CHAPTER TEN

CAL

It took everything I had not to pull the trigger. A testament to Cassie's claim that I wasn't becoming more and more Auphe with each day despite the logical web Grimm had cast in my brain. When faced with the barrel of a gun and those kind of eyes bearing down the sight at you, Caliban would have let a bullet loose without question. The temptation was there, even after recognition clicked and I realized where I knew this hunter from. George's hunter. The douchebag of a boyfriend that told me my son was better off without me before recanting the statement like the gentleman he pretended to be.

My jaw was set and my free hand was pressed back against Niko's chest. For several reasons: one, I didn't want big brother shoving me aside in case one of the guns went off and a stray bullet hurt someone who didn't deserve it (namely the bystanders I could smell inside the penthouse). Two, I didn't want big brother making the decision not to shoot for me. And three, I wanted him to realize I wasn't going to shoot and have faith in that choice. I'd let Niko down a bit lately, let the mask slip too much, and part of me wanted to have that unflappable confidence in non-monster me he used to have clear as the glint of his katana slicing through the air.

It was still a stalemate. The blond human wasn't lowering his weapon and by his own set jaw he had no intention to until I lowered mine. He was at a disadvantage though. I could kill him. While he didn't intend to lower the gun, when recognition hit his eyes as well he no longer had the intention to shoot it. He also wasn't left-handed; he had a slight angle on the gun. He compensated well for it, but it made his shot avoidable if I was quick enough. I was quick enough.

One gate and I'd be behind him, Niko could dodge the startled bullet this pitiful sheep let loose as well as the one that sailed through the human's head. An easy kill. A waste of time, I reminded myself. Another impulsive action that would let Niko down, piss my lover off, and show my son what a bad role model I was.

I slid my finger from the trigger, pressing it to the side of the gun as I lifted the barrel vertical. The guy looked like shit anyway. His right eye was slightly swollen and purple all around the socket, his lip split and bruised yellow and violet too. His right arm was in a cast and I doubted those were the only injuries. Why make his day worse? Oh, yeah, because I hated him. "Abusive relationship, kinky sex, or lost bar fight?"

The Berretta lowered only enough that he didn't intend to shoot me in the head. A gut shot would be all the more painful, but I was pretty sure he only held onto the weapon because he was in a house full of things that could kill him in a heartbeat. Poor shit had to be pissing his pants. But why was he here? Ice ran up my spine when the reasons for his unexpected visit hit me. "Where's George?"

"I'm here," she called and came into view as she pulled her boyfriend –ah, fiancé look at that cute little ring and contemplate why that pissed me off later – back into the penthouse so Niko and I could enter. I was relived to see her. Her boy would need a pretty dire reason to come to me for anything and her safety would probably top that list. "Hey, Cal."

It was a party in the penthouse. Promise was standing near to George, probably in the middle of their reunion when I came home. Dante sat at the kitchen island, relaxed and surveying closely. Cassie was in the kitchen, but I had scented her a lot closer to the door when it opened, which meant she had walked away unconcerned even when I was staring down a 9mm and threatening with a 45. I smiled at her for the unspoken meaning there. Her confidence in me hadn't diminished in the slightest, but then she hadn't seen me when she was gone.

I bent to receive George's hug, looking her over for injuries as she moved. She'd been there when whatever had gotten to her fiancé had attacked, but other than a small bruise on her chin and a light cut on her forehead she was unscathed. I mentally gave the hunter credit where I would never do so verbally. He kept her safe and nearly lost his arm in the process. "I somehow doubt this is another happenstance visit to New York," I commented as she greeted Niko too.

"No, this is a request and…a warning, I guess."

"A warning?" Cassie echoed from her leaned position on the island. She was using the counter to hide her stomach, not ready to announce it to my ex-girlfriend. I wasn't sure if that was for my sake or Connor's, but I would leave it for now. There was no reason for George or her lover to hear about that mess. "You said you needed Cal's help. If that involved blackmailing him into doing so I should have left you to the Wolves."

Wow. I hadn't heard that kind of tone coming from my lover's mouth since she'd met up with a Wendigo I had a one night stand with. "Cassie, George wouldn't threaten me." I wanted to comment on there being no need for jealousy too, but I had a feeling that would just anger her more. As it was the contradiction made her bristle, her wings flashing in and out of existence for all of five seconds then she was back in control.

Cassie shook her head at her own behavior. She hated her bi-polar hormones probably more than me. Control that she used to have during every second of every day was being yanked out from under her feet. "I'm sorry, that was—"

"Understandable," George cut in. She looked just as I remembered her, red curls crowning her head in a cascade of coppery ringlets, her skin the amber hue of a mixed race, and her…self…radiant with knowledge and purity. She was human, the epitome of or more than. She was what god (if there was a god) had in mind when he 'created Eve'. And her honey voice seemed to soothe even Castiella. "It can't be comfortable for you to have me in your home, but you invited me all the same. I appreciate that. And even if Cal can't help me I needed him to know what happened in case...history repeated."

"What happened?" I asked, eyeing her banged up protector again to see if I could determine the monster from its bite. Except there were no bite marks. All of his injuries could have been obtained during a normal bar fight, a rough one. "What the fuck is your name again?"

The hunter's jaw tightened in insult and he bit the syllables out through straight teeth. "Josh Dent."

"Nn," I grunted, then looked at George. "You planning on kids?" Her brown eyes widened at a question I would have probably never asked if I hadn't had a family of my own already established. "Just saying you owe it to the first born to name them Harvey." There was a soft breath of a laugh near to me and I thought for sure it was Nik until I saw something akin to a smile pull at Josh Dent's lips. I pointed at him without take my eyes off George. "He just laughed…at a joke I made."

George's smile was much more obvious and pure in its happiness. Her brown eyes almost looked wet. "You've changed."

She didn't say anymore, but nodded a couple of time to indicate this change was good. Good enough that Josh could let off a chuckle in my presence instead of sporting that scowl of his all the time. Niko brushed by me from behind, casting his fingers across my back as if to agree with George. My brother made his way over to Cassie, helping my lover as she went about making both tea and coffee for our guests. My son's eyes were still fixed on me.

"Well, while the hosts get the drinks together, lets sit down and you can tell me the big bad that is hunting you down." I motioned for them to go into the living room, surprised that even Josh conceded to the suggestion.

I reclined back in my leather chair, letting George and the huntsman relax across from me in the matching sofa. Not that there was much relaxing to be had. Josh was twitchy. He watched me with hawk eyes, daring an occasional assessment toward my son at the island. Even Niko was rewarded with suspicion when he walked over to Promise with his usual soundless gate.

Josh was in a den of lions and he knew it.

"So who or what kicked your ass?" I inquired. Georgina held her back straight, hands in her lap. Nervous. I didn't see George nervous often. Even trapped under the hands of a malevolent puck and ambitious Wolves she held strength. Always knowing I'd break down the doors and save her. She hesitated now. She didn't want to tell me. For the first time she was doubting I'd be there in the doorway when she looked for help. "George?"

"It's Hobgoblin. He's returned with the same intended goal."

The soft leather of the chair was suddenly as uncomfortable as nails on a plank of splintering wood. I sat forward. "That is impossible. I sent him on a one-way trip to hell."

George's round shoulders pulled up to her ears in a shrug. "He must have gotten out. Pucks are known for their manipulative—"

"Not with the Auphe. There is no way," I countered, waving her off.

Niko had rejoined the conversation in interest at my side as he tried to conclude a different angle. "Georgina, you're sure it was Hob? Cal and I have seen what a room full of pucks can look like. It is difficult for even a trained eye to draw differences between one or another. We had to mark Robin to separate him from his kin."

George was shaking her head before my brother even finished. It was a resolute gesture and neither of us pressed further. She looked, she read him, and fabricated memories couldn't fool a seer of her caliber.

"He attacked you, but left you both alive?" I questioned. "Hob isn't the type to leave loose ends. He wants George for her gift, but why leave Josh alive? If he wanted to scare you back to me, murdering your boyfriend seems like the most efficient way to do that."

"Because that's what you would have done?" Josh snapped callously, challenging me to disagree.

I grinned, baring teeth. "Yup."

"He wanted her to get here safely," Niko interjected. He placed a hand on my shoulder. Anchoring me to the chair as well as warning me to be a good boy. Don't scare the guests, Cal, it's in poor manners. I rolled my eyes, but let Niko go on. "Hob set this up meticulously. He would know the dangers Georgina would face reentering this world. She holds his prize, damaging the container is his prerogative. Not to mention he knew your contempt for a new lover would distract you."

I was going to point out that George could date whoever she wanted, but that would have been a lie. Even with Cassie at my side, whom Hob didn't know about, I still didn't like the choice Georgina made in a significant other. There would be contention, even if it was just two stubborn, male egos slamming racks together like rams.

"Well, I guess we should locate the damned crowns again. He can't do shit if he doesn't have one," I groused.

"What does Hob intend?" Dante's light voice carried to the living room like a whisper. He hadn't moved from his seat across from his mother. Castiella paused in setting out the mugs on the island. Motherly instincts picking up on something or just surprised by his curiosity with the discussion.

"I'll explain it to you later, Champ. It's a long story." I raked a hand through my hair sighing with my nose to my wrist. I lifted my eyes to George. "One of the crowns is in Tumulus. The Auphe grabbed it when I was fighting of Cererbus. The other—"

"Please explain it to me now," Dante demanded. He stood from the island and approached with enough tension in his body that Josh moved for his gun.

I pointed at the human and growled to warn him what would happen if he didn't stay his hand, then panned my gaze over to Dante. My boy didn't make demands often even at his age, which meant this was more than him feeling left out.

Niko stepped in to give him a condensed version. Leaving out a lot, including my undercover stint with the Wolves, our trek down to Romani land, and how we saved Snowball's runt as well as George and Niko himself. He kept it to the basics. Two crowns both holding the power to transfer 'strengths' or talents from one person to another. Hob wanted George's gift of seeing and he needed Rom blood to complete the ritual.

"He nearly killed your uncle," I added, when Niko decided to gloss over that information too. "And he hates my guts for chucking him to the Auphe. You feel included now?"

Dante's bowed lips thinned to a tight seam. "I wish you had told me before."

"And why would I do that? We didn't really expect a sequel."

His gray eyes flickered toward the empty dinning area. His furrowed eyebrows curved up toward the bridge of his nose. "Hob survived the Auphe by owing them a favor," my son explained. I shrugged off Niko's hand and bent over my knees. Pieces were falling into place and it wasn't a picture of a daffodil field they were making.

"Did you in turn owe him a favor?" I hedged. His eyes were upturned, guilty. I wet my lips. "Hob was the old acquaintance you were helping these past few days?"

"I owed him a debt. His silence was the only means for me to leave the Auphe. I didn't know his history with you."

"Which crown did you give him?" I waited, but Dante's expression reverted to that baffled-puppy look I was accustomed to. Actually, it didn't matter which crown. Hob had been wearing the second when I kicked him into Tumulus. Either way… "Did you retrieve the crown from Tumulus?"

Dante didn't even have the courtesy to show regret. He just responded with a candid, "Yes."

I shot up out of my chair, startling not only my son, but George and Josh too. "You went into Tumulus! Are you insane? You assured me it wasn't dangerous, Dante! We just got you back from them and you just waltzed back into their cage?"

"It wasn't dangerous. They will not attack me at present. I know this."

"Did they tell you that? Promised to wait for you to come of age before you're drafted into the ranks of Satan?" The words came out with a sharp, bitter growl. I couldn't comprehend the stupidity of that concept. Me, king of the idiots and I couldn't comprehend that level of stupid.

"Why are you mad at me? I don't understand," Dante asked softly. He was showing remorse now. Pained by my berating him. "I didn't lie and I had no knowledge of this situation. If I had I would not have made the choices I did."

"Go to your room," I hissed. I couldn't deal with this right now. Hob knew. That asshole knew Dante was my son and knew the boy had gone home. He used Dante to get to me. If Dante had been stolen by the Auphe the puck's debt to them would have been realized without repercussion. The fact that my kid popped into Tumulus and got the Calabassa with ease was a bonus. That didn't mean Hob wouldn't try and manipulate my son back in to Tumulus to get him out of the way, to devastate me in a time that I would need my head on straight. It was all a ploy. Hurting Josh and putting him on the defensive to antagonize me, gathering us all together like fish in a barrel, and plucking the metaphoric strings wrapped around my son's neck that still shackled him to the Auphe. It was a shock to my system and my psyche and it was a punch well placed by Hob to my gut.

"Go to your room," I hissed again. "Think about why I'm mad at you right now. We'll talk when you figure it out."

Dante's mouth parted in confusion, almost pouting like his mother. It was an expression usually endearing in its innocence. "I'd rather help now."

"Dante, you heard your father." Cassie came around behind our son. Motioning to his room with a nod, since her arms were full with the tray of mugs, sugar and creamer. Her tone was just as firm and cold as mine; I was glad she was on my side in this. Dante, on the other hand, looked wounded and perplexed. He retreated nonetheless, shutting his bedroom door quietly behind him.

I turned to our guests as Cassie set down the tray. Neither of them looked particularly aghast or disquieted by the show. George looked a little guilt-stricken, but this was hardly her fault. Josh, after catching my eye, finally leaned back in his seat. He propped his ankle to his other knee. Apparently, ranting like an over-protective papa made me human enough for a tenuous glimpse of trust.

I ran my hand over Cassie's spine as she moved to let Promise bring over the pots of coffee and hot water. The touch was to thank her for her support and she responded with a kiss to my cheek. Assurance that I did good, despite the niggling feeling in my stomach.

"So," I sighed, my arm snaking around Cassie's waist. "Hob's apparently got this shit all figured out. How do we fuck up his plans?"

"Kill him." It was Josh's turn to give me a savage smile. The split in his lip cracked a little, but he didn't seem to care.

I lifted my eyebrows, almost smirking myself. "Good plan."

Killing a puck, as Robin might say, was a task far easier spoken than accomplished. As a fellow pan as old as dirt, he was no more pleased with this information than we were. In fact, I saw his tanned complexion fade to a pasty green the moment Hob's name was uttered. Not a color commonly seen when he had so much fuel for his mischievous teasing gathered around the breakfast table. Instead of needling dangerously into Georgina and my history to rile up his best friend or even the obviously uncomfortable newcomer, he kept cursing softly in various languages and running his hand over his face.

Last night hadn't gone very far with discussion considering how many curve balls we had been fielding. The happy couple retired to wherever they were holed up while in NYC shortly after dropping the bomb. We all agreed that even if Hob was already around, he would wait to watch the show for a little while. Like any puck he enjoyed a good story, especially retelling a good story. And rushing in to finish the last chapter would dampen the climax. He wouldn't attack George yet. No, he would wait until I was reinvested in her.

George and Josh had rejoined us for breakfast. Currently, we were clustered around the formal dinning table on Nik and Promise side of the penthouse. Pretty sure, it was the first time we'd ever used it, but the four-seater on the Aupheling side of the sprawling apartment couldn't contain us without exiling some to the island. At the moment, I didn't feel it a good idea to leave anyone out.

Dante never came out of his room last night and when I went to check on him he merely said he 'didn't yet understand the root of my anger'. I'd been ready to explain but he wanted none of it. Saying "An excuse is worse and more terrible than a lie, for an excuse is a lie guarded." Whatever that meant. His mother had coaxed him out for breakfast, but that brought up another issue. Cassie wasn't happy. She put up a good front, cordial and friendly to Georgina and Josh, effortlessly taking to the responsibilities of hostess, by making us a full meal of omelets, bacon, and home fries, but she was reserved – quiet even.

She curled against me at night like any other. Kissed me and told me she loved me, but it all seemed like a loaded gun. Not that I thought she'd attack or throw a tantrum. It just seemed like she had a lot more to say but bit her tongue. Maybe it was just my paranoia of having my current lover and ex in the same room. That tended to bleed contention like a sliced artery.

Family matters were amiably brushed aside for this. Our bond was strong enough to survive the displeasure for the moment, but I needed to watch it. Ex-love or not, family came first.

"This might be the best omelet I've ever had, Cassie," Georgina claimed, attempting to break the tense silence with small talk. George wouldn't lie even to gain favor and Cas seemed to realize this, smiling warmly.

"I've had a while to master the art," she responded. Her appetite hadn't wavered even with our current company and situation of which I was extremely glad for. The stress – facing a foe that nearly bested all of us before – couldn't be helpful for a mother-to-be. "Where are you and Josh staying while here?"

"A hostel in Brooklyn. It's quite nice actually. Newly renovated and clean."

Cassie nodded in response to George's explanation, which doubled as assurance that they weren't endangering Georgina's family and that they were sequestered but not isolated in a rat motel.

Josh was eyeing Dante's plate as if he was waiting for something to move. Probably trying to figure out why the son of an Aupheling was mutely eating egg whites and fruit like his uncle instead of crunching through a fifth piece of bacon like his father. His attention drew to Castiella quiet suddenly when she spoke again, but then so did mine.

"I think perhaps we should open the guest room to them?" her dark eyes flickered between Niko and I. "It would be safer."

The lot of us stared at her. We'd never offered our home to our clients before. Cherish might have stayed with Promise, but Promise hadn't been housing the Leandros family at the time. Plus Cherish was her daughter and that turned out horribly.

George might not have been a typical client by any means, but that didn't make the suggestion any less ludicrous. Her intimate knowledge of us and our history together should have been a deterrent, especially for Cassie.

As I gaped at her, Niko aimed for discussion. He spoke with caution though, as if he knew there were landmines scattered around us. "Are you sure you're comfortable with that Castiella?"

My lover sighed. A small smile fleeted over her features, but it was more rueful than genuine. "I know what George is to Cal. I know what she did for him. I don't see her as a threat though, and I can overcome my discomfort to see her safe."

Sometimes I forgot how different Cassie was from normal girls. Sometimes I forgot how much more experienced she was in life…and how much she was like Niko on that bleeding-heart considerate level.

She placed her fork beside her finished plate and offered a smile much stronger than the last. "Hob is trying to unbalance us with needless defensives and jealousies. Maybe we should be big boys and girls and not let that happen."

After a generous pause, Promise chimed in. "We do have the guest room here that we could make up for them."

The guest room was on her and Niko's side. The spare room next to mine was now Dante's. It left space between George and me. A metaphoric barrier that should have been enough to quell any jealous vibes, but this wasn't even about that. There were secrets in his house that George and the huntsman weren't privy to. My second son being the least of them, but still on the list. The first on our secret list was also the first on my list of those I wanted dead.

"No, it's better if you don't," I countered. "It's as good a painting a target on this house. There are other things we have to watch for and I don't want George involved in that." I glanced over at Cassie. "Just like I'd rather you weren't involved in this."

I expected a fight, braced for the insulted glare and a lecture about how whatever her condition she could kick my ass half-asleep. Cassie stared for a moment, mouth moving slightly as if she were nibbling at the inside of her lip, then she nodded. "Okay."

"Mm, what?"

"Okay. Hob is your and Niko's fight. If you need me, I will be there, but I'll stay out of the way in the meantime."

There was a catch. There had to be a catch. Obediently submitting was not in Castiella's repertoire. I crunched slowly though the last slice of bacon on my plate, panning my eyes over to Robin for a little enlightenment on what his best friend of a thousand years was planning. The puck rolled his green eyes, tipping another sip of whiskey into his coffee from the flask he had magically produced from his pocket at the mention of his arch nemesis' name. "It is called respect, Caliban. I know you find it ever so painful to practice such courtesies, but others can show it with aplomb. Take the gift and shut your grease-covered mouth."

I scowled and wiped at said mouth with the back of my hand. There were no grease remnants. I focused on George then, leaving a discussion of Cassie's real intentions between Cassie and I. Save it for later. "I'm not trying to be Discourteous," I said, edging my words with a sidelong glare at Goodfellow. "You know how well-liked I am in this city…in this world. Hob isn't my only enemy and you and your boy don't need to get caught up in a mess when some paien breaks through the window, again, because I pissed of his mom…or killed her."

There was a moment where George sat studying me. She was curious. I could see the twitch in her mouth, the slight tilt of her head. She wanted to know what I was afraid of, because she obviously knew it was fear that drove me to scoot them out. George didn't ask. She gave a simple nod and offered a smile across the table. "We'll be fine where we are. You need to keep your family safe here."

There was a profoundness to her words. A sweet warmth.

"Well, I intend on keeping you safe too."

Beside me Cassie stood from the table, her complexion pallid. She pardoned herself and disappeared into our bedroom. I could hear the door shut. 'Morning' sickness had been plaguing her for the past month or so. An odd mid-pregnancy symptom, but Katherine had said it shouldn't harm either of them considering it wasn't chronic or even daily.

I didn't follow her, as I made up an excuse for her in front of our visitors; that was probably a huge mistake. I still had a long way to go before I became lover or father of the year. A long way to go.