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“Kid is a grown-ass man,” I added, more for Cade’s information than Leo’s ego. “I’m going to call Sido after I hang up with you, get her to coordinate a pick up. Then Seth can tell Manea where to stick her threats.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself yet, Sparky. It’s not over ’til he’s with his people.”
“Yeah.”
His voice lowered, going soft and husky. “You sure you’re okay?”
The bottom of my stomach got quivery, warmth pooling deep inside me and weird butterflies fluttering inside my lungs. As muc
h as I’d love to say it was the nausea returning, I knew full well it was Cade’s words making me melty and wobbly. Dammit all.
“I will be. How’s the runt?” I could hear Fen yapping loudly in the background, like he was trying to get a word in edgewise.
“Shut up,” Cade growled, his voice moving away from the phone receiver. “She’s fine.” Yip, yip, yip. “The rat-dog is alive. For now.”
I told Cade where Leo’s apartment was in the Quarter and made him promise not to abandon my fennec on the side of the highway. “And don’t you dare hurt my car.”
“Need I remind you what happened to mine?” he asked.
“No, that’s why I want you to be careful with mine.”
A soft, humorless chuckle came across the line. “Good thing I’m not the one everybody wants dead.”
“Ahhh, I’m better off without you. You’re nothing but bad luck.”
He snickered and hung up on me.
Chapter Eighteen
New Orleans is filled with the dead.
It’s the kind of city where the barriers between life and death feel flimsier, like you could pass from one side to the other without much difficulty.
Hecate didn’t need flimsy barriers to get me here, but the nature of the environment made me nervous. As Leo and I walked the dark cross streets of the French Quarter, I felt like I was on one side of a two-way mirror, and around every corner there were eyes watching us.
Being watched was a real possibility.
So was being followed.
The sooner I got Leo to agree to come with me, the sooner I could stop looking over my shoulder.
We passed an Automatic Tithing Machine where a few party-addled frat guys were spending money on Dionysus anti-hangover charms and Aphrodite instant-attraction enchantments. Most of it was garbage with an official stamp of approval, but that was the power of prayer, wasn’t it? It mattered more that you believed it worked, as opposed to it actually working.
I loosened my hair out of its ponytail and let it fall down past my shoulders. I made a few nervous adjustments to be sure the back of my neck was covered. The last thing I needed was getting spotted in the middle of a raucous crowd of drunks on a hot summer night. Being a Rain Chaser in New Orleans didn’t make me the most popular person, either. Not all weather was my own personal doing, but I rarely got a chance to explain that.
Leo, apparently noticing my unease, asked, “Are you hiding?”
“We should both be hiding.”
“Says the woman who forced me buy her beignets.”
Ugh, logic. Point one for the big guy. “I don’t want any extra trouble.”
“Seems to me like you’ve probably never gone a day without trouble in your whole life.”
I made a face, but it wasn’t like I could disagree. Sunshine and roses weren’t part of my playbook, and he was right, trouble did have a habit of following me around.
I had literally invited bad luck into my life. A therapist would have a field day with that one.
