“Please.” Now the pleading was much harder to ignore.

I hesitated. “What’s the deal?”

“What’s the deal?” He laughed. The sound was brittle.

“I’m standing at a pay phone on Fisherman’s Wharf because I spent last night sleeping on the beach. My wife is nuts, but it’s a diplomatic marriage, so I can’t leave her, and most of my friends from Roan Rathad are afraid to come near me because they’re so sure she’s going to kill them—and me—one day. I’m lonely. I spend all day, every day, watching my own back, and I’m lonely.” More quietly, he said, “I’m sorry about the kiss. It won’t happen again. But I need a friend, Toby. I need a friend so badly you wouldn’t believe it.”

He sounded desperate. More, he sounded sincere. Connor’s always been good at covering misery with apparent cheer, and I was starting to suspect that he’d been getting even better since he married Rayseline. Shoving my hair out of my eyes, I sighed. “All right, you win. We’ll do breakfast. Where do you want to meet?”

“Mel’s okay?” The change in his tone was immediate enough to make me feel bad for wanting to avoid him. Raysel wasn’t that big a deal. I mean, if I can hang around with the Luidaeg, I can handle Rayseline Torquill.

“Mel’s is fine.” Mel’s Diner in downtown San Francisco is a purveyor of classic Americana, from the ever popular fried egg sandwich to the fat-saturated roast beef platter. There are no surprises at Mel’s. I like it that way.

“Meet you in an hour?”

“Better make it two.” I stood, grabbing my robe off the floor. “I need a shower, and the sun isn’t up yet. I can’t go outside safely until it is.”