“Showtime,” Quinn said, sweeping an arm in front of her body dramatically as if to say You’re up.
I began to make my way over, when Brooks jerked me back.
“What’s wrong?”
She tugged off her sweatshirt and started to reach for my face with it. Then she changed her mind and tossed it to me instead. “You’re bleeding.”
“Awww.” Quinn fluttered her eyelashes melodramatically.
I blushed so hard my cheeks felt like they might melt right off my face.
Scowling at her sister, Brooks groaned. “He can’t just walk up to them all bloody. Blood freaks some people out, okay?”
“Right,” Quinn said with one corner of her mouth turned up. “I’ll wait on the other side, just in case they succeed in climbing over the fence.” She shifted back into the white cat and darted into the shadows.
I wiped my face, then tossed the dirty sweatshirt under a car, promising to replace it. But Brooks had already taken to the sky.
My mind shifted gears. Something was missing from the puzzle—something no one had thought of yet. Why did I have the feeling it had everything to do with that antiques shop and whatever the godborns had stolen?
I looked down at the jaguar tattoo on my hand and willed Fuego to reappear.
Then I headed toward the thieves.
With Fuego’s help, I cut across the lot in three seconds. This new version of my cane made me a speed demon when I needed to be. Okay, bad choice of words. It made me fast. Really fast.
I stood directly beneath the kids, who were halfway up the ten-foot-high fence. Here’s the thing about my approach: It had to be just right. Smooth but not fake. Calm but not tired. Alert but not stalkerish. These two looked like the kind who would appreciate the whole less-is-more thing. So I took a deep breath and started with “Hey.”
They stared down at me as they white-knuckled the chain link. Their hoods kept most of their faces in shadow.
“Get away from us!” the taller one said. His voice was gruff, but it teetered on panic.
“I just want to talk,” I said. I felt like a cop handling a hostage taker and every word had to be perfect or else.
Quinn emerged from the shadows on the other side of the fence. But not as a white cat. Say hello to the massive German shepherd with a growl that shook the warm air. Very subtle. NOT.
The godborns were trapped.
“How about some chill, Quinn?” I said behind clenched teeth. Then I called up to the godborns, “I bet you’re wondering about the whole demon thing. Scary, I know. But I have answers, and I’m a lot nicer than that shepherd is.”
Brooks circled overhead before landing on the top of the fence as a regular-size hawk. Okay, that was better than a ginormous hawk that might have plunged these guys even deeper into a sea of panic. But still, did she really have to do the whole glowy-eye thing?
This was so much easier when I did it alone.
“My name is Zane,” I said to the godborns. “I’m like you.”
All I got were vacant stares.
I kept going. “I remember the first time I saw a demon—it totally freaked me out. He was flying this twin-engine plane all borracho like, and it crashed into the volcano in my backyard and…” More blank expressions. “Look, I’m here to help you. I promise. Just come down so we can talk.”
They peered up at Brooks, then down at Quinn before exchanging a glance. They must have decided I was the safer choice, because they hopped down like ninjas and faced me. I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or happy.
We were only a few feet apart. My eyes cut through the shadows but couldn’t see under their hoods.
The shorter one reached up and pulled theirs back. Dark curly hair with bright red tips spilled out past her shoulders. “We don’t need your help,” she said.
Quinn snarled, baring some seriously long fangs.
My gaze drifted to killer canine and back. “Uh, I kinda think you do.”