Spider didn’t usually go for blonds, but he’d be more than happy to make an exception for this drawling, smoldering cowboy. He was delicious, with his orders and demands and growls about the time passing and standing there with those large arms crossed.
All of this was, of course, just a gigantic distraction, and not at all the point. Spider sighed, then stuck his head out of the office.
“Mirrie?” he called.
“Yeah, boss?” she called back from behind the counter.
“Come in here for a minute, OK?”
“Sure thing.”
She crossed the café floor, her dark-blonde hair shining and bouncing, her amazing violet eyes warm as she returned the customers’ greetings. As Tex and Honey had quite accurately pointed out, her clothing was a triumph of enthusiastic color and fearless combinations over anything even remotely practical, conservative or – some might say – tasteful or fashionable. But Mirrie didn’t give a damn about any of those things, and she dressed like she lived: brightly and proudly and vibrantly.
She came into the office, then stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Tex and Honey. Right away, she spun to pin Spider with a look.
“Who’s dead?” she demanded.
“Uh.” Spider grappled to look calm. “Nobody.”
“Don’t lie,” Mirrie said with an enviable eye-roll. “ Also don’t treat me like a moron.”
Spider looked at Tex and Honey, his pleading desperation so huge that it was almost physical.
“Mirrie,” Tex said, his low voice rumbling out of his chest. “You know we can’t tell you anything, hon.”
“Don’t ‘ hon ’ me, Slick,” she shot back, making Honey grin. “And either you give me a clue what’s going on, or I’ll call King myself.”
“How’d you –” Spider caught himself. “Of course you know KIng’s involved.”
Mirrie rolled her eyes again, even harder, if that was at all possible. “Duh.”
“Mirrie,” Honey said, going for reasonable. “Mac will tell you everything soon.”
“Oh, will he?” Mirrie said, feigning delight. “So my big strong boyfriend knows what’s going on, does he?”
“Not yet.” Honey cocked her head at the other woman. “It’s a time-sensitive matter, Mirrie, and we need to haul ass out of here, and I mean yesterday . No time for histrionics or drama or hurt feelings. We need to get Spider out and away, and you need to cope with things here for him. Can you handle that?”
“With my eyes closed,” Mirrie said. “But I get no info before you all just waltz out the door?”
“None.” Tex was firm. “I know that’ll make you worry –”
“No.” Mirrie cut him off. “It’ll make me angry . I don’t like being told that nobody is dead, when it’s pretty obvious that someone is. Or, if nobody’s dead, then something close to the goddamn apocalypse has just gone down – ‘cause your types never show up like this unless the news is bad. Unless it’s the worst news, actually.”
“OK, look.” Honey sighed. “A bad guy is dead, alright? A big bad guy, and there’s going to be blow-back…”
“My brother?” Mirrie asked, her voice tiny. “Is Donovan dead?’
“Joker Kane’s real name is Donovan?” Tex said, a bit surprised. “Huh.”
“Yeah,” Mirrie said sharply, not at all shocked that this strapping, scowling guy knew exactly who she was related to. “And as you most certainly know, my brother is now head Enforcer of the Fallen Angels, under the command of President Ace Cuddy and Veep Nails Paxton.” She gave Spider another searching look, since she was well-aware of all that history between Ace and Spider. “So… is it Donovan?”
“Nah,” Tex said gently. “Joker’s OK. So’s your Dad.”
Mirrie nodded stiffly, taken aback – as always – at her relief. Yes, sure, she despised her father and brother, and everything that they stood for and believed in… and most of all for the fact that they’d participated in the group beating on her all those years ago.