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friend of mine.”
    As the two-wheeled carriage pulled away into traffic, I turned to watch Hexe as he crossed the street. I managed to keep my eyes on him until Kidron rounded the corner. I dropped back in my seat and smiled to myself.
    Lady Syra was the most prominent Kymeran in the city, if not the whole country. Her clientele included names like Astor, Vanderbilt, and Carnegie, not to mention movie and rock stars, as well as numerous politicians. Yet here was her son, trying to establish himself on his own terms, without flaunting his family name and connections.
    No wonder I liked him.

Chapter 5
    “Here you go, ma’am,” Kidron said as he pulled up to the curb in front of the boardinghouse. While the carriage horses in Central Park might appreciate a nice apple or a lump of sugar, the same could not be said of their centaur counterparts. As I climbed out of the hansom, I fished a five-dollar bill out of my purse and handed it to my cabbie.
    “Thank you for the ride. Here’s something for your trouble.”
    “No trouble at all, ma’am.” The centaur smiled as he pocketed the money. “But your graciousness is most appreciated.” He reached up and plucked a business card from the band of his top hat. “If you ever need a ride anywhere in Golgotham, please give me a call. I’m licensed outside the neighborhood, so I can take you as far as Tribeca or the Battery, if necessary. The last thing a beautiful young lady wants to do is ride in a rickshaw pulled by a satyr.”
    I nodded my understanding, at the same time fighting the urge to pat him on the rump and say, “good horsey.” As he trotted away in search of a fare, I dropped Kidron’s card into my purse and retrieved my keys.
    As I stepped inside, I was startled to find Scratch sitting in the foyer, glowering at me. I realized this was the first time I had ever been alone with him. While Hexe was home, he kept Scratch out from underfoot, but whenever his master was away, the familiar had free run of the house.
    “Oh. It’s you,” he said, disgust dripping from every syllable. “Where’s Hexe?”
    “He, uh, had some errands to take care of,” I replied, careful not to look directly at the familiar. However, it was impossible to avoid smelling him, as Scratch reeked of equal parts brimstone and cat. The familiar unnerved me in a way that centaurs and leprechauns did not. I was not at all used to winged cats, hairless or not, and I certainly wasn’t accustomed to ones that talked.
    As I headed for the stairs, Scratch leaped in front of me and blocked my way by spreading his batlike wings. “What kind of errands?” he asked suspiciously.
    “Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?” I snapped, no longer bothering to hide my irritation.
    “I can’t be killed,” the familiar sneered as he moved out of my way. “Don’t you know that? Oh, that’s right—you’re a nump. Numps don’t know anything.”
    “What is a nump, anyway?”
    Scratch laughed, and it was as snide as you would expect a cat’s laugh to be. “A nump is an uncouth, smelly fool who knows nothing about everything. You know—a human .”
    Stepping past him, I continued up the stairs, muttering curses under my breath. I was determined not to let the familiar get under my skin. After all, I told myself, I had better things to do than hang around and be insulted by a flying, bald cat.
    Despite Hexe’s assurances as to Faro’s abilities, I fully expected to find my room as empty as I had left it earlier. However, as I unlocked the door, I could only open it halfway, as something was blocking it from the other side. Peering around the jamb, I saw stacked throughout the room all of my earthly possessions, the same ones that Vinnie and his gang had loaded onto the Triple-A Aardvark van earlier that day.
    “Faro, my man, I’m sorry I ever doubted you!” I shouted in delight as I squeezed past a jumble of boxes marked “kitchen.”
    Outside of a canopy bed, an easy chair, and