She nodded slowly. “Then that is the one you must kill.”
“What about the money?”
Her thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. “There is always a way. Now go, kill the wolf before it kills you.”
“Okay.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Thank you. For everything.”
She slipped her hand out from under his, reached into the pocket of her house dress, and pulled something out. “Here,” she said, holding her closed fist over his hand.
He turned his palm up.
She dropped three waxy, dime-sized disks into his hand. “You’re going to need those.”
He pinched one between his fingers. They were hard and rough. “I almost forgot to ask about them.”
She pulled out another cigarette and lit it up, making him wait. After an inhale, she released a few smoke rings. “They’re what you came here for. Basilisk scales.”
He squeezed them tight in his hand. “I love you.”
She smiled. “I know.”
Chapter Forty-two
Chrysabelle held tight to Lilith’s hand. Panic tingled down to the tips of her fingers. Tatiana was almost herself again. “What are we going to do? How many times do we have to kill her?”
Mal glanced back the way they’d come. “Maybe we should just run for it.”
“And have her follow us?” She shook her hand. “No way. This ends here. It has to.” She nodded toward the tree. “The angel guarding the gate said nothing can be removed from the Garden. She’s got one in her pocket. Maybe if she tries to leave with it, he’ll kill her.”
Mal nodded. “It’s worth a shot. As soon as she’s herself again, we’ll run and let her chase us. I’ll take Lilith.” He scooped her into his arms.
Chrysabelle nodded. “Good.” Tatiana would probably use the child for blood if they left her. She shuddered at the thought.
Lilith patted Mal on the head, but it didn’t faze him. “Anything’s better than Tatiana having her, although I don’t know if the mayor will still be interested in Lilith now that she’s human again.”
A ragged breath left Chrysabelle’s lungs. Completely real again, Tatiana walked toward them. “Here she comes.”
Mal turned, putting himself between Tatiana and Chrysabelle. “Stop right where you are.”
“Why should I listen to a thing that comes out of your lying mouth?” Tatiana kept walking. She thrust her hand forward like she was going to make a sword out of it, but it was flesh now. Healed by the tree, maybe. She frowned and shook her fingers, but they stayed fingers.
“Because I have a deal for you.” Mal held his ground. “And you’re apparently out of weaponry.”
A deal? Chrysabelle wished she knew what Mal had planned, but she trusted him.
“That’s rich. You have a deal for me.” Tatiana stopped and put her hands on her hips. “And for your information, I’m happy to have my real hand back.”
Mal ignored her comments. “Let us take the child and Chrysabelle won’t stop you from taking fruit from the tree back to Corvinestri with you.”
Tatiana bent in laughter. “Oh, that is good. The comarré’s going to stop me? She couldn’t even kill me.”
“No, but she does have weaponry and she could spend the rest of eternity lopping your head off. That’s got to hurt, and who knows, that apple you ate might run out at some point.” He hefted Lilith a little higher onto his hip. “What do you say?”
“I say you’re a liar and not to be trusted.”
“The life of a child is at stake, Shaya.” At the use of her human name, the snarl left her face and a flicker of sadness filled her eyes. Mal nodded. “You know me well enough to understand that, in this, I speak the truth.”
She swallowed. “I still want the comarré dead.”
Chrysabelle exhaled hard. “The feeling is mutual, you—”
“Understood,” Mal interrupted. “But that’s for another time and place.”
Fi shook her head. “But you said you didn’t know what you were.”
“I know,” Pete said quietly. “I didn’t want to lie to you. You really do remind me of my niece and you’re such a sweet kid. Plus, you had enough to deal with. You didn’t need to know the city was being protected by a freak.”
“You’re not a freak,” Fi said. Not that she knew what he was, but honestly, what could be considered freaky these days? “Doc changes into a leopard, I’m a ghost, the city’s lousy with vampires and fae and other varcolai. I can’t imagine what you could be that makes you think you’re stranger than any of that.”
He sighed again and looked at Doc. “You’re lucky to have this one, you know.”
Doc nodded. “I know. That’s why I married her.” He smiled at Fi.
She winked back, not really wanting to change the subject. “Pete, this whole building is filled with full-blooded, feline varcolai. A remnant isn’t going to scare anyone.”
Pete laughed. “Like I said, sweet kid.” He bounced the envelope on his knees as if weighing the contents. “I’m not a remnant. I’m full-blooded.” He reached into his shirt and pulled out a gold chain. A well-worn, highly polished gold disc hung from the end. At the circle’s edge was an inscription too small for Fi to read. “This keeps me from changing. I’ve worn it since I was fourteen.” He swallowed. “Since the first and last time I changed.”