“Dude, just give us the info.” I pulled out my wallet and peeled off a twenty. I hoped he’d be cheaper to bribe than Cindy at the last hotel—although they seemed to be sharing the same single brain cell.
His eyes flashed up to follow the bill as I moved it back and forth.
“Room number,” Jess repeated. She eased up on the punk’s hands but didn’t let go.
“Two-oh-eight. End of the corridor.” He watched the dyed paper dance in my hand. “Damned baby won’t stop crying. Bad for business.”
I dropped the money on the desktop at the same time Jess released him. The cell phone let out a pathetic beep as he pushed it to one side and grabbed the cash.
Bran threw down a fifty. “For the phone. And forgetting about all of this.”
The kid gave us a slow nod, studying the two bills. He looked down as we passed by the desk.
Jess led the way up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She didn’t say anything and didn’t seem to notice we were behind her. Her moves were fluid and quick as if she were twenty years younger.
I’d never seen her so focused, so intently in hunting mode. In her mind she wasn’t here in the city—she was in the forest and about to take down a predator almost as dangerous as she was.
She stopped in front of the hotel door. The cheap plastic stickered numbers had been scratched out two or three times with magic marker to the point of being barely visible.
Jess cocked her head to one side, looking at me. “Suggestions on how to do this? This is sort of your area.” The low whisper sounded like a gunshot in my ears.
“My area?” I pointed at myself. “I think my area ended when you got the scent off the smoke.”
She rocked on her heels, hands in pockets, and wearing a shit-eating grin. “Well if you’d take a bit more time to keep your skills honed you’d have been able to do the same thing.”
“Except I work for a living in the city,” I replied. “And I don’t need to be able to pluck a single scent out of a crowd. In fact it’d drive me crazy if I had to turn it on and off. It’s enough I almost go deaf in a group of teenagers, all screaming and yelping.”
Jess’s scar began to darken, the previous joviality vanishing quick. “It’s your heritage, it’s who you are. The least you could do is keep it in tune like a fine instrument.”
I felt my pulse increase. “You want to talk about keeping in tune...” I took a step back. “You got us this far—feel free to leave.” At the back of my mind the warning bells went off. I was tired and stressed out and wandering into dangerous territory.
“You think I’m going to walk away before you, you...” She waved at the door. “You do whatever you’re going to do? And what is that exactly?”
A baby’s cry came from inside the hotel room, interrupting our argument. It rose and fell in intensity, a continual wail of annoyance and fear.
“Stop it.” Bran stepped between us. “Shut up, both of you.”
I froze.
Jess gave Bran a curious look but didn’t say anything.
“Reb, pick the lock,” Bran snapped. He grabbed my arm and pulled me aside, away from Jess. “Do it.” He moved beside the door and rolled his shoulders back. “I’ll take care of things when we get inside.”
I knelt down and pulled the small case of instruments from a pocket. I never left home without them.
Jess stood by and watched, staying silent.
It wasn’t much of a challenge even with Liam’s crying jangling my nerve endings. The tumbler gave way easily under my assault, a deafening click signaling surrender to my keen Felis ears. I stood back up and nodded to the two adults.
“Now what?” I mouthed.
“Now this.” Bran grabbed the doorknob and threw the door open.
He charged in with an angry roar, leaving us behind.
Jess laughed as I gaped before we tumbled in after him.
“I can see why you like him,” Jess shouted. “Cut-the-Gordian-knot type of guy.”
I didn’t answer, focused on assessing the situation as quickly as possible.
The single bare light bulb set in the ceiling illuminated a stark, relatively barren single room. It was a shocking contrast to the clean, comfortable hotel room I’d visited Molly Callendar in a lifetime ago.
The dingy brown couch had more stains on it than a frat house carpet, the fat wide television set practically an antique. The single chair didn’t match the couch and had large rips and tears in the dark fabric as if Jazz had gone to town on it.
It also held a man wearing a dark T-shirt and jeans with a baby in his arms. His mouth hung open, long greasy strands of dark hair stuck to his sweaty face.
Liam scrunched up his little red face and screamed at the top of his tiny lungs.
The middle-aged man glanced at the coffee table. To be specific, he focused in on the pistol lying atop a magazine, the silencer extension on the barrel pointed at the far wall. His grip tightened on the bundle lying on his left arm as he estimated his odds of getting to the weapon before we closed the space between the front door and the table.
I leaped at the same time the killer did, letting out a hunter’s cry.
He lunged for the pistol, swinging the baby around like a sack of potatoes.
I won.
I swept up the pistol and pointed it at the man’s chest. The footlong square coffee table provided a slight barrier between us, stopping my advance.
He stood there and glared at me without any fear.
A tremor ran through my hand as I realized I was most likely holding the weapon that’d killed Molly Callendar. The safety was off on the automatic weapon and I had no doubt there was a round in the chamber, ready to go.
The stranger’s left eye twitched. His right hand shot out to grab Liam around the neck, pressing the thin blue baby blanket into the baby’s skin.
Liam’s cries vanished under the assault.
“One move and he dies,” he barked. “You let us both out of here or I’ll snap the bastard’s neck.” The sausage-like fingers almost covered Liam’s entire face. “I’ll kill him.”
“No you won’t,” Bran said. He lifted his hands and patted the air in a “calm down” move. “You didn’t kill him in the hotel room and you won’t do it now because someone paid you to take him and keep him alive. We want to know who and why.”
“You ain’t cops.” His lips turned up in a sneer.
“No we ain’t,” Bran growled in an almost Felis tone. He tilted his head at me. “Which means she can shoot you without anyone giving a shit.”
I shifted the weapon down toward his belly. “At this range I can gut shoot you without hitting the baby. Slow, agonizing death.” I kept my voice low and steady. “No-win situation here. Let the baby go and we’ll sit down and talk about this before someone gets hurt. Whatever you’re getting paid it’s not enough for this much trouble, is it?”
The baby struggled under the man’s iron grasp. I felt, rather than saw, Jess slide away from us.
The thug shook his head. “You ain’t getting anything from me.” Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. “I got nothing to say to you.”
“Who hired you?” Bran took a step ahead of me—not blocking my line of fire but enough to get the punk’s full attention. “Are you holding the kid for ransom? Who’s calling the shots?”
His gaze darted from the pistol in my grip to Bran’s face, back again to the pistol.
Liam squirmed under the iron grip, a halfhearted flailing against his assailant. The tiny arms thrashed from side to side as he struggled for air.
Moisture dripped from the kidnapper’s nose onto the baby-blue blanket.
We were running out of time.
“You’re going to kill the baby,” I snapped. “Kill him and your negotiating chip is gone.”
<
br /> The baby gave one last shudder, thrashing in his cocoon.
His tiny eyes fluttered one last time and closed.
Chapter Seven
My finger tightened on the trigger. I’d never killed a man before but I considered this to be a damned good reason.
The thug sneered and increased his grip on Liam.
Suddenly his eyes went wide as if a whole SWAT team had somehow materialized around him.
The thug gasped. He looked through me and his lips fluttered.
I spotted Jess behind the kidnapper, her bloody claws already retracting. She pressed her lips into a tight line.
I lowered the pistol. I wouldn’t need it now.
He wavered for a second before letting out a mixture hiccup/cough. Blood drops splattered the blue baby blanket. His fingers trembled against the thin fabric.
The kidnapper arched back, hands dropping away in shock.
He let go of the baby.
The unmoving bundle plummeted toward the floor.
Bran dived forward, right into my line of fire. He pushed the table to one side with a mighty shove and slid on his knees along the bare wooden floor.
His knees smashed into the killer’s shins as he reached for Liam.
The man didn’t move, too busy gurgling for air. He hadn’t stopped looking at me, through me, as if he’d forgotten about the baby.
The baby fell into Bran’s arms. Liam didn’t move, didn’t struggle against the rough treatment.
Nothing.
My heart skipped a beat.
Bran fell back onto the floor, letting out a curse. A second later he rolled upright and bent over the bundle. “I don’t think he’s breathing.” He wrestled the blanket open.
I caught the smell of feces and urine.
The tiny face was pale, too pale.
Bran blew into the tiny button nose, a sharp puff.
A second later Liam gave out a happy gurgle and drew a deep breath. His eyes opened and he looked at Bran, his forehead furrowed with curiosity.
We all exhaled at the same time.
I grabbed the thin T-shirt the punk wore. Blood oozed from one edge of his mouth as he stared at me, his eyes growing duller by the second. His hands fell onto the chair’s arms, fingers gripping the shredded fabric.
“Who paid you? Who paid to have Callendar killed?”
He exhaled once, bloody spittle staining his shirt.
“Our Fath—”
His eyes rolled back in his head as he went limp, drowned in his own blood.
“Fuck,” I murmured, placing the pistol on the table.
“Mind your language. There’s a child present.” Jess nudged the body in the chair before her. “Damned fool.”
I looked at her. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She swallowed hard. “Just more paperwork.”
Inside I flinched. Killing humans was one thing Felis tried explicitly to avoid at all costs due to our superior skills. If and when we did it was an abnormality and had to be reported to the Grand Council. I had no doubt they’d accept Jess’s reasoning but it’d placed another weight on the older woman’s shoulders, one she had to carry alone.
I licked my lips, trying to find the words. “Thank you.”
“Better me than you,” Jess murmured.
“Damned fool.” I studied the body. “If he’d listened to me—”
“He was killing the baby and didn’t even notice it. Guy was too wired to listen to anyone, much less the woman holding his gun.” She gave me a sad smile. “Sometimes you can’t talk your way out of situations, kit. Sometimes you got to man up and make the kill.”
“Thanks for the pep talk.” I pushed the thug to one side and began searching his pockets, praying he wasn’t a drug addict and I wasn’t about to give myself acupuncture lessons. “But we’ve lost the chance to find out who hired him.”
“I figure that’s obvious enough.” She jerked a thumb at Bran, who had moved onto the couch, cradling Liam. “His dad.”
Bran didn’t reply, his full attention on Liam.
“Doesn’t add up.” I pried a thin wallet from his back pocket, twisting away to avoid getting more blood on my hands. “Why negotiate a settlement if you’re going to kill the mother? And why keep the baby alive?”
“Black market?’ Jess offered. “Maybe sell the wee one for a few dollars.” She held up her hands. “We’re in a whole new world of stupid and I can’t begin to guess what’s going on here.”
Liam burbled and curled his tiny finger around Bran’s pinky. The baby let out what I assumed to be a happy shout before settling down in his half brother’s arms.
Bran didn’t say anything.
“Keith Shaw.” I held up the driver’s license. “Lives on the other side of town.” I pawed through the well-worn leather. “A handful of fifties and hundreds. Guess he was saving up for that rainy day.” A small business card fell out. “And his probation officer. This guy was doing time for something.”
“Good place to recruit someone,” Jess said. “Take a special sort to kill a mother and take a newborn.”
I went through the rest of the wallet. “Brand-new and squeaky clean. No photographs, nothing to connect him to anything.”
“So what was he doing here?” Jess mused. “You pop the mother and take the baby, bring him here for...” She twisted from side to side, waving her arms to encompass the tiny hotel room. “What?”
I looked down at Shaw’s body. “Not much now. My guess is he was waiting for instructions from his employer on where to take Liam next.”
“Or for his employer to show and pick up the baby,” Jess offered.
I shook my head. “If it were me I wouldn’t do that. One of two things was going to happen—either Shaw collects his cash and goes on his merry way or Shaw gets killed after he turns over the baby.” I stared at the dead man. “You wouldn’t want to kill him here for the same reason we’re fucked.”
“Disposal of the body,” Jess said, almost sounding apologetic.
I took a light sniff. “Even in a place like this they’re going to search out the stink at some point. And we can’t do a Weekend at Bernie’s and wheel him out through the lobby. So his boss wouldn’t kill him here.”
“Have him go elsewhere with the baby for an exchange.” Jess finished my scenario. “After that Shaw either gets taken out by Hanover or he goes on the run.” She pressed her lips together tight before continuing. “Or he has another killer do it. Domino theory to keep as far from the initial crime as possible.” She eyed Bran. “Spend a little extra cash to buy more blood.”
“Maybe it’s not my father,” Bran shot back. “Maybe my father pissed off the wrong guy and the bastard killed Molly and grabbed Liam for an extortion plot.”
“Maybe it is your father,” Jess replied.
I held up my hand, stopping the argument. “We’re not going to find out unless you’ve got a resurrection spell in your pocket, Jess.”
“I’m calling it as I see it,” she said.
“I hear you. I’m trying to keep an open mind.” I bent my head just enough to show my appreciation. “Thank you for the help. I don’t know if I’d have been able to shoot him.”
“You would have,” Jess responded, quicker than I’d have liked. “When it comes to children you do what you have to do.”
“So now what?” Bran stood up, cradling the baby in his arms.
“We do this.” I walked over and plucked the sleepy child from him. Bran gave a concerned hum when I moved away. A few steps put me in front of Jess.
“Here.” I handed Liam over, careful to support the head as I placed the tiny bundle in her arms.
She let out a gasp as she instinctively shifted to provide more support for the baby. It was on
e of the few times I’d seen her surprised and I enjoyed it.
“What?” Jess curled her body around the baby as any mother would—she’d raised two of her own and I had no doubt about her nurturing skills.
Mine, well... I tended to kill African violets.
“Take him someplace safe. Keep him there until we call,” I said.
Jess frowned. “To the farm?”
“There’s no place safer, no one we can trust right now.” I pointed at the body sitting in the chair. “We can’t leave him in this filth. If I call Attersley and tell him we found Liam he’s going to wonder how we tracked Shaw. That’s going to open a whole new can of trouble and put me behind bars and out of the game. And we sure as hell can’t take Liam home and care for him while working this out.”
I kept talking, the words tumbling out in a nervous rush.
“He needs to be someplace safe and I can’t worry about him. We don’t have time to hire a sitter and I wouldn’t trust anyone right now to keep him from harm.” I played my trump card. “Except you.”
She looked down at Liam. He responded by smacking his lips and making cute baby noises.
“Jess...” I tried not to grumble. “I need this favor.”
The knowing smirk made me want to slit my throat. The last thing I needed was to be in more debt to Jess—she’d have no problem calling it in.
“Pass me the diaper bag. There, behind the chair.” She wrinkled her nose. “Bastard didn’t even have the courtesy to change him after kidnapping him. Little one needs a bath and a whole new wardrobe.” She took the brightly colored bag from Bran and flipped it over one shoulder with practiced ease. “You two keep working on this. I’ll grab a cab outside.”
I frowned. “Where are you parked? Do you even own a baby seat?” I had visions of Liam riding in her lap on the drive to the farm and the police pulling her over. The last thing I needed was trying to explain to Attersley how we kidnapped Liam a second time with an AMBER Alert blaring strong.
She gave me a cautious smile. “You do what you do and I’ll do what I do best. Plenty of family here in town who can give us shelter—no need to drag him all the way up north.” Jess paused, just long enough to scare me. “Be careful, Rebecca. This isn’t your usual hunting ground. These are people who don’t care about anything except what they want and how to take it.”
Family Pride (Blood of the Pride) Page 13
