Like he conveniently left out the part where her horrible betrayal totally broke him.
“I need to take a walk,” I muttered and spun from the room. He didn’t look up as I went and that stung even more.
Chapter Fifteen
The Meeting at Last
I was hungry. Feeding would be a good idea. Not the VBA shit at home but a real, live victim. Maybe a fireman. Of course, I didn’t have the time or patience to go look for one, so I’d have to settle for a human visiting Alchemy Red. Someone willing, someone I didn’t have to seduce.
I shoved my feet back into my scuffed up boots, zipped up the sides. Stalked for the elevator.
“Zara,” Nic called, approaching me swiftly.
“Just going for a quick prowl,” I returned. “I’ll be back before sunrise.” Unless I got real lucky, but that probably wouldn’t happen. I’d screw other hot men and drink from them during the intervening years while Nate slept, but when he was awake, it was a whole other story. I was not okay with cheating in any capacity, probably because I hadn’t really had relationships or anyone I loved, and wouldn’t have the first clue how to deal with the remorse from it. Plus it just seemed stupid anyway—why have a boyfriend if I wanted to take other lovers? Although he wasn’t so much of a boyfriend at the moment as a member of the asylum I was apparently running.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean—”
I threw up a hand to stop her as I stepped in the elevator. “I get it. But I need to feed. If Ellie gets up, have him give Peter a call and see what they can help Nate with. I’ll be back in a bit.”
The door closed on her reply and the elevator rumbled downward. I leaned against the cool metal interior and expelled a sigh. No card or cash on me but if I ordered a drink, they could put it on my tab. And if I found a human meal, well, someone would vouch that I’d pay. Or I’d take. I was In A Mood and had no qualms about that.
The elevator thumped on the first floor and I stomped my way out, through a narrow hall to a door that led out the side of the building. I hadn’t grabbed car keys anyway—there were some tucked in a cubbyhole in the garage for an emergency but I didn’t feel like digging them out. Alchemy Red was only a few blocks away and a walk to clear my head would do me good.
Or a run. Or hacking and slashing through humans in the streets. There weren’t many of them, though—not at this hour, which had to have been nearly four. Maybe I wouldn’t be home after dark. I briefly considered heading back, but then I’d be frustrated and hungry—
Pain lanced my back, a fresh burst of fire, and I dropped hard onto my knees. My body seized, muscles going taut all at once.
What the...? Fucking Taser. Had to be. I jerked and swayed, hit the cement face first, couldn’t get my hands under me.
I slumped further when the charge didn’t end, eyes blinking heavily, watering, pavement below me blurring...
****
I came to in the back of an SUV, metal grating between me and the front where the driver was. None of the doors had handles, windows had chicken wire set in them. I wasn’t bound, but it didn’t fucking matter as I had nowhere to go.
And my phone was back at home. Shit.
Maybe I was getting blood on their upholstery.
I hadn’t been out long and recognized the receding streets of the harbour district behind me. I glanced at the driver and only other occupant of the vehicle. “Um, so, where’re we going?”
No answer.
I slumped in my seat. Yawned. “Will we be there before daylight?”
Still no answer. Well, I could duck and avoid sunlight. Possibly.
It was all Nate’s fault. Stupid Nate and his stupid wedding ring from his stupid dead wife. When he got sane again, we were going to have a long conversation about not doing things that piss me off and send me out of the apartment where I wasn’t paying attention and could get myself kidnapped. Again. Hey, maybe he’d remember to look for me every day, though he’d likely try to strangle me if he ever found me.
The SUV wove around the outskirts of town and at last pulled onto a long driveway I didn’t recognize. It was a big city and there were plenty of corners that I didn’t know—and this was one of them. Thick green hedges were nearly black in the darkness, only the odd garden lantern along the path casting a glow into the night. The SUV continued up the long drive and I twisted to see where we were headed—big brick building, again one I didn’t recognize. Isolated, at least, with a stone fence and lion statues on the corners. Hmm. School? I didn’t recall a prep school in town, but maybe it was a Catholic one or something.
That would just be my luck. Kidnapped and sent to church. Ugh.
Gravel crunched and dinged the sides of the vehicle as it swung around in front of wide concrete steps. The driver idled and climbed out.
It was Sweater-Guy. Walking fine even though I’d popped a bullet in his knee earlier. Fancy that. So I was abducted by the bastards who fucked up my car. Oh, my car. I loved my Challenger. I’d still been trying to convince someone to play Ship’s Mast, but no one would go along with me and drive. Well, Peri might, but I hadn’t abandoned the idea of her purposely trying to get me in an accident and killed. And now it would have to go to the shop again.
I glared at the building. Maybe there would be some impromptu explosives I could put together and level the place on principle.
Figures in dark clothing jogged down the concrete steps and came to open the door for me. I hung back for a moment, but there seemed little point—they’d knock me out and drag me if need be. I slid along the seat and climbed out. Kept my big fat mouth shut as I stepped onto the gravel because I was sore and tired and honestly couldn’t think of something witty to say.
The apocalypse is clearly nigh.
Three of them around me and more figures moving in my peripheral vision. Weapons ready—everyone had a gun now but me, which are my least favourite odds. When they gestured for me to walk up the stairs, I did without a word.
All Nate’s fault. Yep, he was not only getting chained to the wall, but a lecture.
The doors were tall and narrow, one propped open and a dark hall awaiting me beyond. The floors were granite tile, walls wood panelled. Yeah, I was going with an old school. My unwanted companions urged me up a wide set of stairs to the level above, down a hall, turned right and down another. This hall tapered off to a single door at the end and I pictured a stern headmaster awaiting me with a yardstick.
Seriously, you want to seem threatening to a creature of the night, you gotta put some thought in the lair. First impressions and all that.
The door opened to what might’ve once been an office, with a vaulted ceiling and shades over the windows. A table sat in the center, two chairs opposite one another. Two lamps burned in the room, one on either side of me against the walls, leaving the rest of the space dark with layers of shadows.
And I smelled blood.
I sat in one of the straight back chairs without being asked to, crossing one long leg over the other, and waited. From the depths of the darkness at the end of the room walked a woman. Her hair was silver and coarse, creeping from the bun spun against the back of her head; face was stern and lined deeply. She wore a navy business suit and carried a gun.
Headmistress from hell. Wonderful.
“Miss Lain.” She sat opposite me and rested the gun—with her hand still locked on it—on the table in front of her.
“The one and only.” Unfortunately. Clone-Zara would probably have had my back, if she existed. “To whom do I owe this non-pleasure?”
“My name is Yoana Vasquez.” She cocked her head to the side, dark eyes studying me.
It meant nothing so I shrugged. “Never heard of you.”
“That’s funny. I was under the impression you had a meeting about me just a few days ago.”
Apparently the bitch didn’t realize I was a busy person—oh. Wait. “You’re the one Craig’s boss was trying to hire me to kill?”
A tight, polite smile was my
only response.
“Ah. Gotcha. Yeah, we didn’t get as far as a contract or anything. How’s he doing?”
She nodded to someone over my shoulder and a moment later Sweater-Guy stepped forward and thumped Craig’s poor square head on the table.
Wow. Now I felt bad about my threats to decapitate him—jokes aren’t really funny when they turn out to be prophetic.
He didn’t slosh much blood on the polished wood table, so they’d done it a while ago and he’d basically drained out. Such a waste.
“Well,” I glanced back at her and yawned, “it’s not on a pike but I’m sure it’ll make an impression. In a pinch, a platter works, too. Much more dramatic.”
Her smile didn’t waver but her eyes tightened. Ah, someone who didn’t like my snark. Good—I was in the mood to be an irritating bitch.
“And you have me here why?” I continued. “Tips for removing blood? Hiring Better Underlings 101?”
“What went on during the conversation you had with Mr. Leon?”
I was guessing she meant Craig. “He tried to get me to take the job without giving me details. And lowballed me. Boss’s orders or something. So I bailed. And I’m kind of busy, so—”
“I’m curious, Miss Lain, as to how much my brother was offering for my death.”
“Look, chickie,” I leaned forward on the table and the handful of people around us all shifted, prepping to defend, until Vasquez gave them a look to hold still, “you know my name, which must mean you know I’m very, very fucking busy. And I’m sure it’s incredibly difficult to get through your thick, old lady head, but there is more important shit going on in my life than your brother trying to kill you. Shit I need to get back to. So let’s speed this meet and greet up, and get to the point.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m offering to procure your services to dispose of my brother; you ought to be a little nicer.”
“Well, I’m on vacation.”
“Hypothetically, what is your going rate?”
Jesus Christ on a pogo stick. “One hundred billion dollars. Can I leave?” When I didn’t get an answer—and didn’t sense I could kill everyone yet—I sighed and slumped forward an inch, elbows on the table. “Going rate for supernaturals starts at a million.”
“He offered you less than that for me?”
“Yep.”
“And did he tell you what I was?”
No. And perhaps she thought I didn’t know, since I wasn’t freaked out by her—bitch had that queen smile, the condescending one. “Necromancer.”
Her lips twitched. Bingo.
I gestured to the lackeys around me. “These guys? No heartbeats. And I shot the guy who grabbed me but he’s still trucking. You got ’em fresh, sure, but they’re still reanimated corpses.” And the vampire wins—now gimme a cookie. Honestly, only a fucking witch could be that pompous looking.
Not that it wasn’t a bit of a surprise. Since most of the North American covens were decimated six years ago, mostly there were rogues and disowned, non-powerful distant relatives roving around. A handful remained who managed to get in hiding before Sean O’Connor’s teams ran them down, but they were still rebuilding. Vasquez’s organization, though, couldn’t’ve been structured like a regular coven or I would’ve known about it.
“And your business you’re eager to return to is more important than what I’m offering you? Would it have something to do with Mr. O’Connor?”
Motherfucker. I was sure my colouring paled because she smiled sweetly.
“A little birdie told me he wasn’t quite as dead as previously thought. Which means you accepted large sums of money from multiple people as bounty when you didn’t, in fact, kill your target—or not in a way that would ensure he remained dead. And I suspect denying this one job might mean you forfeit many others when the truth comes out.”
Shit. Shit shit shit shit. I’d been so fucking careful.
“The fact is, Miss Lain,” she tapped her fingers on the butt of her gun still sitting on the table, “you are not leaving this room until you agree to my terms or you are dead. Is this at all unclear?”
“Actually, it’s crystal, Ms. Vasquez. But the thing is”—I launched myself forward, slipped the gun out of her suddenly clasping fingers, and fired two .22 rounds into her forehead in rapid succession—“I’ve had a really bad day.”
The old lady keeled over and flopped back like a ragdoll on her chair, and the reanimated corpses in the room each crumpled.
I stood, tightened my grip on the gun, and looked around. Now I just needed a phone.
Chapter Sixteen
Cautious Hope
The stink of dawn rode the air, signaling its approach, so I waited for Peri to come and get me rather than risk the drive back. I huddled by the closed front doors, curtain stolen from one of the windows draped around me. It was musty, a thick scent of age hovering on it, dampness that hadn’t quite turned to mold and the distinct odour of disuse. But it was thick and would block out any sun approaching from the horizon, so it would do. When the car pulled up outside and Peri banged on the door, I threw the curtain over my head and let her lead me back down the steps and into the waiting trunk.
And I rode the whole way back musing on what was possibly the worst day I’d had in the past while. Seriously, it even beat the initial one where Nate was awake and first tried to kill me. Which was hard to accomplish, but yep, flying colours over here. Shittiest day ever.
The familiar rumble of tires over my underground apartment parking lot at least brought a touch of relief and Peri hauled open the trunk after parking. Also a good sign—I wouldn’t put it past her to leave me there. Maybe we could be Ship’s Mast buddies after all—just as soon as my Challenger got fixed.
Le sigh.
She cast a small glare at me as we started up the elevator. “Nic was shitting penguins. Stop doing crap that freaks out my girlfriend.”
“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I get tased and held at gunpoint.” Bitch.
Nicolette was pacing still when we entered the apartment and it was a wonder she hadn’t worn straight through my floor. “Why didn’t you bring a gun?”
Here we go. “They got me from behind. It wouldn’t’ve done me any good.”
“And how did they get you from behind? No one—”
“Well, freshly reanimated corpses not yet stinking who have no heartbeats and don’t breathe can get the jump on me when I’m not expecting them. And you’re one to talk—you got kidnapped in your own home with multiple security measures present by Delarosa’s crew last year, so don’t even fucking start with me, Nicolette.”
Her cheeks flamed, a healthy glow that made her look almost human. Hair was coiled around her face, slightly greased like she hadn’t had a chance to shower in two days, and she even had bags under her eyes—fuck, she was exhausted from working for me, worried sick about me, and now I was flipping out on her.
I sucked.
And I didn’t even get anything to eat. My stomach was twisting in on itself, bloodhunger rising in my veins. I flopped down on my couch and shut my eyes. Voices murmured in the distance and could’ve been from either bedroom—I couldn’t tell without focusing and I was too damn tired for that. Nor did I ask.
“They know Nate’s alive.”
Quick steps on the hardwood sounded like Nic’s and her voice followed. “Who?”
A shrug, my shot and mojoed shoulder twinging. “Dunno. Craig is dead and won’t be bothering us again. Look into a Yoana Vasquez and her organization, see where they set up shop, what sorts of crimes and things they’re into, and who they might know.”
“Is she going to be trouble?”
“No, she’s dead. But if she knew, someone told her. So others know.” And I am in so much shit. My reputation would be totally shot. Those who had paid a combined forty million for Nate’s death might want that money back. Did I have it? Sure. Might have to sell some property, but it was easily doable and I wouldn’t be filing for bankruptcy or a
nything. Would they be out for blood? Maybe. Would I have a shit of a time getting more contracts for decent money when it turned out I’d let a target live? Um, yeah.
“I’ll see what I can find out,” Nic said.
Of course she would. She was a good assistant even when she pissed me off.
“Can you warm a pouch of blood and put it in a mug with a straw?” she said softly and Peri’s steps answered a moment later.
Fucking awesome assistant. I’d have to give her a raise.
I slipped off my boots and curled up on the couch, propping a throw pillow under my head. Finally blinked my eyes open. The light under the spare room door on the lower level was dark, but one glowed up in my room.
“Ryann and Ellie are up there,” Nic said, possibly following my gaze. “He’s talking to Peter. Things seem to be going all right.”
“That’s something.” So I wouldn’t be sleeping upstairs—I didn’t want to intrude on that. Of course, maybe they were talking about me...
Or maybe they were talking about other girls.
I’d never been the jealous type—rat bastard dead husband and his new wife notwithstanding—but I’d invested six years of worry into this would-be relationship and goddamn it I’d be fucking jealous if I wanted to be. The microwave beeped and Peri moved about in the kitchen, then returned a few minutes later with a white mug of VBA blood. Ugh. But I doubted she, Ryann, or Ellie wanted to offer up their necks, so I sighed and accepted it with a nod of thanks.
“Oh and I texted Felix your message from your phone,” Nic called.
“Wire money to Toby and Jules?”
“Of course.”
Good, good woman.
****
I drowsed unpleasantly, got up for a while and spent the day and night both helping Nic try to track down more witchy vampires—just in case—and unsuccessfully looking into the “M.V.” who slipped us the info about Myra in the first place. Ellie and Peter took a break but would be back to help Nate later; supposedly things were progressing well but I didn’t yet want to go up and see for myself.
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