I looked over at Myra. “There’s a lot of flowers in town. A lot of birds.”
“Penguins?” Tish asked.
“You buried it in Mrs. Yate’s yard with her penguin?” I asked.
Tish tipped their head toward Crow. “Penguin and flowers maybe?”
Crow groaned. “You have got to be kidding me. You? You were the one who broke my penguin statue? You buried the spell I’ve been looking for forcenturiesin my flower box? Holy shit that is ballsy. And brilliant. Respect.”
Tish offered a very small smile.
“We need to put that in the vault, pronto,” Myra said.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Crow said, “I’m going to go dig up an old spell.”
“Not without me.” Myra tugged the duffle up and settled the strap on her shoulder.
Crow was already out the door, and Odin followed. Frigg tapped the counter with her knuckles. “I’ll keep an eye on them. Make sure Crow actually hands it over.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Good luck.”
She left with a quick wave over her shoulder.
“Okay, now what are we going to do with you?”
Tish gave me the same little smile. “Keep me?”
“That’s complicated. No, don’t get all mopey looking. You came here because a demon wanted you to deliver stolen items. That’s a lot to deal with. The gods could charge you with theft. They’d be legally in the right to do so.
“And I think you knew exactly what you were doing—no, wait for me to finish—but you were also doing what you were ordered to do by your prince.”
Tish bit their lip and nodded.
“You’ve let demons into town before,” Bathin noted mildly, leaning against the wall, his hands stuffed in his back pockets. “Demons are a lot more conniving and dangerous than ghouls.”
“Demons sign a contract agreeing not to break the laws.”
“Tish can sign the contract.”
“Tish isn’t a demon. There’s a reason we make demons sign a contract. Demons are very contract motivated. I don’t think that’s the same for ghouls.”
Bathin hummed in agreement.
My phone buzzed, and I looked at the screen. A text from Ryder.
All good
I sent him a thumb’s up icon, even though I wasn’t sure exactly what good he was talking about.
“If someone hosted Tish, maybe,” Jean suggested. “Take them under their wing and show them the ropes.”
“It would have to be someone with strong boundaries and communication skills,” I said, thinking through all the people in town.
The thing I wasn’t saying is that it would also have to be someone who could deal with Tish’s natural quirks—mainly eating things and turning into them.
Tish had the potential of getting into a lot of trouble with a skill like that. They needed someone who could see through any shenanigans they might pull.
Bertie shoved her way into the building. “What was that hunter doing on my stage?” she demanded. “I thought you were keeping her away from my event. But there she was, with a gun. Agunon my stage. Do you know how much I have on my plate without dealing with an armed confrontation? Do you know how many details are falling to the wayside, Delaney? Do you know how difficult you have made my life?”
