Hexed

shop, « Hal said, alluding to a search warrant gone fantastically wrong that ended up with a Tempe police detective and me getting shot. » Which means they’re going to roll up here with a full search warrant for your place, they’ll do it all by the book, and if they find a sword, they’re going to take you downtown for a long talk. «
    » What about bows and arrows and other martial arts stuff like sai and throwing knives and such? «
    » Why, do you have any of that floating around? «
    » The garage is full of it. «
    Hal cursed in Old Norse for a moment, then switched back to English. » Damn it, Atticus, you need to get yourself a bat cave or something for all of your shady shit. «
    » Why? I thought it was all legal. «
    » It is, but in situations like this, you don’t want them to smell smoke and figure there’s been a fire. Which turns out to be literally true in this case. « He sniffed and wrinkled his nose. » What started the fire, anyway? «
    » A visiting goddess. «
    » Are you being serious or pulling my hair? «
    » Completely serious. « I didn’t tell him the correct expression was » pulling my leg, « because he was doing so well otherwise. Hal was quite a bit younger than Leif and more willing to make an effort to use American vernacular correctly. He usually appreciated it when I corrected him, but I didn’t want to distract him now.
    » Anything I should be worried about? «
    » Nah, it’s all Irish politics. «
    Hal looked at me sharply and shook a finger in my face. » That’s bloody dangerous, getting involved in that. You be careful. «
    I gaped at Hal. » I can’t believe you just said that to me. «
    › Yeah, because, like, you’re always careful. Fetishistically so. ‹
    » What? « Hal protested, shrugging his shoulders and looking aggrieved.
    » I called to ask Gunnar for help with the Bacchants yesterday and he shut me down. No well-wishing, no pleas to be careful, nothing. So now we’re dealing with the aftermath of what happens when I try to go it alone, and you tell me to be careful about Irish politics? «
    › Can I have a treat for using » fetishistically « in a sentence? ‹
    » Well, I know precisely where Gunnar’s coming from. It’s not our job to keep the magical peace. «
    » Neither is it mine. «
    › It’s really hard to pronounce. If you’re not careful, you could wind up saying, » feta shit stick-ally, « and then you’d feel like a puppy who forgot to lift his leg, you know? ‹
    » Well, then, why did you get involved? « Hal asked.
    I thought about explaining that I needed a safe place to live and work so I could restore the land around Tony Cabin, but it seemed too arcane and he might not understand why I was so eager to tackle a project that would take years to finish. I shrugged instead and said, » Irish politics. «
    » There you go. Bloody dangerous. Our job is to keep you out of jail when you get in trouble, not help you get into trouble in the first place. Come on. « He rose from his chair and gestured inside. » I’ll help you get everything stowed. «
    › I think Hal should get a treat too, if he keeps you out of jail, ‹ Oberon said as we walked inside.
    You don’t offer werewolves treats if you want to keep all your appendages. They think it’s undignified and degrading to be offered a treat .
    › Well, the moon must have addled their brains when they were thinking that one through, because I don’t see a downside to treats. Honestly, Atticus, it’s like they have no regard for the Canine Code. ‹
    I beg your pardon?
    › The Code. Has anyone taken the time to explain to them that treats are, by definition, a savory snack of succulence, appropriate at any time and for any occasion, with the possible exception of funerals? ‹
    No. You just made all of that up .
    › Precisely! I’m such a creative hound that I deserve a treat. ‹
    Clearly . I stopped in the kitchen to grab a handful of treats for Oberon out of the slightly scorched pantry cabinet. After you finish these, I want you to stand sentinel on the front porch and let me know if anyone drives up, please .
    › Okay! Man, these are gravy. Werewolves don’t know what they’re missing. ‹
    I collected Moralltach from the garage, a couple of other practice swords, and a roll of oilskin (the real stuff, not the synthetic fabric they call oilskin these days, because I’m a natural fiber kind of guy). Since I didn’t have a bat cave, I’d have to hide