“Probably because I’m about to take my ball and go shove it up the ass of whoever started this.”

“Spoken like a true Andarion.”

“Known a lot of us?”

“Just one. Nasty-tempered bastard, but damn good in a fight.” He narrowed his gaze on Hauk. “Now that I think about it, he looks a lot like you.”

“Yeah, well, we all look alike.”

Bastien rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t know. He’s the only Andarion I’ve been this close to, besides you. Come to think of it, his name’s also Hauk. Only it’s his last name.”

Hauk narrowed his gaze on the ragged human. “Friend or foe?”

“Good friend, so if you plan to shit-talk him, you better be ready to draw again and shoot when you do so.”

Hauk grinned at the man. If he, a human, knew a full-blooded Andarion named Hauk who looked like him, there was only one male it could possibly be. “I never shit-talk Fain behind his back. Only to his face. Otherwise, my brother would kick my ass.”

Bastien went slack-jawed. His eyes registered recognition. “You Dancer?” he asked in total disbelief.

He inclined his head to him. “I’m Dancer.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. Small fucking universe. The way Fain talked about you, I thought you’d be the size and age of the kid you’re with. Had no idea you were so close to his age and build.” Bastien held his arm out to him. At a distance that let Hauk know he really was familiar with Andarions and their culture. “I owe Fain my life. You need a point or anchor, any time, I’m yours.”

He shook his arm. “How you know my brother?”

“He used to live in my neighborhood on Kirovar. We worked out at the same gym. I was the only one who’d spar with him. After awhile, we ended up as drinking buddies.”

While it was true his brother had lived on Kirovar, this story didn’t sound like Fain, who couldn’t stand to be around people. Other than the drinking. For all he knew, Bastien was lying his ass off. “So you must know his firstmate Durden.”

Grimacing, Bastien shook his head. “Never heard him mention a Durden. Didn’t know he had any friends, to be honest. Not that he ever talked much, but when he did, you’re the only one he ever really talked about.”

Now that did sound like Fain. And he was right. Fain didn’t branch out much. Omira had seen to that.

“So did I pass?” Bastien asked.

“Pass what?”

“Your test to see if I’m really a friend of Fain’s. Not that I blame you. Don’t trust strangers as rule, either. But I do know Fain. I even know you have burn scars on your back from a childhood accident he blames himself for. And that his ex-wife was named Omira Antaxes.”