Crimson Death Page 147

   I had Nathaniel with me, and he had Damian still unconscious in the duffel bag on his back. If we got into a real fight, I was going to be seriously pissed that they were getting endangered. Flannery and I would have words if this went pear-shaped.

   In order for us to all sit down at the table, I was way too close to Nicky’s shoulder, so he kindly put it across the back of my chair and part of Nathaniel’s because his arm span was just that wide. Damian was still safely tucked in Nathaniel’s bag at our feet, so if we had to get out fast, it was going to make it harder. We’d already discussed that Nathaniel’s only job was getting Damian out safely, if we needed to move with a capital “M.” We hadn’t expected trouble, but planning for it was automatic.

   Nicky cuddled closer to me and, I realized, closer to Nathaniel on the other side of me. He was sitting like that so I wasn’t squished against his shoulders, but it was also a way of showing that we were both under his protection. For Nathaniel I liked the extra help; for me I’d have preferred to not need it, but in a normal bar, having a man show you were part of a couple with him could short-circuit a lot of misunderstandings. My ego could take being seen as under Nicky’s protection if it would keep us from having trouble with Nathaniel and Damian beside us. Dev was at the end of the table, which put his back to the main door, which he hadn’t liked, but he’d wanted to sit beside Nathaniel and I’d wanted him beside me, so . . . He could have made Ethan sit with his back to the door, but then Dev couldn’t have held hands with either of us and he wanted to touch more than to be safe, which was one reason Dev wasn’t one of my main guards when I could help it. Maybe there was more than one reason why he had fallen for Asher; he’d have made the same trade-off between public affection and safety.

   I leaned over the table toward Flannery’s smiling face and whispered, “Why don’t the locals seem to like us very much?”

   “Some of them don’t like that I’m working with a unit that’s supposed to help control them.”

   “You didn’t think to mention that before you had me bring Nathaniel and Damian?”

   Domino leaned in on one side of Flannery and gave a low growl. Ethan leaned in on the other side and did the same. Flannery’s eyebrows went up a little bit, but he kept smiling. “We aren’t in danger, Marshal Blake. They just aren’t all in favor of putting together a human paramilitary group to police supernatural beings on Irish soil. Surely, you can understand their issue with it.”

   “Sure, so long as that issue doesn’t rain all over me and mine.”

   Ethan and Domino leaned in a little closer to him. Domino sniffed along his face a little more noisily than was needed, but sometimes it’s about the effect on the person you’re trying to intimidate. I was unhappy enough with Flannery that I sort of enjoyed seeing his pulse beating faster in the side of his neck.

   “Are you actually threatening me, Marshal?” Flannery wasn’t smiling when he said it. I couldn’t blame him, but I was pissed.

   Nathaniel leaned in and spoke low. “Don’t piss off the local police because you’re worried about me, Anita.”

   “Just for future reference, Flannery, I’m seriously protective of Nathaniel.”

   “I understand that you and Devereux are both dating him,” he said, looking at the two men holding hands, “but I didn’t realize that all your men felt the same way.”

   “I just like being scary,” Domino said.

   “Peer pressure,” Ethan said. “I never could resist peer pressure.” He said it flat with no hint that he was kidding.

   Flannery looked at him, obviously trying to figure out if he was kidding. He didn’t look at Domino; I think he just believed him. Sometimes I forgot that Domino had started life working for the old-fashioned mob. He had no police record from it, or he couldn’t have come on this trip, but the lack of record was probably not due to him never having done anything worth getting arrested for, rather to him just never getting caught. As he leaned into Flannery, invading the hell out of his personal space, and implying, though not stating, that he’d hurt him if he made me unhappy, Domino seemed very comfortable. Maybe I was wasting his talents on bodyguard and police work; too bad I didn’t have need for a leg-breaker, and if I did, I had Nicky. Or me, for that matter. I tried to never give an order that I wasn’t willing to follow personally—lead from the front and all that.

   Nicky spoke low to me. “We’re all picking up your anger and your worry for Nathaniel. Tone it down.”

   I took a deep breath and let it out slow, counting the seconds as I did it. My worry for Nathaniel was at the base of all of it. Fear so often leads to anger. I was better than this. I could do better than this, so I did my deep breathing, my slow count, and finally had to close my eyes with Nathaniel’s hand still in mine, and the solidity of Nicky’s arm across both our shoulders. It didn’t help all that much. I had to let go of Nathaniel’s hand and sit forward enough that I couldn’t touch Nicky’s arm, and try to find just me in the metaphysical mix. I had to find my quiet center devoid of anyone else, which was a lot harder than it sounded with them all sitting so close to me.

   I opened my eyes slowly and was able to look at Flannery without that spurt of fear and anger. I felt almost nothing as I looked at him across the table. I’d told my metaphysical mentor, Marianne, that the quiet peace of meditation was similar to the quiet before I shot someone. She hadn’t liked that much, but one kind of emotional calm is very like another. Sociopaths must be some of the calmest people on the planet.

   Both Ethan and Domino had eased back from Flannery, giving him elbow room at the table again. “That was intense,” Domino said.

   “I don’t normally pick up your emotions that strongly,” Ethan said.

   “My apologies to everyone on that side of the table,” I said.

   “We’ll forgive you almost anything,” Domino said. “It’s our host you need to convince.”

   I looked into Flannery’s brown eyes. “Do you forgive me, or am I on your shit list for letting my anger leak all over everything?”

   “As the person being threatened, no, but as a practitioner of the arts, that was fascinating.”

   “I’ll take halfway forgiven,” I said. “It’s probably more than I deserve after that. I really am better at control than this, normally.”

   “Jet lag can affect a lot of things, Blake.”

   “Are you worse at controlling your powers when you travel internationally?” I asked.

   “Yes, but I have to convince the local Fey to cooperate with me before I’m dangerous, so it’s not as large an issue for me.” He glanced at the two weretigers still sitting on either side of him. “Would you have really hurt me here in the pub, in front of witnesses?”

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