Three days passed fucking slowly, not least because no one had told me what was up with the guy I'd killed in the alley.
Not that Doran or Esther reported to me — the opposite. But I'd have appreciated knowing what the fuck was going on.
I spent those days and nights going about my usual business, intimidating or beating the shit out of anyone Fenwick thought was a threat to the peace and decency of Sylvaris, and escorting a few very nervous human real estate agents and building inspectors as they went to check out one of the apartment buildings Fenwick had bought recently.
He was a realist, just like anyone who'd lived as long as he had, and he knew Sylvaris was going to have some shitty neighbourhoods and some shitty people living in them.
But he'd been putting time and a lot of money into moving the not-shitty people away from the predators, setting up subsidised housing for anyone with kids, anyone old, anyone who we could be fairly sure hadn't robbed or killed anyone.
