Page 51 of The Dark Hiss of Magic
‘Ain’t that the truth,’ Thane agreed.
‘I amnotdangerous!’ I said, visibly bristling. At the very least Dave wasn’t supposed to know that I was dangerous anyway.
He rubbed his chin. ‘Mmm.’
It wasn’t wise to protest too much. ‘Have you seen He Who Roams Wide?’ I asked.
‘Am I supposed to know which bloody moggy of yours that is?’ he grumped. ‘I don’t know their daft names. There’s far too many of them to keep track of – but I did feed them all this morning.’ He bared his teeth. ‘You’re welcome.’
‘Was my black male cat there?’ I asked. ‘Did he eat?’
‘You’re welcome,’ Dave repeated.
I breathed. ‘Thank you for feeding them.’
He scowled. ‘Finally. Manners cost nothing, you know.’ He waved a hand towards the gate. ‘Yes, the black cat was there. Yes, he ate, then he went off but I didn’t see where.’
I relaxed. That was okay; He Who Roams Wide was only living up to his name. ‘Thank you,’ I said again.
Dave scowled harder. ‘You’re welcome.’
After helpingTiddles settle in and ensuring there was more than enough food and water for all the cats, I took a quick shower and changed into clean clothes. Thane also washed and I found a clean T-shirt in a pile of old clothes that I reckoned would fit him.
‘We can go via your place if you want,’ I said. ‘It won’t take long to make a detour first.’
‘I don’t smell that bad, do I?’
He smelled great.
He pulled off his old shirt, exposing his taut, muscled chest, then yanked on the T-shirt. It was a snug fit, especially around his shoulders, but it covered his modesty. More’s the pity. ‘Were you eyeing me up, Kit?’ he asked archly.
I shrugged. ‘It’s not every day I have a half-naked werewolf lolling around my house.’
‘Lolling? This isn’t lolling.’ He offered a crooked smile that contained a hint of cheeky promise. ‘I can show you real lolling, if you want.’
I was genuinely tempted. ‘We have a lot to do. You can show me later.’
‘I bet Alexander MacTire doesn’t do lolling.’
On that count, I suspected he was correct.
We headed first to Pork Pies. In the wake of Knox’s murder, the café wasn’t open for business though there were people inside and I could see the familiar shape of Harriet’s head through the frosted glass. Feeling uncharacteristically nervous, I licked my lips then rapped on the window.
It was the waiter from our first visit who opened the door. ‘We’re closed today,’ he said firmly.
‘It’s Kit and Thane,’ I said. ‘We want a quick word with Harriet and the Blue Tattoos.’
He recognised belatedly that we were the couple who’d spoken to him about hiring the Blue Tattoos. ‘You’ll have to get another band for your wedding. The Blue Tattoos are no longer available.’
I winced. ‘That’s not why we’re here.’
Fortunately, Harriet had heard me and came over. Her pale, strained face displayed every inch of her grief. The waiter, sensing this was a private conversation, slipped back inside.
‘What is it?’ Harriet asked. ‘Have they found the bastard who killed my brother?’
Thane obviously didn’t want to give her false hope until we knew more. ‘Progress is being made,’ he hedged.
‘The MET guy said you two had been arrested.’
