You say the sweetest things. And that spaghetti perfume you're wearing is to die for. No hobo could resist."
She snarled. Heh.
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Failure happened. The trick was to accept the risk and try anyway.
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She surveyed the carnage behind him. "Did you have fun?"
He showed her his teeth. "Yes.
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You call that evening the odds? You demolished them."
Demolished. He liked that. "I left you one."
"I noticed."
"I promised to share," he told her. "Manners are very important in the Weird. Lying would be quite impolite.
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William's eyes glowed like two amber coals. She met his gaze and flinched. No emotion reflected in the amber, only intelligence, cruel in a way the eyes of a hunting Mire cat were cruel. She saw no worry, no softness, no thoughts at all, only waiting. He seemed barely human now, not a man but some feral thing, knitted of darkness and biding his time for an opportunity to pounce.
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Behind him Kaldar nudged Urow's youngest son. "Bet you he lasts at least thirty seconds."
"Um..." Gaston looked at him. "No he won't."
"Bet me something."
"I don't have anything."
Kaldar grimaced. "Pick up that rock."
Gaston swiped the rock off the ground.
"Now you have a rock. I bet this five bucks against your rock."
Gaston grinned. "Deal.
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You said he was a soldier. You don't suppose...?"
"Oh, Gods." Ignata blinked. "You think something could be wrong down there?"
All of them looked at William, who chose this precise moment to slide the wet shirt back on his back, which required him to flex, raising his arms.
"That would be a shame," Cerise murmured.
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How is it different?"
He rolled his head back, sable hair falling down on his shoulders. "With Rose I knew what to say. I could take a step back and talk to her. I remembered all the crap from the magaznies. It was easy."
"And with me, it's hard?" Why? Because she was a swamp girl? And how did the magazines fit into it?
William looked away from her. "I don't like it when you're away. If I don't see you, I can't settle down. If I see you talking with another man, I want to claw his throat out. And none of the things you're supposed to say fit."
Oh, this had to be good. "What sort of things?"
He sighed. "The lines. Like, 'You're my everything,' or 'Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?
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It could be worse," he said finally. "Efrenia married an arsonist. Jake's wife is a kleptomaniac. I suppose, a psychopathic spree killer isn't that odd of a choice, considering.
Ilona AndrewsTags: william ilona-andrews cerise bayou-moon the-edge
Kaldar picked up a rock and tossed it into the clearing. It landed between two wards. A green stem shot out of the ground, and a hail of needle-thin thorns peppered the soil, striking sparks off the rock.
"You got any money on you?"
"No."
Kaldar grimaced. "What do you have?"
William made a mental inventory of some twenty-odd items he'd pulled out of the Mirror's bag of tricks and hid in his clothes this morning. Not much he could part with. "A knife," he said.
"Fine. I'll bet my knife against your knife that I can walk through there unharmed.
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