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“It’s not pity,” I said. “You drew first blood. Around here, that earns you a meal, a drink, and a seat at our table as a guest of honor.”
Liss considered for a moment. I could feel the tension begin to ease out of her. Eventually, she withdrew from me and picked up a piece of fried chicken.
“You’re not just saying that to make me behave, are you?”
Spike snorted.
“Big G doesn’t say shit to spare your feelings. He shoots straight or he keeps his mouth shut.”
“The arctic shower was supposed to make you behave,” I said, ignoring Spike’s input. “Since I came away from that experience with a bloodied face, looking like I’d been through a war zone, I’ve learned my lesson. You don’t behave unless you want to. Now, eat. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
As Liss dug into her food, she made no pretense of trying to hide her hunger. She hunched over her plate, choking down one massive bite of chicken after another. I made a mental note to send her off with more food when she hit the road again.
“Crash is our Prospect,” I said. “He’s the one who brought you dinner.”
Liss narrowed her eyes with a look of mild animosity.
“He’s also the little fucker who caught me when I made a run for it. I remember him.”
Crash took a step back until he bumped against the cabinets behind the bar.
“I was just following orders.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t kick you in the balls like I wanted to,” Liss replied.
He gave a nervous little laugh.
“Oh, you came close enough. They’re going to be shriveled in terror for a few more hours.”
“I could cut ‘em off if that would make you feel better,” Liss offered.
Crash went stark white. One hand strayed over his crotch, protectively.
“No—no, I think—uh—I’m good. That’s—that’s not necessary. Don’t do that.”
Spike snickered. Baby Doll smirked.
“I like this girl already,” she said.
I fought to hold back my laughter.
“Don’t scare the poor kid,” I said. “He’ll wet his pants.”
Liss bared her teeth in a smile.
“But I like to watch him flinch.”
Crash made a noise of distress and skirted to the other side of the room. Liss looked pleased with herself and sucked the last bit of meat off the bones of her chicken, licking the grease from her fingers.
“He’s going to be terrified of you now,” I said.
“Good.”
“He’s about your age—twenty-five. You two could be friends.”
And hopefully nothing more than that, a tiny voice muttered in the back of my mind.
“That would be a bad idea,” Crash said from across the room, his voice cracking.
