried about it. I’d seen Cain square off against some pretty terrible circumstances and do it with a boyish grin and a wink.
If Mercy being back had him this shaken, then things might be even worse than I was worried about.
“Are you absolutely sure?” he asked.
“You know, I’m getting pretty sick of people asking me that question.”
“This isn’t something I want to leave to chance.”
“I didn’t just imagine her. She stood right in front of me. She spoke to me. She wasn’t an apparition or a ghost. Her skull wasn’t in the grave and she was there, less than ten feet away from me, telling me what a naughty girl I’d been.” It would be laughably absurd if it wasn’t so bloody scary.
“Have you told anyone else about this?”
“Of course. I told Callum, Ben, Wilder. I’ve told everyone I thought should know, because this wasn’t something I wanted to hush up. People had to prepare themselves.”
