Troy fell into position two paces behind. After a few yards, Lucas glanced over his shoulder.
"Troy? Please, walk beside us."
"Sorry," Troy said, striding up. "Habit."
"Yes, well, when a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound half-demon follows me, it's never a good thing. Fleeing for my life is usually involved."
Troy grinned. "You need a bodyguard."
"I need a saner life. Or faster feet. Right now, though, we need . . ."
"Wheels," I said. "Followed by stiff drinks."
"Uh, sir?"
Lucas winced.
" Lucas, I meant," Troy said. "The parking garage is beside the office. We needed to take the walkway across to get the car."
Lucas sighed. "Now you tell me."
"Hey, it's not my place to think. That's for you sorcerer guys. Me? I'm paid to keep my mouth shut, glare at strangers, and, on a good day, break a couple kneecaps."
"Cushy job," I said.
"It has its moments. The kneecap-breaking gets a little stale, though. I've tried tossing in the occasional jaw-busting and skull-smacking, but Mr. Cortez, he's a kneecap man."
Lucas shook his head and headed back toward the building.
***
At the hotel, Troy cased our room before allowing us inside. Seemed like overkill to me, but that was his job.
"All clear," he said, coming out. "There's a door between our rooms. Knock if you need me. If you go out to dinner . . ."
"We'll tell you," Lucas said.
"I'll keep out of the way, sit at a corner table, whatever."
"We'll probably have a quiet night, order room service."
"Hey, it's all paid for, so go for it." Troy caught Lucas's look. "Yeah, I know, you don't like using the old man's money, but you're his kid, right? If it was my dad . . ." He grinned. "Well, if it was my dad, I suppose he'd be offering me a lifetime supply of fire and brimstone, and personally, I'd prefer the cash, but that's just me. Seriously, though, take advantage of it. Clean out the minibar, rack up the room-service bill, steal the bathrobes. Worst thing that can happen, you'll piss off the old man and he won't talk to you for a year."
"Not the worst punishment I can imagine," Lucas murmured.
"Exactly. So live it up. And call me if you need help with the minibar."
***
I closed the door, cast a locking spell, and collapsed on the couch.
"I'm sorry," Lucas said. "I know that was difficult for you, turning them down."
"Let's just—let's not think about it. Not now. Maybe in the morning . . . Will we have time to stop by the hospital in the morning? See how she's doing?"
"We'll make time."
"Good. I can make sure she's okay, see if there's anything I can do from that angle and try to forget the rest. Now, let's help ourselves to that drink."
I started pushing to my feet, but Lucas waved me down.
"Stay there. I'll get it."
He glanced at the minibar, then at the door.
"The minibar's closer," I said. "And if you go out for booze, you'll have to take Troy. Your father brought us running down here, the least he can do is pay for our hotel and a drink."
"You're right. First, the drink. Then dinner. We'll order in—" He stopped and shook his head. "No, we're going out. Someplace nice. Followed by a show or a walk on the beach or whatever you want. My treat."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to. And, though I neglected to mention it earlier, I have money. Well, some money. I received payment on a legal matter, and I am, for the first time in months, reasonably flush."
"Is this for the case you're working now? With the shaman?"
"No, this is from a few years ago, a client whose financial situation has improved and who wanted to repay me. As for the current case, there is the possibility of a payment. A barter, so to speak. He has—" Lucas paused, then shook his head. "A matter we can discuss later, if and when it comes to fruition. For now, I have enough money to treat you to a proper evening out, and pay the rent for the next few months. Let me mix that drink, then I'll tell Troy we'll be leaving for dinner within the hour."
I didn't miss the "pay the rent" part,
"Troy? Please, walk beside us."
"Sorry," Troy said, striding up. "Habit."
"Yes, well, when a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound half-demon follows me, it's never a good thing. Fleeing for my life is usually involved."
Troy grinned. "You need a bodyguard."
"I need a saner life. Or faster feet. Right now, though, we need . . ."
"Wheels," I said. "Followed by stiff drinks."
"Uh, sir?"
Lucas winced.
" Lucas, I meant," Troy said. "The parking garage is beside the office. We needed to take the walkway across to get the car."
Lucas sighed. "Now you tell me."
"Hey, it's not my place to think. That's for you sorcerer guys. Me? I'm paid to keep my mouth shut, glare at strangers, and, on a good day, break a couple kneecaps."
"Cushy job," I said.
"It has its moments. The kneecap-breaking gets a little stale, though. I've tried tossing in the occasional jaw-busting and skull-smacking, but Mr. Cortez, he's a kneecap man."
Lucas shook his head and headed back toward the building.
***
At the hotel, Troy cased our room before allowing us inside. Seemed like overkill to me, but that was his job.
"All clear," he said, coming out. "There's a door between our rooms. Knock if you need me. If you go out to dinner . . ."
"We'll tell you," Lucas said.
"I'll keep out of the way, sit at a corner table, whatever."
"We'll probably have a quiet night, order room service."
"Hey, it's all paid for, so go for it." Troy caught Lucas's look. "Yeah, I know, you don't like using the old man's money, but you're his kid, right? If it was my dad . . ." He grinned. "Well, if it was my dad, I suppose he'd be offering me a lifetime supply of fire and brimstone, and personally, I'd prefer the cash, but that's just me. Seriously, though, take advantage of it. Clean out the minibar, rack up the room-service bill, steal the bathrobes. Worst thing that can happen, you'll piss off the old man and he won't talk to you for a year."
"Not the worst punishment I can imagine," Lucas murmured.
"Exactly. So live it up. And call me if you need help with the minibar."
***
I closed the door, cast a locking spell, and collapsed on the couch.
"I'm sorry," Lucas said. "I know that was difficult for you, turning them down."
"Let's just—let's not think about it. Not now. Maybe in the morning . . . Will we have time to stop by the hospital in the morning? See how she's doing?"
"We'll make time."
"Good. I can make sure she's okay, see if there's anything I can do from that angle and try to forget the rest. Now, let's help ourselves to that drink."
I started pushing to my feet, but Lucas waved me down.
"Stay there. I'll get it."
He glanced at the minibar, then at the door.
"The minibar's closer," I said. "And if you go out for booze, you'll have to take Troy. Your father brought us running down here, the least he can do is pay for our hotel and a drink."
"You're right. First, the drink. Then dinner. We'll order in—" He stopped and shook his head. "No, we're going out. Someplace nice. Followed by a show or a walk on the beach or whatever you want. My treat."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to. And, though I neglected to mention it earlier, I have money. Well, some money. I received payment on a legal matter, and I am, for the first time in months, reasonably flush."
"Is this for the case you're working now? With the shaman?"
"No, this is from a few years ago, a client whose financial situation has improved and who wanted to repay me. As for the current case, there is the possibility of a payment. A barter, so to speak. He has—" Lucas paused, then shook his head. "A matter we can discuss later, if and when it comes to fruition. For now, I have enough money to treat you to a proper evening out, and pay the rent for the next few months. Let me mix that drink, then I'll tell Troy we'll be leaving for dinner within the hour."
I didn't miss the "pay the rent" part,
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