“Did you do it?”
“I feel awful, but yes.” I sighed a bit.
Thruor shook her head. “It’s underhanded, but really? If he doesn’t summon any more crocodile demons, he’s fine.”
She had a point. “What are the chances of that?” I leaned against the wall. “What about the bombs?”
Kanesha considered. “When he comes back, we get ready to pull the fire alarm. Just in case. And if people don’t evacuate…”
“Back to starting an actual fire,” I said grimly. “A small one. In the trash chute. Maintenance will do the rest for us.”
Kanesha glanced at me.
“Trash chute. Nobody’s going to get hurt.”
“After all the problems we’ve had with arson?”
“Better than people being blown up.” She was right, though. Criticizing the bad guys’ methods then doing it yourself was a little bit crass.
“Got a better idea?” I looked back at the building.
“Call Mike. On his off duty number. That’s not calling the cops.” She grinned a bit.
“Good idea. He could send somebody plain clothes who can deal with them. If they’re real. If they’re mundane.” For all I knew it was a curse, not physical bombs. But I couldn’t take the risk.
“And if they’re not mundane, Clara can deal with them,” Thruor pointed out.
I didn’t quite share her confidence, given how long Clara had been working magic. But she should at least be able to tell us.
Then we saw him come back, vanish into the building. He was carrying a large bag that appeared to be from a liquor dispensary.
“He’s graduated from beer to stronger.”
“Hopefully he tries to summon something while drunk and gets the wrong critter,” Kanesha said, with a giggle.
“Should have stolen his beer,” I grumbled.
“Why? Like you said. He has stronger. Besides, it was cheap beer.”
Thruor grinned. “Life’s too short for bad booze. Don’t bother.”
I did wonder what was in the bag, but Kanesha was right. His beer was cheap, so likely anything else he bought was cheap and nasty too.
Rather like him.