Tannusen raked his free hand through his hair, loosening the tie holding it up. Chimerically, his claws slit open his scalp, just a little. Enough to focus.

Right. Focus.

This was all stupid.

He finished up the bacon and moved the slices onto a plate, putting the rest back where it went. If Cassian wanted eggs, he'd have to tackle that himself.

Tannusen was a pooka; lies were easy. "I'm needed at my bar," he called out, picking up his gloves and jacket. "The bacon's done and the stove's off."

And then he was gone. He'd even reappear at Velvet Lust. What good was owning your own bar if you couldn't get drunk in it when it was closed for the day, anyway?