Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2) (33 page)

TWENTY-THREE

“When done right, politics is a blood sport.”

                        
                     —Caine Deathwalker

Josh, Kat, and I rode in back of the limo.  The glass partition was down, letting me see Vivian riding shotgun up front, next to Osamu.  They were included in our conversation which ebbed and eddied as we avoided the grim business we were embroiled in.  It was 2:06 AM by the time we hit midtown.  That’s when I discovered that Kat had a background as both a juvenile delinquent and a professionally trained dancer. 

I shared the rather humorous story of the time Old Man dropped me off a cliff—a training exercise he called it.  “Nearly killed me,” I said.  “Good thing my head broke my fall.”

Strangely, no one laughed. 

During a lull, I sampled a Red Bull from the bar.  On my third sip, Vivian’s phone chimed.  She held it up, turning in the seat so I could see the name on the screen:
Aldo Roma. 
Her face went hard, angry, and even whiter than usual.  Her dark eyes were brightening toward pink, a sign of strong emotion in the dhampyr.

The name on the screen meant nothing to me.  “Ex-boyfriend?” I asked.

“No, the son of a bitch is my father.”  She turned forward in her seat again, speaking into her phone.  “What the hell do you want, and how did you get this number?”

I closed my eyes and concentrated, relying on my heightened hearing for information.  Kat and Josh fell dead quiet as well, listening along with me.

“Can’t a father take an interest in his only living daughter?”

Vivian’s ringing voice had a cold-iron edge, “You’re not my father.  Father’s have souls.  They care about their children.  They don’t try to own them.”

“I’ve made mistakes.  I’ve been arrogant and hidebound, a product of antiquity.”  Roma’s voice had great flexibility and range, managing to weep sorrow and regret, and hint at manfully endured heartbreak.  “I was a champion of the Coliseum with all Rome at my feet”

“Save the history lesson,” Vivian said.  “I get it.  You’re old.”

“I’d like to see you.”

“Not a chance in hot-and-cold running hells.  Wait!  Where are you calling from?”

“I’m in town on business, and I thought—”

Vivian growled into her phone, “You’re here?  In
L.A.?”

Roma chuckled softly.  “Now, Princess, you have to work much harder than that to fool me.  I know you’re in
Sacramento.  So am I.”

You pole-smoking son of a three-legged bitch! 

I had a mental vision of the bodies covered in vampire bites—dangling on meat hooks— back at the wolf compound.  Roma’s business in town was very clear.  From the low growl in Josh’s throat, I knew he’d made the same connection I had.  I drained my can of Red Bull and tossed it across the limo, the partition, and bounced it off the back of Vivian’s head to get her attention.

“Just a minute,” she told Roma, putting the call on hold.  She turned in the seat to glare at me.  “What the hell?”

“Tell him you’ll meet him, but you’re bringing your boyfriend with you.”

“My boyfriend?”

“Me,” I said.

“Why in hell would I do that?”

“He’s connected to this mess.  He’s been playing politics with the wolves and God knows who else.  We need to find out what he’s up to.”

“That’s not smart,” Kat said.  “Give a vamp an inch and he’ll take a hundred miles.”

“And he’s a Master vampire,” Vivian said.  “They’re especially cruel and malicious.  Why not just ask me to stick my arm in a woodchopper?”

“I won’t let him hurt you,” I promised.

Vivian’s eyes were blood-colored now.  “How will you stop him?”

“You’re here to back my play.  It’s what I’m paying you for,” I said.

“Caine—”

I softened my voice, throwing her a seductive glower, “Trust me.”

“Hell, no.  I want a raise.” 

I sighed.  “Fine.”

She turned to face forward, drew a deep breath, and held it.  A moment later, she let it out, putting the phone back to her pointy ear, returning to the call.  “All right.”

“You’ll come alone?” Roma asked.

“Hell no.  I’m bringing my … boyfriend.”

There was a long pause.  “Fine, but no one else.”

“How many thralls are you bringing?” Vivian asked.

“My companions will be near, should I suddenly become imperiled, but you and I will have our privacy.”

“When and where?” Vivian asked.

*    *    *

Vivian and I bailed from the limo on 16
^th
Street, near the Capitol, leaving Kat, Josh, and Osamu to cruise the neighborhood as emergency backup.  There were few people out.  Our steps echoed loudly on the sidewalk.  On our left, along the street, were elm saplings.  On our right was a three-story, red brick building.  The street-level businesses were closed and dark.  We paused by a white, wooden staircase that led up.  By the lobby door, a sign read: White Lotus Steakhouse.  There was an arrow pointing up. 

Vivian said, “Rooftop restaurant.  Want to take the stairs?”

“I’ve had a lot of exercise already tonight, and more is likely.  Let’s take the elevator inside.”  I opened the door and went in, Vivian a step behind.  We crossed a white and green checkered tiles.  A small desk was there but no receptionist or guard.  Frosted glass lamps were attached to the walls.  The wallpaper was a washed-out jade.  I used a thumb to stab the call button of an elevator.  There was only one.  It hummed quietly as the car descended to pick us up.

“You know enough not to look him in the eyes?” Vivian said.

I nodded.  “Not my first suicide-run.”

“He’s a master vampire,” she said.  “He can do a lot with his voice as well.”

“At the first hint of danger, my protective shield will come on, and I’ll kick his ass.  I might not even wait that long.”

“You ever think he might be stronger than you?” she asked.

The doors opened.  I stepped onto the elevator and turned to show her my smile.  “You think I’d want to live in a universe where such a thing could be true?”

She stepped on, stopping a foot in front of me.  “Caine, I’m being serious here.”

I leaned forward and slid my hands past her hips so I could grab her ass.  “So am I.  Have you ever thought about leaving the Slayers and joining Team Caine?  I can get you a demon sword like Osamu.”  I brushed her lips with my own, pulled back, and came in again, teasing her.

She ignored the first kiss, melted a little on the second, and caught my tongue on the third, opening her mouth to mine.  Her arms went around my neck as she crushed herself against me.  She pulled back, her eyes bright pink, fangs showing.  “When it’s more than friends-with-benefits, I stop sharing.  A committed relationship needs to monogamous.”

“You do realize this is the twenty-first century, right?”

She pushed me away.  “Why do I get the feeling that if I were ever serious with you, I’d have to leave you chained in my basement?”

The elevator dinged.  The doors opened and she turned, stepping out, not waiting for my answer.

The restaurant air was alive with the scent of grilled steak.  Polished wood flooring was everywhere.  Vertical beams supported heavy rafters which in turn supported a smoked glass ceiling.  Water tanks displayed live lobster.  The center of the space was a cooking area with professional chefs to prepare the food directly in front of patrons along a bar.  Elsewhere, golden lanterns were hung, casting a gentle light across individual tables.  Huge sliding doors were open so customers could walk out on the rooftop and sit directly under the stars, most of which were invisible in the light pollution of the city.  The place was only a third full with well dressed patrons that looked like they come from the opera or some other type of show.

A hostess intercepted us in a sapphire dress with mottled, orange and white koi swimming across it.  She was a heavy-set, dishwater blonde, an American with her hair piled high, secured with chopsticks in an Asian style.  “I’m sorry; we’re closing soon.  There really isn’t time for you to eat.”

“It’s all right,” Vivian said.  “We’re just meeting someone here for coffee.”

We pushed on, scanning the room.  I was sniffing for vampire.  Vivian of course knew what Roma looked like.  From the name itself, I expected to find someone with Italian features. 

“Not here,” she headed for the sliding doors.  “Must be outside.”

I tagged along, my demon sword just a thought away.  Outside, the concrete had been jazzed up with hunter green, outdoor carpeting.  There were humongous red ceramic urns from which four-foot bamboo trees sprouted.  These had white Christmas lights draped on them.  Scattered across the roof, were more of the wooden tables and chairs, as well as propane heaters that were off, not needed in the summer night heat.

At first, it seemed like no one was out here, but I smelled the sanitized road kill odor of vampires.  More than one. 

Alone, my ass.

One corner of the roof seemed to have caught a large patch of darkness in which lighter shadows roiled.  Vivian headed that way.  I followed a few steps and realized the vampire smell was weakening.  Stopping, I turned back toward the main room of the restaurant and lifted my gaze.  There above the door, casually lounging, dangling their feet from the lip of the structure, were two vamps in Italian suits.  The suits were black linen, expensive, and almost managed to completely conceal the shoulder holsters they wore.  Their shirts were blood red as were their pocketed handkerchiefs.  Their ties were black silk.  Both men had slicked back hair and orangey eyes that glowed like dying embers.

Regular vamps, should be a lot easier to kill than Roma.