Ava laughed again. “Now, now, that would spoil the surprise.”
“I don’t really like surprises,” I said.
“But Chang-Bibi does, and you are visiting her house and asking for her help.”
“Maybe I’m offering to help her.”
“Are you?”
“I could have come with a warrant, but I’m not,” I said.
“You could not get a warrant on the evidence of smelling weretiger, Anita,” and there was nothing friendly in the voice now.
“You have a mole in the department, or is your spy more federal?” I said.
“We have our sources.”
“Fine, I couldn’t get a warrant, but I still need to talk to the weretigers.”
“Our clan did not do this.”
“Of course not.”
“You do not believe we are innocent.”
“I believe everyone is guilty of something; it saves time.”
She laughed again. “I will go and help prepare. I assume you are coming alone, since this is a social visit of one master’s mate to another.” There was the slightest edge of humor, as if she knew she was making fun of me.
“Actually I have some other U.S. Marshals with me.”
“Now, Anita, that’s not very friendly.”
“I’m allowed attendants when I visit another Master of the City; in fact, denying my attendants entrance would be a grave insult.”
“Oh, good,” Ava said, “you do know how to play the game. Some of the younger, human wives don’t understand the old rules.”
I didn’t correct her on the “wives” comment. If they treated me like a wife, I’d have more status, and it wasn’t like I could ever “divorce” Jean-Claude. Vampire marks between servant and master were a hell of a lot more binding than any legal document. “Jean-Claude made sure I’d be able to do proper honor if I visit Chang-Bibiana.”
“How many of your attendants have guns and badges?”
“By the rules of hospitality, I’m allowed security.”
“But only two, on a surprise visit. Beyond that you must have another purpose for them. Are there more than two bodyguards with you?” Again, I heard that hint of laughter in her voice. But I’d been laughed at by better and scarier than Ava.
“Jean-Claude is Belle Morte’s line, so I’m allowed food.”
“Chang-Bibi is eager to supply all your needs.” Was it my imagination, or did she sound a little angry about that? Hmm.
“I appreciate the hospitality, and I will avail myself of the Chang’s generosity before I leave your fair city, but since I didn’t expect to have time in the middle of a murder investigation to visit you today, I brought my own snack.”
“So, you have two guards and one pomme de sang?”
“Not a pomme de sang, just a lover.”
“They say your pomme de sang is another vampire, is that true?”
She was referring to London, who was a vampire, and one of Belle Morte’s sex-oriented line, but his gift was to be the ultimate snacky-bit for someone with the ardeur like me or Jean-Claude. The only upside to it was that London gained power from the feeding and wasn’t exhausted by it. I just wish I liked him better. Good lover, bad boyfriend, if you know what I mean. “I haven’t given the title to anyone officially yet,” I said.
“We heard that you had, but now he seems to be your leopard to call. Nathaniel, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t stop my pulse from racing. I knew all the masters spied on everyone—hell, I knew Jean-Claude had his own network—but it was still unnerving to hear it.
“Yeah.” I hoped I wasn’t giving away any state secrets. I mean it was pretty well known, wasn’t it? Oh, hell.
“You have how many animals to call now, Anita?”
I really didn’t like the way this conversation was going. I wasn’t sure how much was general knowledge, how much their spies had discovered, or how much would be really bad to share with them. I had to get off the phone. “I’ll play twenty questions with Chang-Bibiana, but not with her assistant.” Yeah, it was rude, but it did the trick.
“Then, by all means, come ahead, Anita. Come talk to our queen. I’m sure her questions will be much more interesting than mine.” She hung up. Yeah, she was mad.
I couldn’t apologize. I guess we just both had to live with it. I hoped I wouldn’t regret pissing her off later. I got off the phone to find we were on the edge of not being in Kansas anymore.
The first hint was wedding chapels scattered alongside the more ordinary stores. Most of the chapels looked tired, and more depressing than romantic, but maybe that was just me. I’m not big on weddings.
Then there was Bonanza, the largest gift store in the world. One building that took up most of one block. It’s the kind of place you stop on family vacations. There was a huge empty lot, with a sign leaning by it that read ontier. I realized they’d demolished the Frontier. That big cowboy that you see in all the movies was no more. The Vegas Hilton sat across the road from another empty lot that was under construction.
Edward said, “Vegas doesn’t save its history; it demolishes and builds on top of it.”
“How many times have you been here?” I asked.
“Only once as a marshal,” he said.
“On other business?” I asked.
“None of your business.”
I knew that was all I would get on the subject, so I let it go.
Circus Circus loomed up on the right-hand side; it looked sort of tired in the bright sunlight, like a carnival that’s been in one place too long. The Riviera was across the street, then more open space where something else had been torn down. Signs for the Encore were next, but it wasn’t there yet. Then something called the Wynn that looked too tall and too modern for the rest of Vegas, though it had a huge billboard where an animated pixie was pushing words on a huge moving screen. It was a commercial for the Wynn. Suddenly there were moving, brilliant billboards every few feet, or so it felt. In daylight they were eye-catching; I wondered what they looked like at night. An odd collection of shapes across the street turned out to be the Fashion Show Mall. The building was ugly; it made me fear for the choice of stores. Then there were casinoes in fast profusion: on the left side the Palazzo, the elegance of the Venetian, right across the street from Treasure Island with its huge pirate ship out front; Casino Royale, Harrah’s, and then across from that was the Mirage and Caesars Palace. Caesars was huge and took up a big chunk of real estate. The Bellagio looked elegant, too, as we drove past, then across the street was Paris, complete with a smaller version of the Eiffel Tower and a huge fake hot-air balloon, but it was still dwarfed by the tower, even though I knew it was smaller than the real thing. There was huge construction and a sign that read CityCenter, then the Monte Carlo, which seemed tired, then New York New York, with a miniature version of the Manhattan skyline rising above little shops and restaurants. There was nothing tired about New York New York. The MGM Grand was across the street, and it looked upbeat, as well. The Tropicana sat beside it, then the Excalibur. Edward got stopped at the stoplight, so I had time to read that the Excalibur boasted three shows: Tournament of Champions, with knights and jousting; the comic Louie Anderson; and Thunder from Down Under, which was male strippers. Apparently, you could take the kids to see the jousting, Dad could see the comic, and Mom could go have beefcake. It was very well-rounded entertainment-wise compared to the mostly girlie-oriented shows that most places were boasting. Though there had been more comics, and Cirque du Soleil seemed to have more different shows at different places than anybody. The Luxor, the big pyramid with a Sphinx out front, was next. Across the street from faux Egypt was faux India. It was the New Taj, which was Max’s casino, hotel, and resort. The building was obviously based on the Taj Mahal, but there were white stone sculptures of animals scattered throughout the lush jungle-like landscaping. There were monkeys and an elephant and birds I couldn’t recognize in white, but there were a lot of tigers peeking out and strolling among the
rest. The statues were actually almost unnervingly lifelike. Well, I guess they’d had real-life models to work from.
The moving billboard out in front of the Taj boasted a magic act with more of the real-life version of the animals, and two revues. One was beefy-looking men, and I recognized one of the faces, though I was thankful that most of him was hidden behind the other men. The other show was all girls. Max was trying to maximize his resort’s appeal as well.
Edward didn’t pull into the circular driveway but went past it to a smaller, less landscaped road. I saw signs that promised a parking garage. I guess we weren’t going to valet.
“The first time you see it, you either think it’s gaudy and awful, or you love it. There’s almost no halfway about this town,” Edward said.
I realized he’d kept quiet so I could enjoy the view. “It’s like Disneyland on crack, for grown-ups,” I said.
“You’re not going to hate it,” he said.
“They don’t call it Sin City for nothing,” Bernardo said.
I turned and looked at him as Edward slid into the shade of the parking garage. “Have you been here before, too?”
“Yeah, but not on business.”
I was debating on asking him what he had come for, and if I’d like the answer, but Edward said, “You sound like you’ve acted as Jean-Claude’s representative before.”
“This is the first time doing it without more help from home.” The ceilings always seem low to me in parking structures when I’m in an SUV.
“Who will play your lover?” Olaf asked it. I should have known he would.
“You didn’t behave yourself well enough at the coroner’s. I don’t trust you to be able to play the part in the way I need.”
“Tell me what you need,” he said.
I glanced at Edward, but his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, and he didn’t look my way. I wanted to call him a coward, but that wasn’t it. I think, for once, he was as confused about how to handle the situation with Olaf as I was. Not good when Edward is out of his depth with his serial killer playmates.
“Hold that thought,” I said, and I dialed the only other number in Vegas that I had programmed into my phone. It was the man whose face I’d recognized on the billboard.
26
CRISPIN ANSWERED THE phone on the second ring; his voice still held that edge of sleep, but it was a happy edge. He worked nights, so his sleep pattern was close to mine. “Anita,” and that one word was way happier than it should have been.
“How did you know it was me?”
“I programmed a song for you, so I know it’s you.” I heard the sheets roll as he turned.
Was I the only person who didn’t know how to program my own damn phone? “I’m about to park in the garage at the New Taj.”
I heard the heavy slither of sheets across skin. Was he sitting up? “Right now?”
“Yes, I should have called you sooner, I’m sorry. I got distracted by the pretty lights.”
“Crap, Anita,” Crispin said, and I heard other noises on his end of the phone.
“You sound worried,” I said. “Why?”
“Chang-Bibi is my queen, but I’m your tiger to call.”
“Do I apologize for that again?”
There were more noises, and I realized he was getting dressed. “No, I’d just rather you let me move in with you, or at least move to St. Louis, but we’ll have that talk some other time.”
“You sound freaked, Crispin. What is wrong?”
Edward pulled into a spot, and Hooper’s SUV drove past ours, looking for his own parking spot.
“Let’s just say that there are guests here that Chang-Bibi wants you to meet, and you’ll want me within touching distance.”
“Don’t make me ask why again, Crispin.”
“Other tigers from other clans, Anita. They want to know if you can bring their powers online, too.”
“I’m not coming to feed the ardeur, Crispin, just to talk about the murders.”
“If Max were awake, that’s what you’d talk about. He’s business, but Chang-Bibi may think first about the tigers, second about business.”
“Are you actually saying that she wants me to . . . do some of the tigers before she’ll talk business?”
The phone fell, hit something, and made me take it away from my ear. He came back on, “Dropped the phone, Anita, sorry. I’ll meet you downstairs in the casino before you meet anyone else.”
“If you do that, won’t Bibiana question your loyalties?”
“Maybe, but I don’t want you meeting the new tigers without me.”
“Jealous?” I asked, and probably shouldn’t have.
“Yes,” he said, and that was Crispin. He didn’t play, really. If he felt something, he told you. It made him very uncomfortable to deal with sometimes.
“Do I apologize for that, too?” I asked, and my voice was less than friendly.
“If you didn’t want the truth, you shouldn’t have asked,” and now he didn’t sound happy. When we first met, I’d thought Crispin was uncomplicated, and just about sex and food. I’d learned different. It was like I couldn’t be attracted to a man who wasn’t difficult in some way.
“You’re right; if I didn’t want the truth, I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”
He was quiet for a few breaths, then said, “Apology accepted.”
“Get off the phone, Anita. We need to talk before we get there,” Edward said. He’d turned the engine off, and we sat in silence as the air-conditioning died away.
“Crispin, I’ve got to go,” I said into the phone.
“I’ll see you downstairs in the casino.”
“Will this get you in trouble with your clan?” I asked.
“I don’t care,” he said, and he hung up. He was twenty-one, barely, and most of the time he seemed younger. This was one of those times. I knew how harsh some of the wereanimal groups could be if you didn’t follow orders. Crispin might not care now, but the weretigers could make him care. They could make him care a lot.
“Crispin will meet us in the casino downstairs. He says Chang-Bibi may try to fix me up with some new tigers before she’ll talk about the murders.”
“Fix you up, you mean have sex with them?” Bernardo asked from the backseat.
“Feed the ardeur on them,” I said.
“You mean have sex with them,” Olaf said, as if to drive the point home.
“I can feed without intercourse,” I said, in a very grumpy voice.
“Good to know,” Edward said, and his voice didn’t sound much happier than mine.
“You told us that the weretigers might want you to feed on them, but not that you’d have to do it before they’d talk to us,” Bernardo said.
“I didn’t know,” I said.
“Do you mean that we might have to watch you have sex with some of the weretigers?” Olaf asked.
I fought not to squirm in my seat. “Not if I can help it. The tigers are very big on fidelity, marriage, all that. I’m hoping if one of you plays my lover that Bibiana will see it as cheating for me to do one of her tigers. Also, it’s a way to get all three of you inside with me. Two as security, and one as food.”
I heard a noise and Olaf was suddenly looming over the back of my seat. Height didn’t usually intimidate me, but as his arms slid around the sides of the seat, as if to pin me . . . “Back in your own seat, Olaf. No touching.”
“If I am to play lover, then I must touch.”
“And that is exactly why you aren’t doing it,” I said.
“I don’t understand.”
“I believe that, and that’s another reason that you are going to be security and not food.”
“I’ve frightened you again, haven’t I?” he asked.
“Nervous, you’ve made me nervous again.”
“What do you like to do on a date?”
I turned in my seat so I could see his face. “What?”
“What do you like to do on a date?” He repe
ated it, looking right at me, his face very neutral. At least he was controlling his face now, though the weirdness factor wasn’t lessening for me. No, weird was definitely on the rise.
“Just answer the question, Anita,” Edward said in a quiet voice.
“I don’t know. See movies, eat dinner, talk.”
“What do you do with . . . Edward?”
“We hunt bad guys and kill things.”
“Is that all?”
“We go out shooting, and he shows me bigger and scarier weapons.”
“And?” he asked.
I frowned. “I don’t know what you want me to say, . . . Otto.”
“What do you do on a date with Ted?”
“I don’t date Ted.” In my head I thought, It would be like dating my brother, but part of what we hoped would make Olaf leave me alone was the idea that Ted felt less brotherly toward me. So, what to say? “He’s with Donna, and they’ve got kids, and I don’t date people who are taken. It’s against the rules.”
“Honorable for a woman,” he said.
“What the hell does that mean?” I said. “I know plenty of men who don’t obey that rule, either. Bastards come in both sexes.”
He looked at me for a long time, then finally blinked and looked away. He nodded. “Bernardo has no such rules.”
“I guessed that,” I said.
“I am sitting right here,” Bernardo said.
Olaf said, “It bothers him that you don’t like him better.”
“Bernardo and I had this discussion, and we handled it.”
“What does that mean?” Olaf asked.
“It means that Anita let me know she thinks I’m cute, so my ego is secure.”
Olaf was frowning from one to the other of us. “I don’t understand.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Edward said, with a sigh. “Who plays what role?”
“Whoever I pick for a lover may have to do more than hold hands to convince Bibiana that it would be rude to offer up one of her tigers.”
[Anita Blake 17] - Skin Trade Page 20
