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the third bag. From that came a large pair of silver scissors that she snapped at the incubi with enthusiasm. They crossed their legs hurriedly and hissed, showing their snakelike, curved fangs. That along with the occasional glitter of pearly scale with their blue and black hair was the only thing that gave them away as not your everyday, average male hooker.
    “Heparin?” I asked Nik.
    “Blood thinner,” he explained. “I didn’t know it would have that effect on vampires.”
    “Is he dead?” I looked to see if he was breathing, because vampires did breathe, just like their hearts beat—although I wasn’t too sure about this guy anymore. “Only staff are allowed to kill the customers. And then the boss likes us to have a good reason.”
    “He’ll live,” she said dismissively. “It was a light dose. He’s lost only half his blood volume. He’ll have to break into a blood bank when he wakes up. Those vitamins they take now won’t help him, but that’s not my concern. Keeping the gunoi in their rightful, fearful place is.”
    “These ‘feces,’ as you call them, are my patrons,” Ishiah said from behind me. He spoke Rom and we didn’t. Then again, he knew Robin Goodfellow from thousands of years back. You’re going to pick up a few things along the way. Niko would know it himself; he knew a couple of languages, but Rom—he refused, with good reason.
    “Do you think I don’t have a bag for you too, little birdy?” she snorted. “Or stories of your kind to tell?”
    How she knew he was a peri I didn’t know. Both he and Samyel had their wings out of sight. Peris could do that. The wings came and went in a glitter of light. Where exactly they went, I didn’t have a clue. I did know Ishiah wouldn’t back down from a tiny withered woman. But it didn’t come to that. Suddenly Abelia- Roo was done playing. “Shoo, little birdy. I’m ready to talk business with these two, words not for your ears. Fetch my wine and I’ll be the sweetness and light of an angel itself.” She spread her hands above her head. “See my pure gold halo? See the bright sparkle?”
    Ishiah scowled, the long scar on his jaw stretching to a gleaming white, then bit off, “See that you are.” He looked at me. “You owe me.” He was gone before I could say I’d be just as happy if he tossed her out—happier, in fact.
    “So . . . this business,” Niko said, “that is too insignificant for you to be bothered with. What is it?”
    “We have lost a thing.” She lifted a hand and waved it as if it were nothing. “An iron box. Six feet long. Wide, like so. . . .” She held her hands apart, a little more than three feet.
    “Funny, that’s about the size of a coffin,” I said. I took the glass of wine Samyel handed me and instead of passing it to her, I drank it myself—mainly to stick it to her, but also to see just how serious this “business” was. I was hoping she’d curse me and head for the door. But she didn’t, and that meant this was serious all right. Serious, dangerous as hell no doubt, and our client would be Abelia-Roo. The first two I was used to . . . but the last. no way. “Nik, did you remember coffin retrieval on our resume? Because I don’t.”
    “No, but rubbing warm, scented oil all over your favorite puck is. I wrote it in myself.” Robin, our self-proclaimed favorite puck, draped an arm over Niko’s shoulders and his other one over Abelia-Roo’s narrow ones. I’d seen him come in the front, wavy brown hair windblown, green eyes bright with anticipation, and I didn’t think it was at seeing us. He was looking for Ishiah. He did that daily now . . . more than daily. It was a wonder either one had the strength to stand upright.
    Scary thoughts. Scary, scary thoughts.
    “Who’s your . . . ah . . . elderly friend . . . oh gamiseme tora .” The puck pulled his arm away so quickly, it was a wonder he didn’t yank it completely out of its socket. “The skila from the Sarzo piece of