“I am here on behalf of myself,” Considine said. “Because I’m bored, and you’ve been occupying my one consistent source of entertainment in this city. But I’m not opposed to a brief moment of fun if you want to push things.” He tipped his head back and forth, his teeth briefly flashing in a startingly white smile. “What do you think, Slayer: would he last five seconds or one before he started mewling with pain?”
“Ruin,” I warned him.
Gideon stormed inside the House, almost running over the female wizard. Once safely cowering in House Tellier, he turned around and gripped the edge of the door. “Whatever—leave! I rescind your invitation to stand here as Heir. House! Get rid of them!”
“I apologize. We’re going.” I started down the porch stairs.
“Must we?” Considine turned towards his abandoned rocking chair again. “I’ve been wondering how I’d hold up against a House. Finding out would be interesting.”
I charged back up the stairs—ignoring all my finely honed slayer instincts—and grabbed Considine by the wrist. I then turned around and hurried back across the porch, dragging him after me. “We’re going,” I repeated before tucking tail and rushing down the steps.
Considine sighed but followed me as I hurried across the pavers intent on getting back on the public sidewalk, out of reach of House Tellier.
“What happened?” April asked once we reached the public sidewalk. “Binx didn’t catch the entire conversation, but she said it was going downhill.”
I held a finger up to my teammate—a silent request to give me a moment—then turned around to face Considine—who had now replaced House Tellier as the biggest threat since we were on public property. “What was that?”
“That was Gideon Tellier acting shady,” Considine said. “I’m saying it now so I can say I told you so later: you are going to regret not shooting him.”
“No, why are you here?” I asked.
“Oh. I already said why: I was bored.” Considine effortlessly tugged his arm from my grasp, then slipped his hands into his pants pockets. “I figured you had to be somewhere around this city, so I roamed. When I found you, I must say I was quite scandalized that the Curia Cloisters is either chintzy with their backup or incompetent in threat assessment.”
Was he… worried about me? Considine Maledictus was concerned for me, a slayer?
The idea felt crazy and maybe I was giving myself too much credit. From the first time I met him, Considine had said he found me entertaining. He was probably preserving me just for chuckles.
I pointed my face towards April and Binx—keeping the rest of my body homed in on Considine. “Did you see him arrive?”
“No,” April said.
“I didn’t know he was there until he spoke,” Binx said. “I didn’t catch his scent.”
“I should hope not,” Considine said. “It’d be a dark day before I get caught out by a mere wizard and a shifter so young she’s practically a kitten.”
“No offense taken,” Binx said.
“That’s a shame,” Considine said. “I very much meant to be offensive. Are the lot of you task force people all so no nonsense and unflappable or is it just the ones that work with Slayer?”
“Just the ones that work with Blood. Since she’s always stuck being a team lead, Sarge gives her the best team he can manage,” April said.
“Don’t tell him stuff like that,” I said. “Also, we still don’t have team leads.”
This was the first time I was hearing this—that Sarge was cherry picking who I worked with.
I’d thought I never worked with Clarence because he was afraid of me, and my stealthier fighting style wasn’t a great match with Medium-Sized Robert. Now that I thought of it, I rarely worked with Juggernaut, too, and he was a wild card in our team.
I actually worked most often with Grove. While an outsider might think Grove was useless, he was our team’s only medic. Despite his obsession with poisons, he brewed potent healing potions.
“Team leads are totally a thing, that’s why your team is always named after you,” April said.
“Makes sense,” Considine said. “So, you’re finished with the wizards, right? Entertain me.”
Yep. Entertainment is absolutely why he decided he was my self-appointed backup. Not that I’m complaining—that was handy. Perhaps it’s even a sign that he won’t randomly attack me?