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Just then the front door opens and Maurice takes approximately two and a half steps into the apartment I thought I had cleaned. He stops and whistles. “You two either had a really good night or a really bad one. What did I miss?”
I hang my head. “You mean the part where I smashed your door or the part where I was nearly too late to save Jessie from being assaulted?”
They both stare at me for a heartbeat. Then Jessie shakes her head. “The part where you did save me, babe. Where you were my absolute hero and then you cleaned up all the mess while I lay in bed and you tried to make me tea.”
“I couldn’t,” I mumble.
Maurice throws down his phone on the counter and leans against it. “Everyone alright?”
Jessie nods. “I’m fine now. Thanks to William. The cops came and arrested the guy and I’ve made a statement. Seems like he’ll be under surveillance until the hearing.”
Maurice nods. “How did he get in?”
Jessie shifts and I realize I didn’t even ask. Did I mention I’m a fool?
“I think he followed me home from the theater.”
I was too busy fuming and standing guard when she gave her statement to the police, but now I’m all ears. “He what?”
“It was the same guy from the function. The one who spat on me. The police think he put a tracker in my handbag.”
“That bastard!” My wings spread and I grip the counter hard enough I hope to God I don’t break off a chunk. “I knew I should have killed him.”
Jessie’s small hand covers mine. “No. I’m glad you didn’t. Remember what I said? I need you.”
I shake my head. “Don’t know why. What kind of man isn’t there for his woman when she needs him?”
Jessie scoffs. “You were. But that reminds me, where were you tonight? I didn’t see you at the show. And what with the bomb threat and everything... well, I guess that was all part of that guy stalking me, now I think about it. But where were you?”
I sigh and push back from the counter, walking to the table where I left my leather pouch of coins. Bringing them back to the kitchen, I tip them onto the counter. “On a fool’s errand. I tried to sell these, to see if I could make enough money to at least provide a place for you to live. Turns out I’m useless in that as well.”
Maurice leans over the counter and makes another low whistle. “How much were you selling them for?”
I look at him, puzzled. “I thought I might be able to get ten thousand. Turns out they’re not even worth half that.”
He barks a laugh and I twist to look at him more closely.
“Ah, I think they could be worth a hell of a lot more than ten grand, brother. Are these what I think they are?”
I shrug. “What do you think they are?”
“Original eleventh century French deniers?”
I scratch the back of my head. “I guess so. They’re just my savings. From when I was human.”
Maurice shakes his head. “To the right buyer these are worth a fortune.”
I stare at him. “They are?”
He nods. “They are. I think. I’m no coins expert. But I know a guy. Want me to ask him?”
I place my hand on his shoulder and bow my head. “My friend, I already owe you a far larger debt than I can ever repay for giving Jessie a place to stay when I couldn’t, and for helping me find her when we did. But this—” I break off, throat tight and voice thin.
“It’s nothing. I’ll do it in the morning. You know she can stay, right? I like having company. It gets lonely with no pack and no mate. I’d ask you to stay as well, but you can’t, can you?”
I make a long drawn out sound. “Ahhh, about that...”
Maurice perks up. “Yes?”
