Minka folded her arms. “What is it then?” When I didn’t answer straight away, she laughed. “I knew it. You have no idea what its name is.”
“As it happens, I do know, but it’s a terrible name and she’s in need of a new one.”
Briar offered her hand to the middle head, palm flat. “It’s okay. We’re all friends here.”
“All might be overstating it slightly,” Minka mumbled.
“Mind the slobber or you might lose a hand,” I said.
Briar snatched her hand away. “Do you think each head should have a different name?”
“One name should do it,” I said. “The center head controls the other two.”
“Then three heads aren’t really better than one,” Minka commented.
“They are when your goal is to intimidate,” Briar said, now patting the top of a head. Not so intimidating after all.
“Go on,” I urged Minka. “There’s still one head available.”
She gave me a tight smile. “No thanks. I just washed my hands.” She regarded the dog. “I guess the name Cerberus is too on the nose for you.”
Briar snorted. “That would be like naming a newborn Baby.” She crouched down and moved her nose closer to the nose on the left. “Do you have an opinion?”
Minka elbowed me lightly. “Can’t you tell what she’s thinking?”
“Not exactly.” My skill didn’t work that way. I couldn’t have a telepathic conversation with the dog. The communication was more abstract and guided by feelings, except with the animals with whom I shared a strong bond, like Barnaby.
“What about Hella?” Briar asked.
Minka scrunched her nose. “This is a pointless exercise. She doesn’t need to name it. The monster will go straight back where she found it as soon as she releases it.”
“Therein lies the problem.” I told them about Fergal. “Trio needs to steer clear of a certain section of the city and find a new home.”
Briar lit up. “Trio’s a great name.”
I smiled. “Right? It just popped out.”
Minka groaned. “It can’t steer clear of Edgware Road by staying here.”
“I wasn’t suggesting here, specifically.”
Trio barked and wagged her tail. Okay, maybe she was suggesting here specifically.
Minka’s expression grew more pinched by the second. “Let me guess. There’s no space in your flat.”
“Of course there’s no space.” I gave the dog a playful smack on the back. “Sniff around and see who appeals to you.”
Minka quickly returned to the safety of her desk. She avoided animals the way most people avoided vampires. I was pretty sure half the reason I brought creatures to the Circus was to see her reaction. Life held so very few pleasures.
Trio pressed three noses to the floor and sniffed loudly.
“You’re not wearing your uniform again.” Minka didn’t bother to disguise her annoyed tone. “I don’t know how you manage to run around the city without catching a chill.”
I pivoted to face her. “That’s what you’re choosing to focus on?”
“Yes, I choose to focus on the rules. I know that must seem ridiculous to you…”
“I follow the rules,” I objected.
“That uniform is designed to keep you safe.” Minka gestured to Briar’s dark blue outfit.
“And yet here I am—safe as houses and no uniform,” I said.
I wasn’t against a uniform on principle. There was a lot to be said for protective gear, especially ours. The Knights of Boudica had taken great pains to acquire the fluid-like magical armor that protected us from the cold, absorbed shock, and was difficult to penetrate, and I appreciated their efforts. I disliked wearing the uniform because it identified me as a knight and I tried to avoid anything that identified me in a crowd or drew attention to me. I wanted to blend with the shadows, the way vampires once did. It was safer for me. Safer for everyone.
While we argued, Trio had wandered over to Stevie’s desk and was currently trying to pull the drawer handle with her fangs.
“I told Stevie it would attract animals if she kept snacks in her drawer,” Minka said.
The drawer popped open and three heads alternated dipping into the stash because they couldn’t all fit at the same time.
“Tell Stevie I’ll replace everything,” I said.
“You better,” Minka said. “She won’t be happy.”
“Shouldn’t have left her desk unmanned,” I said.
Minka went back to her paperwork. “She went with Ione and Neera to shop for supplies.”
“What kind of shopping requires three knights?”
“They wanted a tie-breaker in case of a disagreement,” Briar explained.
“Where’s Kami?” I asked. She was the best option for dealing with Trio.
“Speak of the devil and I shall appear in his stead.”
I spun around to see my friend limping toward us. Kamikaze Marwin was a tough, stocky blonde with a tongue that matched the sharpness of her blade. We met when we were both sixteen and orphaned. We lost contact for a few years when she left the city, but she made a point of finding me when she returned. We joined the Knights of Boudica together.
Minka rushed forward and yelled for Briar.
The shapeshifter vacated her chair. “I’m right here. I can see her.”
“I’m fine,” Kami insisted, nostrils flaring.
“You’re limping,” Minka said.
“Exactly. When I crawl in here on my belly because my legs are broken or missing, then you can call the resident healer.”
Briar gave a slight bow of acknowledgment and backed away.
“How are you injured?” I asked. “You were supposed to be recuperating from yesterday.”
“Sorry we can’t all be part-Amazon and impervious to injury,” she griped.
I popped a hand on my hip. “I’m neither of those things and you know it.” I was only five-nine, hardly Amazonian height, and I’d racked up enough injuries in my early days as a knight to earn the nickname Gash, which quickly fell out of favor when I threatened bodily harm.
Kami dragged herself to the nearest chair and sat. “It’s a funny story I’ll share when I’m in a better mood.”
“I guess this isn’t the ideal time to ask for a favor,” I said.