Chapter Six

Cal

My grip tightened on the handle of my favorite knife under my pillow, black matte, serrated and deadlier than my bite, until I caught Promise's perfume again; orchid this time and brief, like she merely peeked in to check on us. I'd left the door open last night. Thoughts of the Auphe near made me want nothing between me and Nik save for his bedroom door. Because I was wrong about the whole they could sleep together without sleepingtogether thing, they were just so damned quiet that I never woke up from it before. I did, however, wake up from Dante's little coos of complaint or discomfort every three hours, which is how I learned my brother was still getting laid, despite our living arrangement –lucky bastard.

I also learned I was better at changing diapers half asleep.

I didn't even open my eyes when Promise left the room, too tired to care that I was sprawled over my bed with half the sheets kicked to the floor. I was sure there was drool and bed head, but who the fuck cared? Promise was as good as my sister and Nik wasmy brother, they could deal with the less than pretty image of a very sleepy Cal. Another set of near silent footfalls approached the bedroom. Niko, obviously. I stirred, but didn't have the energy to open my eyes yet. Why was he coming in too? Was something wrong with Dante?

"Damn, I wish I had a camera," Niko snickered softly through his nose. I peeled my eyes back and turned my head so I could see him standing over the crib. His gray eyes fixed on me and he shook his head in amusement. Shaking off some of the pins in needles that crept up my arm and gathering my legs out of the tangled sheets, I slipped off the bed and walked over to see what was so damned funny they had to wake me up after the night I'd just had.

Dante was still out cold –better be, I changed his diaper, gave him a sippy cup of juice, and even attempted to tell him the story about Little Red Riding Hood. The Grimm version, no son of mine was going to believe in those sissy Disney versions. The amusement factor came in the wayhe was out cold, almost exactly as I'd been on the bed. Sheets kicked to the bottom of the crib, legs akimbo and knotted in the mess. Arms stretched long over head and in one hand was a hard plastic fork from his dinner the night before, which he hadn't actually used during the meal. "I have no idea how he got a hold of that."

"Does it matter?" Niko hummed. "Maybe we should start him out with throwing knives."

"Sounds like a plan," I conceded. I scratched at my head and meandered away from the crib to put on a shirt. Or maybe take a shower. Instead I dropped back down on the bed and buried my face in the pillow. "Wake me in two hours."

And, hallelujah, he actually did. He actually let me crash for another two hours, then he set Dante on me. I woke when I heard Niko come back in the room, heard him take Dante out of the crib, whispering for him to 'get him'. And within seconds I felt the bed sag and little hands thrust against my back as if he were trying to give me chest compressions and missing the point. I glared over my shoulder, slung my arm over my head and dragged him to the mattress beside me.

"What do you want now?" I growled at him as he squealed. He still smelled like soap from his bath the night before and that floweriness that Robin had coined as foxglove. Dante mewled softly and pulled at my hair. It was strange having him against me, tucked under my arm and nuzzling his round face to my shoulder. There were few that had been in my bed other than me and of them Cassie was the only one to ever 'nuzzle' against me. The thought had me shift and wrap both arms around Dante, rolling onto my back and cradling his head to my chest. "What am I going to do with you, hm?"

"Maa?" he asked, half muffled as he teethed at my hair still in his little fist. I felt the lump that had been forming tighten like horse pill horizontal down my throat. I stared up at the ceiling, taking in a few deep breaths.

"Yeah, I miss her too."

Niko cleared his throat, yeah I knew he was still there, but he'd been watching me with such a sappy look that I didn't want to upset my stomach. I rocked my head to the side to look at him and rolled my eyes at that smug little smile on his lips. "Stop looking at me like that, you're making me nauseous."

"You two are just adorable." I threw my pillow at him. He ducked. "Now get up. We have to talk."

I groaned. The morning didn't improve when Dante decided that he was going to pretend to be a tumor on my calf. Let me say that taking a shower while he played with the shampoo bottle was not the bath time fun I usually enjoyed. It certainly killed my morning hormones though. And it was amusing to watch him squirt out the entirety of Niko's foul tasting toothpaste into the sink as I brushed my own. Not so amusing, however, to have him grabbing for my razor when I tried to shave away my three day old scruff.

Promise had vacated the apartment at some point. Niko was alone in the kitchen preparing his usual morning smoothie slop. Alone until Dante pranced over to him like a retarded puppy. Without skipping a beat, Niko scooped him up under his rump and deposited him on the rigged high-chair we came up with. It consisted of three phonebooks and a fleece blanket; precarious, but Dante seemed to be well balanced enough to remain seated while we kept an eye on him. Uncle Niko had a plastic bowl of dry Cheerios, halved grapes, and banana slices set out with a sippy cup all ready for the little hellion. And a full bowl for me with the milk set next to it. I refrained from making any comments about domestication, since big brother was doing me a lot of favors with the kid and I knew it wouldn't stop any time soon.

Dante dove right into breakfast, getting more of the o's on the table than in his mouth. I eased down beside him, close enough to catch him on this side and grab him if he teetered the other way on the chair. "I think he's still teething."

"Probably, all his teeth aren't in yet. It takes time."

I poured some milk on my cereal and dug in as well. As bland as it was it was still better than imitation egg white omelets, especially because I could put sugar on Cheerios, where no amount of ketchup could make imitation egg whites taste good. It was one of the few overly processed foods that I didn't like. "So talk?" I urged, stealing a banana slice from Dante's bowl. He glared at me, actually glared at me with his cheeks puffed up. I tried not to laugh.

Niko wordlessly dumped some more bananas into both of our bowls, then went about cutting a second for his smoothie. I figured he wanted to 'talk' about Dante and/or the job. I also figured he was thinking about stepping out of the job and that was probably killing him. Not only was it a kidnapping, but it was the kidnapping of an eight year old girl. That didn't sit well with me and I was the king of assholes. "You thinking about bailing on the Wencas?"

"Considering it."

"Probably wouldn't look too good. Definitely put a bad mark on our currently flawless record."

Niko ignored my sarcasm. "I just don't know how to finish this without putting Dante in danger."

I snorted. "I don't think it can get much worse than the Grendels after his toddling ass." Niko shot me a look for the foul language; funny, how he thought one more scowl would stop me. "Simple. I'll track down Delilah tonight and you can babysit. I'll figure out where the baby cannibal smoke demon trickster is and the next night you and Robin can take out the she-pack and get her back to mommy while I read Dante a bedtime story."

"Simple as that," Niko repeated with a jaundiced look as he blended his breakfast. I waited until he was done.

"You have a better idea that doesn't involve putting the little kid in the same position Dante would be in if he didn't have us?" Niko stared at me. Yeah, sometimes those little moments of compassion came out of nowhere, but this was hitting a little close to home this time. I didn't like dividing our forces –it never went well when we did– but I trusted Goodfellow to protect my brother as valiantly as he defended his manhood and I wasn't willing to leave Dante alone for a second without Niko or me there to put a bullet or blade into any Auphe that tried to lay a hand on him. So this seemed to be the only way. Because I didn't fancy a Wendigo being pissed at me for abandoning her child to the wolves.

"You'll seek out Delilah tonight without tipping her off and we'll see from there. And Robin will go with you."

"Come on, the puck will only cramp my style."

Niko gave me a look that declared the subject over and decided, then he turned to the sink to pour the concoction into a travel cup. It didn't smell too bad today, mostly like bananas and grass. "I'm going to meet with Mickey and see if he has any information about the Lupa that might be able to help us. Can you handle being here with Dante for a few hours?"

"Sure, I'll take him down to the Circle, toss some darts and grab some beers." I was joking, but Niko didn't seem to appreciate it. In fact he looked as if he considered it a threat. "I'm not holing him up in our apartment for the rest of his life, Nik."

"If someone were to see him—"

"I'm not actually going to take him out to the Ninth Circle; I'm not an idiot. I'll stay around the humans. The park or something. To them, he'll just look like a cute little kid. Hell, maybe I can pick up some chicks. Not only am I a single dad, but a widower as well."

"Cal."

I stared at the table, grazing my nails along the grain. It didn't hurt until I said it aloud. In my head, it was just a means to push through, but passing my lips it hurt. I was pissed. At Castiella, yeah, I was pissed. She never told me. She lied to me. She fucking died on me and left me this crazy mess in the form of a toddler I didn't even know what I could and couldn't feed. But what hurt the most, what pissed me off the most, was that she wasn't here. I needed her and she wasn't here. She kinda had that MO though, from what Goodfellow told us. Like a summer breeze, always welcomed, but never there when you were sweating bullets.

"I'll keep him out of sight, but I'm not locking my son away from the world. We spent too many years hiding from our lives and the possibilities there in...I'm not letting Dante live the life we did. It's just not going to happen."

Niko sighed and pinched his long nose, but didn't argue. He was out the door ten minutes later, casting a pleading look my way, but knowing it wouldn't break my resolve (or stubbornness, whichever made him feel better). "I won't be long."

"Meet you at Battery park." I wasn't staying inside. I refused. Mostly because I didn't want to see what damage Dante could do given an entire day indoors. So I wrestled with him to get on his little sweater and tugged the hood over his dark hair. It was May in New York, but a cold front had put a chill in the air and mostly I wanted to avoid anyone seeing those tell-tale Leandros eyes.

Promise didn't bring us a stroller, but honestly I wouldn't be caught dead pushing one of those sidewalk-hogging banes of the human world. He could walk and I could carry him, which just meant no Eagle or Glock. I kept the .38 on my ankle and my knife at my waist, banking on paternal instinct to do the rest. And if I actually had any, we would just have find out in the thick of it. I doubt the humans of the New York rat race would pose much of a threat.

We were out of the house a half hour after Niko. I left the dishes and half eaten grapes on the table just to remind him of how much I loved him. I walked, not really trusting the subways. Too many nonhumans utilized the transportation system to get from one territory to the next. I'd smelt at least one monster on the rail every day I'd used the subway; I wasn't risking it.

So I walked. With Dante on my hip. And, as much as I joked, he was –no kidding– a fucking babe magnet. With my presence on a busy street, usually humans veer off to the nearest shop or corner without really understanding why, but with Dante making big, gray doe-eyes at them more than a few people offered smiles or cooed to him as we passed. I even got a few sultry smiles from a woman or two. Apparently, to them, I looked like dad of the year.

I was happy to note that Dante didn't seem like a total shut in. He startled at the break-retarders of a truck or the blare of an aggressive car horn, but for the most part he just peered curiously around like a casual observer. He wasn't surprised by the smells or sights, which had me believe he'd been outside frequently with his mother. Half of that might have been on the run, but he'd at least seen a sky that wasn't a static gray.

I took him up Broadway to watch the peddlers sing and perform for cash and coin near Central Park. The artists there were mostly human and the ones that weren't human knew enough to ignore the half Auphes as best they could, if they sensed us at all. Not to say they wouldn't tell a friend, but I doubted it since they probably valued their life a bit more than for gossip.

I had no idea what to feed him, but I figured if Cheerios weren't too difficult a classic soft pretzel would be fine. And hey, it doubled as a teething ring. A very messy-when-wet teething ring.

I never intended to be a father. Let's face it, I was a lot of things and none of those things fell into the paternal category. But I also never expected my child to be so easy-going. Never imagined what my child would be like until yesterday, seeing how I never wanted to chance a new kind of hell spawn gracing the Earth. Dante was a pleasant surprise. Never crying, pretty obedient, a little reckless, but hell that was a given considering his parents.

"Oh, how adorable!" I cringed at the squeal. I'd stopped to sit on a bench between two feuding hotdog vendors; taking a break to clean my son up a bit. For the most part people admired Dante from afar or in passing. I was still half Auphe and that usually kept even the curious ones at bay. Avert thine eyes from that which was death and murder embodied. I tried not to look up from tugging pieces of wet, mushy pretzel off Dante's hoodie as he continued to half bite, half gum at the remaining loop. Maybe they would go away.

"What's his name?" Or not. I sighed and turned to the girl. If she came much closer to the bench I feared Dante might growl at her like he did Promise. He didn't seem to like strangers. I patted his chubby thigh when I heard a little rumble in his throat, true to form. I shared his pain.

"He's still learning to socialize, could you, uh, take a step back?" The brunette –pretty girl with long black waves that covered her shoulders and her small chest– took an immediate step back.

"Does it bite?" she tried to joke through a laugh.

"He might." Her laugh died.

She looked Hispanic, but dressed like a college hippie. Behind her were two guys, one that seemed more the computer club type than frat boy and the other…the other was a hunter. I could see it in his eyes; he was both predator and prey. And just behind him was a vision of both my dreams and nightmares. My breath actually caught and I wanted to run. Oh, did I want to run as fast as I could away from the horribly awkward conversation that was about to happen.

"Cal?"

How did I not see it coming? I wandered to this part of the city, away the hustle of main streets, because I knew it well and I knew it to be a nicer, more human, part of town. Our first New York apartment wasn't far by subway. There was an ice cream shop Nik and I used to frequent here, not that either of us had a yen for rocky road, but because there had been a psychic that used to hold court in that shop. She read you through touch, told you (mostly) what you needed to know and you bought a sundae to keep the old foggie that owned the place in business.

And she was glorious. A mix of many human races that gave her smooth amber skin and coppery curls, freckles from cheek to cheek and a smile that could rival every poem ever written about the sun. I fell in love with her, Georgie Porgie pudding pie. I tried so hard not too and she kicked down my barriers with a smile and a kiss. But then, she was hurt because of me. She was kidnapped and traumatized because of me. And that just put it all into perspective. I couldn't have her because it would kill her.

Fuck, the second female I fell in love with had faced death dozens of times and served it its own head on a platter and she still died because of the Auphe, my unwanted family. But long before that I knew it could happen to George, easily. I wanted her to look into our future to see if there were the average fights between lovers or me (or her) standing before a funeral casket. She wouldn't. For as much as she could see, she was willing to see only a fraction. It spoiled the surprise, or whatever was supposed to happen would happen, or something equally aggravating that she used to say to avoid the truth of the matter. The truth being I could get her killed or I could kill her and in the end that wasn't a risk I was willing to take.

She hadn't changed one bit. Well, maybe a little. Her body had become a little more womanly, hips broadening, chest filling out. Nothing too drastic, just the subtle things any man with testosterone would notice. Her hair was longer, even longer than before Hob hacked it off to send it to me like a wrapped bloody finger; I was happy to get the braid of hair when one considered all the possibilities to send a threat with. The sun-kissed curls fell below her shoulders, partially pulled back so little ringlets fell across her cheeks, which were still as freckled as I remembered. George's was a flawed beauty, but the air about her made her beyond alluring.

"George, what are you doing here?" I didn't get up from the bench. If I got to my feet I would have probably grabbed Dante and fled. One of the reasons I said we couldn't be together was because I knew we could never have a family. And Georgina was the family type. So sitting with a little boy that obvious looked like my baby clone was probably not going to be received well.

"Just finished finals," she offered. "My friends wanted to see New York to celebrate." She glanced between the two guys, gaze lingering on the one to her left for a split second longer. I eyed him up, the hunter. Tall, maybe six foot, lithe, but I wouldn't say he spent all his time behind a computer. Maybe track or soccer or maybe he was a literal hunter; going out to snag a stag or some pheasant. He was handsome, I guessed. Strong jaw, sharp nose, careless brown hair, and nondescript hazel eyes. Nothing to write home about, though back in the day I knew Robin would have tried to have a go at him. His friend was a little chubby, but still tall enough to pull it off without looking fat. The four of them made a strange motley crew, but that was to be expected when it came to George.

"Georgie, you know him?" the Latina brunette asked.

"Uh, yeah." George was just as uncomfortable as I was, which was a first, and she glanced at Scarecrow the hunter again. He had to be her boyfriend, either that or she told her friends about me and hadn't ever expected us to meet. "This is Caliban Leandros..."

All of them panned disbelieving eyes on me, sizing up or studying or just plain shocked. Ah, yeah, she told them about me, but the question was how much? Scarecrow flipped his keys in his hands; not so slyly placing one between his fingers so it could be used as a weapon when punching. I snickered at him, pointedly dropping my eyes to his make-shift weapon. "Not going to help you at all, slick."

"Josh," George supplied and ran her hand down his arm to still it. "And there's no need for that anyway." She gave her boyfriend a pointed look. "Cal, isn't going to hurt you. Calm down."

'Josh' didn't seem to believe her at all and continued to scowl at me; waiting for me to sprout horns and bull rush them, no doubt. I frowned and brushed my hand over Dante's crown. He was getting antsy and a hostile gaze on us wasn't helping sate the soft growl in his throat. "You told them too much."

"Probably," she answered, regaining her familiar carefree tone. The one I both adored and sometimes hated. Mostly hated when she talked about the danger she was in or had been in with that lackadaisical c'est la viemanner.

I was a little pissed that she would be blasé about that dropped bomb though. All the times I asked her for help and she denied me for the balance of the future or whatever, but she can tell her college friends about the monster she used to date. "You tell them too much and you don't tell me anything. How does that work for you?"

'Josh' continued to glare daggers at me, probably wishing to shove that car key into my eye, but with George's fingers still touching his forearm he couldn't help but stay put like a good little lap dog. George brushed a copper ringlet behind her ear, calling my attention back to her. "They ask about the present and the past. Things that can't be changed. What you were asking of me—"

No way was I having this conversation again. I stood from the bench and hoisted Dante against my hip. She was telling her study-buddies about the shit that went on underground and in the darkest alleys. She was telling them things that could easily get them killed if they strayed too far into the night. And she was stilltrying to say that she wouldn't look, because things weren't supposed to be changed. So her friends were supposed to know everything her uncle was trying to keep secret from the humans with the Vigil? They created an entire organization to hide the truth from and protect the humans and she believed her little circle of friends needed to be above that.

"Cal, I looked!"

I stopped short and turned just enough to glare at her skeptically. George frowned. She didn't do that often either. I watched her wet her lips and pull her hand away from the Scarecrow. "I looked and I didn't see myself there. I'll admit that scared me a little. So I looked again and I saw her." She ducked her head. "And I didn't want to look anymore."

My eyes narrowed. 'Her' couldn't be many. I doubted George would make the misconception of some girl she briefly saw in a vision being my girlfriend just because she was there. George would know better than that. No, it would have to be an intimate moment that she saw. One that would leave her with no doubts in her mind that I had moved on. Which left two 'hers', depending on when she finally got the balls to look and depending on how far she looked into the future, because if it was anytime beyond the present I had no idea who it'd be. So either George saw a love not known yet, me banging Delilah (not too intimate in the emotional sense, but there were plenty of moments to make George uncomfortable), or me with Cassie...at any point in time with Cassie.

"He's hers, right?" I glanced at Dante, whom she motioned to. So it was Cassie. There was no way George would see Delilah and I as a happy little family. We slept together for fun and convenience and it was obvious. "He has your eyes."

"Among other traits," I intoned. "He wasn't planned. I didn't just say those things—"

"I know. You have no reason to explain." Georgina took in a deep breath and stepped in front of her friends. "So I'm just going to say this: I'll always be curious, what might have, could have, happened, but I don't regret anything. Because I'm happy and I know you're happy with her. That's all I need to know, so I'm not going to look anymore. Not for any reason."

She approached me and Dante. A hand out for him to subtly sniff before she brushed it over the side of his face. He didn't growl, sensing no danger from George. In fact, he didn't even watch her in suspicion. His gray eyes were fixed on me and soon George's were too. "Cal?" Her fingers swept under my lashes before I could back away; the tip came back wet. I scrubbed at my eyes with my shirt sleeve and cleared my throat. "Caliban, what wrong?"

"You should've looked farther." I forced a laugh, but my jaw clenched in the next moment, making a little snap as I tried to control the tension in my throat and neck. "She's dead." I didn't look at George or her friends, didn't want the pity. So who the fuck knew why I even said it at all. "His mother's dead, so...not exactly happy, but you're right. I had my moments, which is more than I could ask for with my life."

I adjusted Dante on my hip, burying my nose into his foxglove hair for a moment and smiling. "Curious, but without regret." I nodded. "That sounds about right."

"Cal..."

"Don't. You know pity just pisses me off," I told her. I brushed my free hand under her chin, clucking her there despite her boyfriend tensing up considerably behind her. "Just keep doing what you're doing. And find a better boyfriend, he seems like a bigger douchebag than me."

"Fuck off, hell spawn."

"Josh!" George snapped at him, then she turned and pushed me in the shoulder. "Don't instigate him. He's just concerned about me, wants to protect me. Just like you did. It's annoying, frankly, but at least you had a reason to believe you might break me. Not a good one, but..."

I smiled, genuinely this time. She had changed. Just a little. Subtle new physique and brazen new persona. She'd always been stubborn, always said what she felt without fail, but now...it was different. Because with me she thought she knew what she wanted, but now she seemed to know exactly what she needed. George put one hand on Dante's knee and one on my chest. She wasn't reading us, she wasn't that crazy. Maybe it was just to get Dante's attention as well as my own. "I looked farther than this. So," she tilted her head to one side, copper curls cascading like a waterfall on fire. "Don't lose hope."

She dotted a kiss to my cheek and took another moment to gaze at Dante and what 'could've been'. "He's beautiful." Another beautiful monster. There was no way to know if George would have produced a child like Dante; if he would have been less Auphe or more. No way of know, which made us curious. But she walked away holding Josh's hand tight in hers with a smile on her face and a knowing glint in her eyes. She knew, not what could have been, but what needed to be.

"He's cute," her boho-dressed friend muttered to George, smiling at me over her shoulder. I snorted and started off in the opposite direction.

Farther than this, hm? Did that mean I could actually find someone else? Romance and love were in my near future and all that shit? I somehow doubted it, but then again I never hoped for Cassie and she appeared out of nowhere. Never expect. She always told me. Never expect and you'll always be ready for anything.

I bounced Dante and cringed at the warmth I felt under the fabric of his pants and diaper. Yeah, never expected this and still wasn't prepared in the least. Dante made a face at me, nose wrinkle and mouth puckered in discomfort. "Yeah, you did that. You proud?" I'd only stuffed one diaper in the inside pocket of my jacket, which meant we would have to start heading home soon. Which was a little disappointing; I kinda liked walking around New York without being a social pariah.

I ducked into the nearest Starbucks and bought Dante a chocolate milk so I could get the bathroom key. Thankful that the corporate coffee shop was progressive enough to have a changing table in the men's room, I made quick work of his diaper. It wasn't just pee this time and I was going to kill Niko for giving him tofu and peas last night, because it smelled like the rotting insides of a revenant. I slapped the sticky sides of the clean diaper closed, shimmied his little jeans up, and lifted Dante off the changing table. "Better?"

"Yah," he replied.

"Yeah?" I laughed, setting him back on my hip. I left the bathroom with hope that they had a good air freshener somewhere.

Dante cuddled into me a little more than he had been when we stepped back out into the street. His head tucked against my neck and his hands fisted in my shirt and jacket. He'd refused the chocolate milk, so the box took the place of his last diaper in my jacket. From the moment we got his trust he'd pretty much eaten and drank everything we set before him. The refusal was a little unnerving. He had chugged the chocolate milk I made him at the apartment and I doubted he knew the difference between chocolate syrup milk and the fake healthy Starbucks chocolate milk.

"What's wrong, Ace?" He nuzzled my neck, then I felt his body tense and a low rumble start in his chest, quiet enough that it was barely audible. Then Isensed it, or rather I smelled it. The scent of werewolf. I clutched Dante a little more firmly and touched the tips of my fingers to the handle of my concealed knife. They were approaching from behind and not in the just-passing-through manner. Three of them, splitting off to come up on either side of me with one at my back.

Dante had lifted his head from my shoulder, peering behind us and still growling. I hoped to all that was holy his eyes weren't blood red. That would just be my luck, announcing to the Kin I had an Auphe baby in my arms. I turned down the closest alley, trying to get out of the populated street. It would corner me, but I could travel home if I had to. Dante was probably born with blood on his hands so I also had no qualms against slicing and dicing a couple of wolves in front of him.

I set him down on his tiny sneakers behind me and turned with my blade out. What I saw made me let off a growl of my own. Three females stood in the opening of the alley, all three wrapped in tight clothing that showed off every well-earned muscle and curve. All three looked of high-breed; able to look completely human or completely wolf if they so chose. But I knew the female in the center, the Alpha, wasn't high breed. I knew how long it had taken her to get to her position and I knew what she had to do to get there. I knew the exposed scars on her abdomen had made her sterile and I knew her voice went low and erotic when she wanted something. I also knew she liked rough sex.

Delilah. Exotic, dangerous Delilah with her svelte body wrapped in black leather and her long white-blond hair pulled back into a high pony tail. I stared into her amber eyes, warning her as best I could without words to leave now. Because I would defend Dante with my life and I would kill her if I had to. No, strike that, I would kill her in front of Dante if I had to; if it were just me in this alley she would be dead already. I flipped the knife, wishing I'd listened to Nik when he asked to me stay home, but how was I to know today was return of the living exes day?

"What do we have here? Pretty boy and his little lost blackbird."

I tightened my grip on the handle. Dante hissed and clutched my pant leg. This just wasn't my day.