“Slave driver,” Patrick said, before wincing. “Shit. Sorry, Wade.”
Wade froze, one hand buried in the Cheez-Its box he’d purloined from the pantry, the other clutching Marek’s mobile that Jono had hidden in the hall closet. His pockets were bulging suspiciously. “Um.”
“Is that my phone?” Marek demanded.
“Uh.” Wade glanced at Jono. “No?”
“Try again,” Jono said.
“Empty your pockets,” Patrick told Wade.
Scowling, Wade proceeded to empty his pockets of a candy bar, two sets of car keys, a steak knife that had Patrick rolling his eyes, Jono’s credit card of all things, and a small bottle of vodka.
“You’re under the drinking age,” Patrick said, leaning forward to move the vodka farther down the coffee table.
“Fuck you,” Wade muttered. “I’m an adult. I deserve a drink.”
“Therapy first.”
“Who’s gonna pay for it? You?”
“Yes.” Patrick handed Jono back his credit card before tossing Marek his mobile. “Sorry. He literally can’t help it.”
“He’s stealing our stuff and you’re saying he can’t help it?” Emma asked, not sounding impressed with that explanation.
“He’s a dragon. They hoard things.”
Jono let the others go through the stages of disbelief as he pulled out his wallet and slipped his credit card back into its slot. “Didn’t even feel you nick it. You’re good.”
“If they didn’t have me fighting, they’d put me to work on the streets pickpocketing,” Wade said, sinking into the corner of the couch, his box of Cheez-Its forgotten. He kept his gaze downcast, not looking at anyone.
“Just you?”
Wade shrugged. “There were others.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jono saw Emma open her mouth, but he held up a hand to quiet her. “Are they still alive?”
Wade picked at his borrowed jeans where the fabric stretched over his knee. “Dunno. They were the other night. Doesn’t mean much though. Tloque Nahuaque kills on a whim.”
His voice was back to the flat monotone that made Jono want to gnash his teeth. “Were they werecreatures?”
Wade rubbed at his throat where the collar once sat. “Yeah. Most were.”
“Who the fuck is Tloque Nahuaque?” Leon asked. “Another god?”
“Tezcatlipoca,” Patrick said.
Leon stared at him. “Those names aren’t remotely close to being the same thing. You sure they aren’t two different assholes?”
Jono snorted. “There’s two of the wankers, but the other one is Quetzalcoatl.”
“Tloque Nahuaque is kind of like a title for Tezcatlipoca,” Patrick said. “He’s got a few.”
“In English please?” Leon asked. “I might speak Spanish, but that’s not close to any words I know.”
“Lord of the Near and the Nigh.”
“He’s Aztec, with ties to the Dominion Sect,” Jono added.
