”Good. I hear she saved a little girl’s life.”
Kit managed a wan smile. “Yes. She’s a hero. She was damn near a dead hero.”
”If you’re going to let her scout, Kit, you’d better get used to the idea.”
Kit stared at the wall. “Yeah. I know. Doesn’t make it any easier.”
”Nope. Never does. Get some sleep, Kit. And put away the booze.”
Kit grimaced. “Sure, boss.” Then he glanced up. “Thanks.”
”Don’t mention it.” Bull smiled, squat and square and for the moment, human instead of demi-legend. Human enough to show how much he cared, anyway, which meant a great deal to Kit in that moment. Bull Morgan thumped Kit on the arm. “See you around, Kit. Tell Margo I asked about her.”
Kit nodded and let him out, then locked the door and put away the bourbon. But it was a long time before sleep came. He steeled himself to make the decision and finally settled on Rome as the best place for Margo’s next down-time testing ground. Stubborn, brash, untrained …
And once again, Kit would not be able to go with her.
The silver lining in all this darkness, Kit grumbled to himself as he sought a more comfortable position on the couch, was that Malcolm Moore wouldn’t have to worry about rent and meals for months to come. If he’d thought it practical, Kit would have asked Malcolm to consider scouting again, just to be sure Margo had an experienced partner.
Yeah, right. She’d take to that idea with all the enthusiasm of a wet cat.
He sighed and wondered how she’d receive the news that another down-time trip was scheduled? She’d probably see it as her just reward for playing hero. Kit was rapidly discovering that being a grandfather wasn’t half the fun it was cracked up to be. When, if ever, did he get to stop being the “mean one” in Margo’s life? Every time things seemed to be straightening out between them, something always seemed to happen to muck it up again.