Cold Moon Rising (30 page)

I knew I was going to have to stop throwing all this esoteric shit at the poor kid. But she had a lot of promise. It seemed a shame to have all the independent thought beat out of her by the system before she even has the chance to think about real-life stuff.

I opened my mouth again, but she held up a hand to stop me. She just kept blinking and shaking her head in tiny little movements. “Sorry. Brain’s on overload right now. Try again later.”

That made me chuckle, which was just about the time the door opened with a whoosh and sunlight filled the narrow cabin.

We exited into the busy airport and started to head toward the ceiling-mounted screens to find out where Nigel might be arriving. “Charles said American flight one-twelve from New York. I’ll bet that was a slap in his face.”

She turned to look at the side of my face. I could see her brow furrow in my peripheral vision. “Whose face?”

“Lucas told me once that your grandfather’s a British loyalist. Thinks King George never should have given up putting down the colonial rebellion. He apparently vowed never to set foot on American soil.”

She got it in one. Again. “Eww . . . and he’s flying in on American Airlines. Ouch.” Then she shrugged.

“Well, I’m about as American as they come, so he’ll just have to deal with it. I can be polite and learn what he has to teach me, but he won’t convince me that America isn’t the best place on earth to live.”

I just shrugged. I’d been a lot of places in the world, and there are a lot of very cool cities and countrysides. But that was for her to learn. I wasn’t going to argue. We started to move toward the Bnumbered gates. It was going to be a long walk to B-47, since we were starting at A-19. But there was no hurry. The screen said it was delayed and wouldn’t arrive for another hour.

It was when we had just stepped onto the down escalator that I had to backpedal fast and hard, pulling her with me out of the line of other passengers. She nearly dropped her suitcase and did drop her purse, but grabbed it before it went downstairs without her. I motioned for her to follow me quietly. We went to the railing above the main terminal. “Look over there. Isn’t that the same guy you saw at the hospital? Louis Perricone?”

I knew it was. He was walking with Scotty, which was a stroke of luck I couldn’t believe. Unless, of course, they were here looking for me. But how would they get here before us?

She peered over the rail and looked around. Her eyes moved past the pair standing talking at least three times, with no sign of recognition. “Sorry. I don’t see anyone I saw at the hospital.”

“He’s right there. In the center, with the blond kid in the gray suit. Next to the hotdog stand.” I pointed, making sure to be very casual. Then I turned around in case they happened to look up.

She shook her head again. “Nope. Sorry. I see the teenager, but that’s not the guy from the hospital.”

It made me stop and think. While I hadn’t actually seen Louis in the hallway, Mike and Marvin have known him for years. It would be tough to pull the wool over their eyes. Plus, I remembered a friendly scent, even if I couldn’t place it with certainty. I ducked behind a pillar, but kept them in my sights.

“Describe him. The guy you didn’t like the smell of in the hospital.”

“Probably forty and beefy. Very Italian face. Big nose, dark complexion and hair sticking out his nostrils. Yuk.”

Yeah, that was Louis all right. Linda keeps telling him to cut the nose hairs. Even bought him one of those trimmers a few years back. But he won’t. Said he likes the body God gave him and he’s not going to change it and insult the Big Guy.

“Now, describe the guy and the kid.”

She flicked her gaze downward and squinted a little for a closer look. “The teenager is probably sixteen, and he looks like a normal teenager, just dressed up. He’s blond and slender, but he looks like he doesn’t smile much. Has more frown lines than someone his age should have. Hard to judge the other guy’s age, but I’d say thiry-five. Mexican, or . . . no, maybe Middle Eastern. Yeah, sort of an olivey complexion. Straight black hair and dark eyes.” About halfway through, when she said Mexican, I had to look over the rail again. No, that sure looked like Louis to me.

“Wow. That’s some talent you’ve got, kid.”

“What is?” She peered down again, trying to figure out what I was seeing.

“That guy is a Sazi. He’s projecting an image to make himself look like Louis. You remember how you looked away from Charles when he changed back at the clinic? You saw him as naked, right?” She nodded. “Well, the rest of us saw him in a three-piece suit. Not a bit of skin. And we all saw the same suit. We could testify in court or take a lie detector and pass.” I motioned downward with my chin.

“Same thing here. Nobody can fool you with illusion, which is an awesome thing, like seeing through a magician’s trick. But your gift will keep you alive.”

“So is that boy seeing the same thing as you? Is he pretending to be someone the kid knows?”

She’s quick on the uptake. “You’ve got it. But I don’t think he’s a predator . . . at least in the way you’re thinking. But he does want to get him alone. He’s going to lie to him and try to get the kid to give up an article he stole, and—”

“Oh. That’s not so bad, I guess.”

I finished it, because she was still being naive. “And . . . then he’ll kill him. I would bet it won’t be quick, either. I’m thinking this is one of the same guys who sliced the crap out of Carmine . . . my friend in the hospital.”

“So we have to save the thief from the attempted murderer? That doesn’t seem right.”

I shrugged and started to drag her back in the other direction, toward the stairwell. “Actually, we’re saving the murderer from the murderer. Sometimes the ethics are confusing in this biz. Scotty took over my place in Carmine’s family. Don’t underestimate him, and don’t turn your back for a second. In fact—”

I paused and rethought the whole thing, liking the second scenario better. “You’re going to stay here and watch the bags.” I fished the cell phone from my pocket and held it out to her. “You’re an official lookout. I’m going down to meet with them, and try to figure out what’s up. Your mission—”

“Should I choose to accept it—” She didn’t reach to take the phone.

I opened her hand and put it in. “Whether or not you choose to accept it . . . is to use the speed dial to call Lucas and leave a message in case this goes badly. Then I expect you to go find your grandfather at his gate and tell him what happened too. After that, your life is up to you. But remember you’ll need to change tonight on the moon, so if you’re going to duck and run, go somewhere private. Don’t get caught and wind up ratting out all the little shifter kids who’ll end up like you someday. You’ll condemn them to waste away in some prison compound they’ll probably call a reservation for the rest of their lives.”

The last line got through. She blinked and then nodded solemnly and scrolled down the screen until she found Address Book. She took a deep breath and gave a shaky smile. “Okay. All set. Go . . . do whatever it is you do.”

I went and started thinking furiously as I did. I didn’t have a gun, or a knife. In fact, the only thing I had was a garrote hidden in my belt. But that particular belt was up in the bags, so even that didn’t help. If this guy could cast an illusion wide enough to reach me on the balcony, and keep his magic inside enough that I didn’t see the glow, then it was going to be tricky.

Could I pull off happy and effusive? With Scotty and “Louis”? The kid wouldn’t buy it for a second. He’s known me for too long. He’d be suspicious as hell.

I let out a small smile as I headed toward the escalator.

And that was my in.

Chapter Sixteen

MY MIND WAS moving with lightning speed as I kept myself hidden behind the large woman in the flowered dress. As the escalator descended, the little Chihuahua in her arms peeked over her shoulder and let out a fierce tinny growl. But then I looked at him and let the tiniest bit of power slide forward. His bulging eyes went even wider and his ears flattened tight against his furry head. He ducked back into the safety of his owner’s arms and began to tremble until the woman patted him in a comforting way.

They were still talking, not even looking my way. But the Sazi would smell the wolf in me pretty soon. I had to be quicker. My goal was to get the guy to do something very un-Louis-like. Scotty probably didn’t hobnob with the made guys like Louis yet, but he’d been exposed enough that he’d notice something really unusual.

I threw open the door to Sue’s mind as I touched bottom and felt her respond. I need some bright and sunny to pull this off, sweetheart. Can you read some jokes and laugh a little to help?

She spotted Scotty at the same time I did and I felt a moment of panic from her. He’d scared the crap out of her more than once. She didn’t underestimate him a bit. Remember. Bright and sunny. You wanted agent, you got it. The man you’re seeing isn’t Louis. It’s illusion, and I need to expose him to Scotty.

I felt her scrambling in her mind and could actually hear the clicking of keys as she logged in on the computer. I’ve got a jokes folder here. I’ll try to find some funny one.

Until then, I’d have to make do. I raised my hand and raced toward them at a half run, hand held out in front of my body and a smile broad on my face. “Hey! Scotty! Louis! How you guys doing? Haven’t seen you in forever!”

Airports are the place to meet up with people, so nobody even noticed another bunch of guys being surprised by an arriving passenger.

Scotty turned and his jaw dropped. The Louis-clone’s eyes narrowed and I could tell he was thinking frantically, trying to figure out who I was and how he should respond. It took a couple of stammers before the kid responded. “Mr. Giodone. Um, sir. It’s a . . . well, it’s a real surprise to see you here.”

He’d cut his hair short, keeping to the dress code Carmine insists on. He looked older than his fourteen .

. . or, no, he must be nearly fifteen now. He’d started young, taking his first life at six. But he still smelled of fresh yellow mustard, so at least I knew it was him. I grabbed him and wrapped him in a bear hug, rasping my fist against his hair in a big brotherly noogie that flat left him speechless.

Then it was the Louis-clone’s turn. He did smell like Louis, sort of dry and dusty, but so did most of the snakes I’d met. He tried to back away from me, but I wouldn’t have any of it. I threw open my arms, and twitched my fingers for him to come closer. “Aw, c’mon, you old reprobate. We go through this every time. Gimme a hug.”

The light came on in his eyes, figuring that if it was what we always did, he should do it. When he smiled and threw his arms around me with a laugh, I saw the first glimmer of suspicion in Scotty’s eyes. He wasn’t sure who he was suspicious about yet, but there was a definite chink in the armor.

Louis doesn’t hug. Anyone, even girlfriends. He’s that paranoid.

I backed away quick, so it didn’t seem icky and clapped Scotty on the shoulder. “So, how’s everything back home? Everybody good?”

He nodded, confused again. “Uh, yeah. Sure, I guess. Everybody’s fine.” Then he amended, probably figuring I hadn’t heard. “Except, well, Carmine’s a little under the weather. You might want to call and cheer him up.”

A little under the weather. Now, there’s an understatement. “Really?” I asked, completely innocently, all the while waiting for Sue to get me bubbly again. I’m not really good at it for very long. “Well, he’s tough. He’ll be better soon, I’m sure.”

A moment later, I felt her in my head again. She might be late to the party, but when she came through, it was in spades. Geez! I almost forgot! Ask Louis about Carol. They’re getting married, and he’s thrilled. Can’t talk about anything else lately, according to Linda.

I nodded a couple of times and then looked at the Louis-clone again. “So how’s Caroline? You two still fighting? She move out yet?”

He paused for a moment, probably trying to remember if that was the right name. He decided to fake it, and that was his downfall. He shrugged. “Eh. You know. Some nights are worse than others.”

Scotty’s eyes narrowed and he glanced at me when the Louis-clone checked his watch. He was probably hoping to end this fast and get Scotty out the door. I nodded once, the smile off my face completely for that split second, and the deal was done.

Now the kid smiled too and I had to fight the laughter that tried to sneak out at what he said. “Gosh, Mr. Giodone. It was great to see you! We’re headed out to the shuttles to get to my car. Want to come along and talk about old times?”

The Louis-clone didn’t like that much. “We really don’t have time, Scotty. We’ve got to pick up that package so I can get home.”

I walked behind them and put an arm around each of their shoulders. “No time wasted. We’re going in the same direction. I’m heading to the shuttles too.”

Call my cell phone. Liz has it. Tell her not to follow me. I’ll be back in thirty minutes, tops. If I don’t show up, go to Plan B. We already discussed the details.

I didn’t wait for a response. I shut down the connection with Sue and turned on my smile again. As we walked away, chatting like the old buddies we were all pretending to be, I saw Liz answer the call and nod, then put her thumb up in the air where I could see. Good girl.

* * *

I SAT NEXT to Scotty with Louis on the other side of him. My jacket was off now, both because it was too warm, and I would need it later. The shuttle was full, so looking squished together wasn’t tough. About halfway to the lot, I nudged his thigh with a thumb and then made slapping motions with several fingers. He started sneezing all of a sudden and reached into his front pocket. The kid had a real handkerchief . .

. embroidered. I was betting it was a gift from Linda, but maybe a girlfriend. Either way, after he blew his nose lightly and started to tuck it in his pocket with an apology, I felt a pocket knife fall onto my hand. Yeah, I figured he had more than one blade. I cautiously slid it into my back pocket, all without the Louisclone realizing it.

When we reached the lot, Scotty called out, “J-ten, please.”

It was probably the farthest lot from the building, and the farthest drop in the lot. That’s what I’d do, anyway. The Louis-clone’s eyes lit up, probably excited that they were going to be alone. I waited, talking fast until we were about six stops in and then said, “Shoot! That was my stop, back at A-eight. Oh, well. I’ll just ride with you guys and then walk back. No big deal.”

“You could get out at the next stop and not have to walk so far.” The Louis-clone was sounding surly now, so Scotty had to jump in.

“No way! I’ll give you a ride back, Mr. Giodone. There’s no reason he can’t tag along, is there, Mr. Perricone?”

Now, the Louis-clone wasn’t stupid enough to not know what Scotty did for a living, so he probably expected a little paranoia. He changed his tune almost immediately. “Oh, you’re right. Why not chat?

What’s a few more minutes?”

So we chatted, and chatted, and chatted some more, until the whole bus was empty and the end of the lot was near. We talked sports and weather and even, ick, men’s fashion. Finally we were at the stop. We got off together and stayed together until the bus left. Scotty pulled a set of car keys from his pocket. I was a little surprised he had a license. I was betting Carmine took care of that little problem for him with a fake ID.

“Okay,” the Louis-clone said, clapping his hands once and rubbing them together with a smile. “Let’s just get that box and I’ll be on my way.” I was thinking that he was either planning to kill us both, or just take the item and go, rather than risk not getting it at all.

“It’s over on the next line.” He raised his hand like he was going to beep the doors, but then shrugged when there was no answering tone. Hey, wait. I’d seen that key chain before, now that I looked at it closer. It was something Carmine had given to Linda years ago. The “door opener” was actually a switchblade. It opened straight out and locked like a push knife. Linda wound up hitting the button by mistake once and sliced right through her favorite purse. She told Carmine thanks, but no thanks. No big surprise that it had found its way to the kid. Like Carmine said, he likes pointy things. In fact, his trademark as an assassin was to use a blade. As a kid, he could get close pretty easily and the little sicko likes to see the lights go out in a person’s eyes.

We didn’t have a signal, but like I say, he’d watched me for a long time when I was freelancing. I didn’t realize it at first, but then I was sort of flattered, so I didn’t care. I knew he wouldn’t turn me in, because he had more strikes than I did.

I figured the only sign I needed to give him was to drop the persona, and I was right. My face went blank when the Louis-clone turned to walk toward the car and a second later, so did Scotty’s. I opened the blade and then flipped the coat over the Louis-clone’s head. Scotty dove low and knocked his legs out from under him. As a team, we weren’t half bad. He didn’t know about the head and heart thing, but when he drove his push blade upward between the guy’s ribs, I slammed mine into his temple with enough force to get through the skull into the brain. It not only went to the hilt, I pushed the whole damn thing inside the hole. If Scotty wanted it back, he’d have to dig it out.

There just flat wasn’t time for the guy to respond with his magic, which I considered a plus. He might have kicked our collective ass. His thrashing went suddenly still and Scotty tore off the coat down to his neck so he could watch that rare, beautiful sight. Except it wasn’t Louis anymore and he smelled distinctly of snake . . . viper to be precise. The eyes with the light going out weren’t green anymore, they were brown. It was the man Liz had described. The light had faded quickly with the application of the dual blades, silver or not, so Scotty didn’t get to see much. My nice new jacket was soaking up the blood, and unless we dumped him over on the ground, nobody would ever know there’d been a murder here.

But Scotty’s face was confused and I wasn’t sure how I was going to explain that the guy we killed wasn’t the guy he thought we were killing.

I could only think of one thing that he might buy. I’d used the coat over his head so I wouldn’t touch his skin directly and get sucked inside a hindsight, but maybe there could be another reason. “That’s why I covered his face, kid. He’d swallowed some sort of new drug so that every time he breathed, he was making everyone hallucinate. I heard you call him Mr. Perricone from up on the escalator, but I knew this wasn’t him. I was just playing along with what you saw. Carmine told me about this new shit. Said he was afraid the guy was part of that gang from Jersey, wanting revenge, and it looks like he was right.”

He looked up at me, not really certain, so I slammed the ball out of the park. “Because, c’mon. Would the Louis you know ever miss a poker game? It’s this weekend. I’ll bet he’s planning to bring a table into the hospital!”

That made him laugh and suddenly whatever I said was okay. He’d buy it. He’d buy it even more when it turned out I was right about the table in the room. He looked at me with something approaching awe as we picked the guy up and started to carry him to Scotty’s car. “So this was a hitter from Jersey, looking for me? And Mr. Leone sent you to save my life? He’s not mad at me?”

“Oh, no,” I said honestly and with a stern face. “He’s very mad at you. You fucked up big time, kid. You never take a trophy from a job without his express order. This is what happens. I was told to beat the crap out of you if I didn’t think you had the proper respect. But—” I added with a generous air once we’d relieved the guy of the garrote in his pocket and had the body stashed in the trunk, “I think you just got your respect back. Near-death will do that to you. So we’ll leave you with kneecaps. Carmine’s willing to forgive and forget. Provided you give me the trophy to take to him.” He hesitated and I shrugged. “Call him if you want to confirm it. I don’t care. You have Mike’s number, don’t you? He’ll hand Carmine the phone. I got my orders straight from his mouth this morning.”

That was all she wrote. He knew full well I wouldn’t bluff. Not using Carmine’s name. He shook his head and opened the back door. “I’ll be glad to get rid of it. It’s been nothin’ but trouble.”

“Why’d you take it, anyway? Planning to pawn it?”

He handed me a plain cardboard shoe box, wrapped to look like a present. He could use lessons in gift wrapping. “Nah. It’s probably not worth any money. It was gonna be a gift. For my girl.”

Oh-ho! I’d forgotten he had a girlfriend. Must be some gold jewelry. Maybe a ring. “The one from last year? The hooker?”

He shook his head forcefully and there was a certain amount of pride that drifted over the mustard scent. “Yeah, but she don’t do that any more. I sort of knocked her up.” I let out a noise of disapproval, because even at his age, he should know better. But he added quickly, “It’s okay. It was on purpose. We wanna start a family. We planned it this way. It was the only way her pimp would dump her. She’s staying with her brother here in Jersey until she has the kid. Then we’ll skip town and move in together. Her family don’t like me much, but I’ll be good to her and the kid. Mr. Leone will keep me working and said I could have that little apartment out by the pool.”

I didn’t doubt it. Family takes care of their own, even when it’s a weird situation.

“Mrs. Leone said I should get her something pretty, to let her know I was serious. When I saw this, I decided it was perfect.” He glanced at the trunk again. “But it wasn’t worth it. Not by half. I’ll find her something else. Maybe this guy has a few bucks in his wallet. I’ll go to a real store and have them wrap it nice.”

I opened the wrapping and then took off the lid. I was sort of expecting something fancy and gold, so this just sort of floored me. “A knife. You got your girl a knife? Not a ring or necklace?”

He turned serious as death. “Oh, Sally loves knives. Probably more than me. She’s not a girly-girl who wears gold and silver and crap. And you have to admit, it’s really pretty.”

It was, in a weird sort of way. The black obsidian blade was wide and probably six inches long. It had been chipped to a razor’s edge and the patterns of the chips sort of resembled scales. The handle was bone, decorated with inset turquoise and what might be rubies or garnets.

I started to reach for it to take it from the box for a better look, but changed my mind when it started to glow. Another tentative finger toward it said this wasn’t an ordinary knife. I could actually watch as my aura was pulled into the black blade while I sucked in my breath. It hurt. That couldn’t be good.

Yeah, I might use a knife to kill the guys who cut Carmine, but it wouldn’t be this knife. I didn’t want it anywhere close to me. Plus, Scotty didn’t need to know I’d been given the job, and especially with a blade. “Okay, then. I’ll take this back, and you head back yourself. I give my word that nobody has a contract on you, except maybe for these goons and I’ll see what I can do about that. Consider it a wedding gift.”

“Man,” he said, walking around to open his door. “You are something else, Mr. Giodone.”

Another gift. “Call me Tony.”

He beamed, and stayed that way until he dropped me off at the shuttle stop at the terminal.

Chapter Seventeen