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“Sure.” She kissed him behind one ear and stroked two fingers back over his head as she set him on the floor. Spinning around, he gave the side of her palm a couple of quick licks and then bit down—not quite drawing blood.

The moment his mouth was empty, he glared up at her.“I meant it when I said don’t do it again.”

“I know.”

He butted against her leg, hard enough to leave the imprint of his head as a purple-and-green bruise. Tail straight up in the air, a fuzzy orange exclamation mark, he stalked back around the fire.

“He’s gonna have to make with the apologizing. Kith loves her leather pants.”

“Cats don’t apologize,” Claire said, from Diana’s other side, her voice the voice of experience. “He’ll convince her the whole thing was her fault.”

“Yeah, but he…”

Diana cut the protest short.“It doesn’t matter.”

“If you say so.” Kris’ fingers were warm in the crook of her elbow. “Come on, himself wants to thank you.”

“What for?”

“Duh. Saving his ass and nearly killing yourself doing it.” Her grip tightened. “I’m with the cat on that bit. Don’t do it again!”

“Look, if another situation comes up…” The dark glare from the guard captain was very nearly more heated than Sam’s.Ohmygod, she cares! Nearly breathless, Diana maintained just enough self-control to shove her free hand into her pocket and cross her fingers.“Okay. Not doing it again.”

“Good. Because I’ll kick your ass if you do.”

Arthur tossed a bone onto the fire as they approached and rose fluidly up onto his feet, wiping greasy fingers on his jeans.

Immortal King. Teenage boy. Mixed messages, Diana sighed silently,that’s what’s wrong with the world. And while they weren’t strictly in the world, it was a universal kind of observation. Well, maybe not the Immortal King, teenage boy part but the rest of it.

A hush fell over the assembled mall elves. Arthur touched his right fist to his chest and inclined his head in a regal salute.“My heart rejoices to see you well again, Keeper. I thank you for your timely intervention. I very much regret you were injured for my sake.”

His words carried the weight of ritual. Diana felt her cheeks begin to heat and sternly told herself to get a grip. Keepers didn’t do liege lord stuff—totally independent contractors.She didn’t do liege lord stuff. The blood rising into her cheeks ignored her. Nothing to do but blame the color on the fire and make the best of things. “Hey, no big.” Her shrug was as nonchalant as the circumstances and the lingering effects of her headache allowed. “I knew the job was dangerous when I took it.”

“Then I thank you for your willingness to do the job.” His gesture included Claire in his gratitude. “We all thank you.”

On cue, the elves began to whoop, then one of them flipped on a boom box and the first track off The Melvin’sHostile Ambient Takeover ripped through the remaining silent spaces.

“Oh, yeah, that’s appealing. If they really wanted to thank us, they could find something that sounded like music,” Claire muttered.

Diana snorted.“Too old to appreciate the good stuff?”

“I’ll let you know when I hear some.”

“People who only listen to the CBC have no grounds for criticism.”

“I’m sure you’re both hungry,” Arthur interjected smoothly, his voice sliding through the ambient noise. One hand indicated the bucket of chicken. “I’d be honored if you’d join me.”

“We’d be pleased to eat with you,” Claire said while Diana swallowed an inconvenient mouthful of saliva cased by the rising scent of eleven different herbs and spices deep fried to an extra crispy goodness. “But as we mentioned before, we can only eat the food we brought with us.”

“I understand.” He sank down into his chair—a gold brocade wingback; the legs having very likely gone to fuel an earlier fire—and waved the two Keepers into the space on his right, empty but for two cushions, their packs, and a saucer.

“Sam couldn’t wait.” Claire kicked off her sandals, crossed her ankles, and descended gracefully. “I fed him while you were out.”

Diana dropped and sprawled, one hand digging in her pack for food before her butt hit the cushion.“I figured. I also figured a full stomach was the only thing keeping his fuzzy head out of the chicken.”

“It’s not actually chicken.” Both Keepers turned to stare at the cat. Backlit by the fire, his fur looked more red than orange. “I’m not even sure it’s some kind of bird.”

As one, the Keepers turned to stare at Arthur who shrugged and pulled out a wing that was just a little too large and folded one too many times.“Ittastes like chicken.”

“What doesn’t?” Diana muttered, biting into her tuna salad sandwich. Chewed. Swallowed. Scraped her tongue against her teeth. “Oops. My bad.”

Claire flicked a coral-colored fingernail through her chicken-flavored carrot sticks and sighed.“Try to be more careful.” She offered one to Sam who turned up his nose at it.

“I don’t care what it tastes like,” he sneered, “it’s still a carrot.”