'Blake was sent the message: if he wanted his girlfriend back, he had to hand over the grease monkey. Batcatcher tracked him, just to make sure the poet was playing it straight.' She pointed to the still-circling flying foxes.
The grease monkey. That was Mira's pet name for Matheson. He was doing a fine job of making them all look like monkeys.
'You were too far back,' he said.
'Wasn't my call. They were afraid of scaring Matheson off.'
'He knew it was a trap but he came anyway. Cocky.'
'Or reckless.' She raised an eyebrow, to draw a comparison, he suspected; he ignored the suggestion. 'I wouldn't have thought Blake would be able to get the beamers on side,' she said.
'I'm not certain he did,' Reece said. 'Not his style.'
'That four-armed dude was the same one who did Johnny Slick at the roller derby.'
'Exactly. Why would Blake even care?'
'Freelancer? And what about the biker who killed Kratzmann?'
'More hired help, maybe. Hired by who, is the question.'
'Another city, muscling in while the boss is under-strength? Sydney?'
'Possible. Whatever it means, we need to get Mira back sooner rather than later.'
'You'll be lucky to keep your head at this rate.'
'I'm menopausal and being retired, Flick. What the hell've I got to lose?'
She touched his cheek, but didn't kiss him. People were watching.
TWENTY-FOUR
There was a saying, that those who didn't pay attention to history were doomed to repeat it, or something to that effect. That, and absolute power corrupts absolutely, were two of Kevin's father's favourites, usually in the context of politics. But sitting on the back of a motorcycle being driven by a killer, again; being driven to someone who promised to have all the answers, again; before going to battle against Mira, again; he wondered what lesson he was meant to have learned.
To pick his friends more carefully? To get the fuck out of Queensland?
Having lost his family, did he have to give up his home as well?
Kevin Matheson, the parochial vampire.
Last time he went head-to-head with Mira, she had escaped and he'd been forced to bring Kala across to save her life. He hoped to have learned enough to do better next time.
The rider weaved across the city's north side. Once, Kevin thought he might've been either shaking off a tail or had taken a wrong turn, because they seemed to loop around. He finally turned in to a shopping centre.
The complex covered a city block, surrounded by a mostly deserted car park and thirsty-looking hedges. The only activity was a cluster of cars around the entrance to a grocery store, and the biker steered well clear of that as they headed into the underground car park, where seemingly endless vacant bays stretched away in fluorescent-striped rows.
Had the rider forgotten to get milk on his way back?
They zigzagged toward an area where Staff Only signs and hazard warnings dotted the concrete pylons. The teenage boy Kevin had seen at the Needle's mobile studio sat at a roller door, smoking. Argent stood as the headlight found him, clearly showing him speaking into a walkie-talkie. The rider flipped up his visor. The kid looked him over, then at Kevin. He nodded and told the walkie-talkie to 'open her up'.
The door rattled up and in they went.
The lad's mate waited for them on the other side. She was kitted out in a bulletproof vest and stiff guards, like hockey greaves, on her ankles and wrists. The silver tattoo on her neck glowed in the harsh light, so liquid it looked alive.
'You weren't followed?' the girl asked.
'What do you think?' The rider's voice carried a soft American accent. He slipped off the helmet, allowing long hair to flow freely over the collar of his leather jacket. He took his sword, complete with scabbard and belt, from a specially made sling at the side of the bike. A machine-pistol hung there, too. He slung the sword over his shoulder, then removed his gloves and extended a hand to Kevin.
'We haven't been introduced. Yoshi Kohito.'
'Kevin.' Good, solid handshake on the fella. Eyes flashing green. No surprise there, the way he'd handled himself.
'Is the boss at home, Silver?' Yoshi asked the girl, and she told them to follow her. But first she took Kevin's sword and pistol. He handed them over reluctantly; she all but tapped her foot while she waited, hand out.
They passed several khaki-green crates carelessly covered by a canvas tarpaulin.
'Look familiar?' Yoshi asked.
Indeed they did. Taipan's gang had been flush with guns and ammo in much the same kind of military packaging. But Kevin kept his reply to a grunt, then asked, 'Isn't it dangerous, having them out like this?'
'Boss has got an arrangement,' Silver said.
'I'll explain when we get there,' Yoshi said.
Silver led them down wide, heavily scuffed cream-coloured corridors to a service lift and up one floor. Polished tiles reflected the minimal lighting. Shapes lurked behind glass storefronts: staring mannequins, glinting racks of toys, blinking lights. The ceiling was like something out of a science fiction movie, the inside of a space ship perhaps, all beige sheeting and recessed lighting, as though the crew were in deep freeze and about to be awoken to face the alien peril.
They moved on, almost silent on the tiles, to a section of lofty ceiling where skylights let in an ambient city glow that didn't quite make it the floor. Stalls in the centre aisle hunched secretively under sheets; here sushi, there a cobbler, and there, something twee in rounded lettering that could've meant anything. Kevin's attempt to read the jellybean script was abandoned when Yoshi said, 'Here we are'.
Light spilled from a doorway: a timber facade, tables and chairs stacked in the aisle. Coffee smell hung in the air. Kevin shivered, almost tripping as he fought back flashing experiences, of the coffee factory in the Valley, and further back in time to that infernal espresso machine his parents had at the servo, the one that had driven him to distraction, much to their never-ending amusement.
'Okay?' Yoshi asked.
Kevin nodded, clearing his mind of the vestiges of the life before.
Silver had walked ahead to announce their arrival.
At a table inside the cafe, the hooded figure of the Needle sipped a short black in a dainty grip. His long, curved nails made the act seem equal parts menacing and absurd.
Silver motioned them to sit, then went behind the counter to make herself a drink. There came the crunch of the portafilter, a whoosh and burble.
Kevin sat opposite the Needle. 'Late-night shopping?'
'Limited natural light. A general atmosphere of distraction. And, at certain times of the day and night, intensely crowded.' The Needle smiled, all fangs and twisted lips. 'A shopper's paradise. Would you like a sangue reale? I've just had a box delivered.' He pointed to a carton with a foil lid, a spill of tomato red around the seal.
'There's more on the table than a feed, though, right?' Kevin said.
Yoshi asked, 'How much has the Needle told you about my offer?'
'You're the friend who wants to meet Danica?'
Yoshi inclined his head. 'An emissary. You noticed the weapons in the basement, right? That's a sign of good faith. Same kind of gear I gave Taipan. Same deal, pal. Introduce my boss to Danica, we give you more. Enough to bring down a king.'
'So who's your boss?'
'It's not appropriate for me to say at this point in negotiations, but rest assured he's no pal of Maximilian.'
'Well, you can rest assured that Danica's made it pretty bloody clear she isn't interested in playing these games, okay? So I don't think I can help you — or your boss. All I want — all I need — is for someone to tell me how to get to Mira. I can do the rest.'
The Needle batted Kevin's argument away with a chop of his hand, as though backhanding a ping-pong ball.
'Removing Mira isn't enough. She's as good as removed already, due in no small part to the action you took out west. You should listen to Kohito-san. His
offer is a good one, with no risk for Danica.'
'Please, just Yoshi.' His American accent was more pronounced now they were talking business.
'There's no such thing as no risk,' Kevin said. 'I promised Danica I wouldn't tip her in the shit. Besides, I don't even know where she is. We didn't part on the best of terms.'
'She didn't support your desire, your thirst, for vengeance,' the Needle said.
'No. So I don't know why you think anything you have to say would be of interest to her. She wants out. She is out. End of story.'
'Then you have a problem,' the Needle said. 'You want something no one has any reason to help you attain, and without help, you really are up shit creek without so much as a paddle. What's more, your friend Melpomene is spilling her every corpuscle into one of Maximilian's goons as we speak, no doubt indicting the both of us as conspirators against his lordliness. Just how do you propose to make that up to me?'
'There are other cities.'
'I like this one.'
The teen behind the bar interrupted. 'Question?'
They all looked at her, sitting on the other side of the counter with one hand on her cup, the other raised in the air.
'Yes, Silver?' the Needle said, his tone that of a school teacher holding out for the final bell of the day.
'Why did they try to grab the bumpkin at Flash's?'
'VS, looking to take out the threat,' Yoshi suggested.
'But why use the Viscounts?' the Needle noted. 'They're just villeins from the south side. It's not as if VS don't have troops of their own; depleted, certainly, but more than enough to take care of one rogue vampire.'
'What if it wasn't VS?' Silver said.
'Good point,' Yoshi said. 'Who else could get something out of icing our young friend?'
'Slick's moll told me he'd been promised a big promotion,' Kevin said. 'Sky was the limit, she said.'
The Needle nodded, obviously warming to the theory. 'So the Viscounts were being used by someone in a position to make, and presumably keep, big promises. Someone who thought capturing or killing Kevin was worth the risk. But wanting to keep their role under the radar.'
'There is a price on his head,' Silver said, and the way she said it made Kevin wish he hadn't given up his weapons.
'Not that big a price.' The Needle studied Kevin, squinting, as though through a microscope.
'Danica,' Yoshi said. 'He's our only connection to Danica.'
'Because Mira's in bedlam,' the Needle nodded. 'They want to woo Dee back; to save her, or replace her.'
Kevin dredged up a memory. 'In the gorge, when we fought, Mira said something about Danica being able to cure her.'
'Max, then,' Yoshi suggested, 'but not wanting to risk any more of his troops, using his ersatz soldiers instead.'
'For something as important as saving his daughter, he'd send the Gespenstenstaffel at the very least,' the Needle said.
'But what if it was someone who doesn't want Mira cured? Someone who, say, let it slip to me that Jasmine Turner had moved out west, and was vulnerable there. A someone who hoped to lure Taipan to her, in the hope of damaging Maximilian's operation, and perhaps drawing Danica out into the light. They must be very happy indeed with how that all worked out.'
Yoshi leaned toward the Needle, his voice low. 'Don't suppose you know who set you up, hey, pal?'
'The source of that particular piece of information has since expired.'
'Interesting.'
'Isn't it?'
'Let me get this clear,' Kevin said. 'Maximilian probably wants me alive. Someone inside his operation probably wants me, and Danica, dead.'
'So it would appear.'
'Then no way am I bringing Danica into this. I owe her that much.'
'Under the circumstances, I concur,' the Needle said.
Yoshi seemed about to argue, but the Needle motioned him to silence before turning to Kevin. 'If you want to free Melpomene, I suggest you talk to Blake. He's her maker. His blood link will help you find her. How you get access to her is your business.'
'I want to talk to him anyway,' Kevin said. 'Thank him for tonight's not-that-much-of-a-surprise party.'
The Needle fingered his takeaway, as though the box held an answer if only he dared to open it. 'As you wish. I need to pursue the matter of a faction within Maximilian's operation. Perhaps the rot inside the tower will bring von Schiller down, if we but give it a helping hand.'
'What makes you think the new chief won't be as bad, if not worse, than the previous?' Yoshi asked.
'Oh, I have my own ideas about that. Silver, show Kevin out. And tell Greaser to keep her distance. And give up her badge. For the time being, she's officially no longer a Snipe.'
'Have you heard from her?' Kevin asked. 'Did she get away?'
The Needle lifted the lid on his meal, a faint ghost of steam and blood rising. 'She did. I think this needs to be reheated.'
'I'm going with him,' Yoshi said, standing with Kevin.
The Needle questioned him with a look.
'He's my only link to Danica. You might not need him, but I do. If you don't mind me riding shotgun, Kevin?'
'You saved my arse in the graveyard. You want to give me a chance to even the score, sure. But Danica's off-limits. Just so we're clear.'
'It's my experience that, when things go pear shaped, nothing much is clear. But for now, let's go reel in this Blake guy and see what he can tell us.'
TWENTY-FIVE
Reece paused outside Vee's apartment. He adjusted his tie and his shoulder holster. A pattern of scarlet dots and lines covered the door. He'd heard housekeeping hadn't been happy about that, but there was nothing they could do. Power came with privileges, and graffiti was one of them.
There was no buzzer. Reece knocked and waited. He was about to knock again when he heard the slither of cloth and the clunk of a lock.
Vee opened the door, stood with one knee poking through the split of their kimono, one hand holding the door. The sleeve pooled at the elbow, revealing a black and purple snake tattoo circling their forearm.
'Not a surprise, and yet, surprising.'
They stood back to let him enter. The living room was candlelit, the flickering flames haloed in the incense cloaking the room. Book shelves covered one wall; a huge cabinet of weird shit another: animal and human skulls, puppets and dolls, an array of jars, coloured beads. Where most people would've had a television, there was a terrarium of branches and platforms, home to a mass of creamy coils. The python raised its head, tasted the air, yawned as though Reece's arrival was of no consequence, and tucked itself back into slumber.
'This won't take long,' Reece said. Sweat beaded on his forehead. How the fuck did Vee breathe in here? He adjusted his tie again.
Vee stood at the terrarium, talking to the snake. 'You want to know if I tasted the poet's woman.'
'I thought she might've known something about the mechanic's whereabouts.'
'All this fuss about a grease monkey.'
'He wants to kill the Strigoi. Doesn't that worry you?'
'How can anyone with a blood link not be worried?'
Vee stared at Reece, unblinking, and he felt a flush of heat in his throat where Mira's mark had once indicated her ownership. The two scars had faded over the past month, but he still felt them.
Vee waved one hand, as though clearing smoke from the air between them. Maybe they were, their green eyes glowing in the dimness.
'The Hochmeister conducted the interrogation himself. It seems all those favoured by the Strigoi are, shall we say, less involved than we once might have been.' A smile flickered across their thin lips. 'You must be feeling it, the separation.' They held up a hand, fingers open, palm up. 'Your time is running out, Reece. Tell me, what does it feel like?'
'It's Mira's time I'm worried about. Can you bring her back?'
'Dr Tran and I are doing what we can, but you have to realise, she has quite the history. A lot of voices in there.' Vee tapped the side of their head.
'The cacophony is deafening.'
'So you're saying there's nothing to be done.'
'I'm saying there's nothing for you here, Hunter. But I can assure you, if anyone wants to kill the Strigoi, they will have to go through me first.'
'I can live with that.'
Vee smirked. 'Can you?' They opened the door. 'So nice of you to visit.'
Reece poised in the doorway. 'You cut any deals with the rockabillies lately, Vee?'
'Really. Do I look like a bobby-soxer to you?'
'I don't know what the fuck you look like, sport.'
Vee gave a condescending smile and pushed on the door. Behind them, the snake yawned again. 'Give my regards to the other one.' The door closed.
Reece stood in the hall, catching his breath, the sweat cooling. He should've known the freak wouldn't help him. Their rivalry, their antipathy, ran too deep.
Interesting, though, that Vee was as much on the outer as he was, with no knowledge of Matheson's whereabouts and no apparent reason to have tipped off Slick.
He snorted. The other one. Flick would love that.
TWENTY-SIX
Yoshi parked in the shadow of a multi-storey building surrounded by chain-mesh fencing. It had boards fixed across its windows and doors. With the bike parked out of sight in a rutted driveway, they huddled at the corner of the property from where they could see the front of Mel's apartment block. They'd agreed to wait until early morning before making their visit, mainly to ensure that the poet was the only one to get a rude shock, assuming Kevin's theory about Blake's location was correct.
Kevin gestured at Yoshi's sword. 'You ever get pulled over because of that thing?'
'The cops haven't caught me yet.' He grinned. 'I only carry it when I'm working. It has a certain intimidation factor. Plus you get stuck through the heart with this, you stay stuck, right? And when it comes to the coup de grâce...' He drew a finger across his neck. 'So what makes you think Blake will come to his girlfriend's?'
'He'll be too scared to stay home, now that his trap has failed. Too scared of me and VS, probably. Plus, if Mel's that important to him, he'll want to feel close to her.'
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