With the talk of weapons, my pulse and breathing had settled; the tension still coiled in my psyche loosened.
Yes. I can do this
. I locked the front door behind me and led the way to the limo, sliding across the seat, the leather soft as butter, and replied, “Let’s hope we don’t have to kill anyone tonight. I nearly ruined a perfectly good dress at the last vamp party I attended.”
“I’ll see another is sent to you,” Bruiser said, closing the car door and sitting close, with his outer thigh touching mine. The limo pulled away from the curb as the warmth of his thigh passed through the layers of cloth and into mine. I glanced at the floor of the limo, where Bruiser and I had ended up on our last ride to a vamp party.
Crap. I have a boyfriend. Who disappeared after showing up at
our
breakfast place with different girl.
My heart thumped hard once, and heat that hadn’t been there a moment before whispered through me. It traveled up my thigh to settle low in my belly. A breath later it purled out and through me, giddy and drunken, like the magic of Evangelina’s dancing. Like the spell she had woven out of elation and joy. And I remembered her taunt.
I knew that some of the magic she was dancing had affected me. Calmed me, and then upped the intensity of my happier emotions. I had been in the presence of varied magics, all unlike my own, ever since I first arrived in New Orleans. And around a
lot
of magic in the last couple of days: were-change magic, Evangelina’s witch magic, and even Gee’s blue magic on my skin, any of which might affect Beast’s wild influence, and charge my own skinwalker energies. It was a cocktail of magic that could make any girl a little unsteady.
Bruiser shifted on the seat next to me and the heat in my belly did a little somersault.
Stop it
, I commanded myself. But my pulse sped up and I saw a vision of Bruiser and me on a big bed, with the sheets torn, the pillows on the floor, and the mattress skewed. Us panting and sweaty and a little bloody. Beast’s idea of good sex. Heat steamed though me, hers more so than mine.
Magic. Yeah. This was magic. Evangelina’s magic. And it was powerful. Suddenly, I wondered if the little witch had done it to me on purpose. I couldn’t decide what to do with my hands. I folded them together in my lap, which felt all prissy, not like me. But if I put them to my sides, one would be in Bruiser’s lap. I strangled the desire to laugh, knowing it would come out as a nervous titter. I was a vampire hunter, for pity’s sake. There would be no more mad make-out sessions with Bruiser. Not anywhere. I had a boyfriend now. Rick. Pretty boy Ricky Bo. Who might be cheating on me. At the thought of Rick with another woman, my pulse spiked painfully, my heart twisting inside my chest.
Crap
. What had Evangelina done to me?
Beast placed a paw against my mind, her claws pressing down, exerting enough pressure to almost hurt, but not quite. I saw reddish energies beneath her claws, sparking, sparkling, and curling away. Evangelina’s spell fled from Beast’s claws, and I could almost see it scatter, like pink motes in the darkness. I closed my eyes and sank back against the seat, breathing too fast, but back in control of myself.
“As Leo’s Rogue Hunter,” Bruiser said, and I struggled to remember what we were chatting about. Oh, yeah. Bruiser was still talking about a new dress. “—and hired security, you will be expected to attend many such high-priority functions over the course of the next year, and it will not do at all, to have you appear in the same dress. And don’t complain,” he said, as though I had been about to object to a fitting, which I hated. “You are paid well. Looking beautiful as well as deadly upon occasion is part of your employment requirements, and the dresses come with the job. Madame Melisende will whip up something in her shop to fit your needs, according to your last measurements, deliver the dress, and make any small adjustments. It will take a quarter hour of your time at most. And you do know, don’t you, that most women would groan in pleasure at being given designer clothing as part of an employment package.”
I couldn’t think of anything to gripe about in the scenario he described, especially with him paying, and the unexpected
beautiful
comment. I almost reminded him that I wasn’t most women, but I figured he knew that already.
Bruiser poured and handed me a glass of champagne. I took it, sipped. I’m more of a beer girl, but even I could tell this was very good stuff. It further settled my insides, which were still ruffled by the witch magic. “Nice,” I said.
Bruiser agreed with a murmured note, a soft
hmm
, but he was staring out the car window. He was preoccupied, and as I watched, seemed to pull into himself and away from me, aloof and reserved, caught up in his own thoughts. Better. Much better. His distance and Beast’s paw on my mind cleared the last of Evangelina’s spell from me like the sun evaporated rain. We rode the last blocks in silence.
When we reached vamp HQ, the driver drove around to the back of the building, passing a few cars parked on the street, and one panel-sided van, black. Antennae bristled from the roof. “Cops are watching the place,” I said.
“Noted,” Bruiser said.
The driver parked. Bruiser opened the door and handed me off to his second in command, Tyler Sullivan, with a curt, “Run over the security measures once again with Miz Yellowrock. If she suggests any modifications, make them and inform me of the changes.” To me he added, “The envoy and his assistant arrived this afternoon via private car and have been ensconced in their rooms since.” His mouth formed a thin line and he added, “They brought their own security, one ... something. I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t human. Leo says it isn’t a cat; it smells like dead fish and it’s fast. It left its rooms once and real-time on the camera is a blur, but it didn’t get out of the building. On slow-mo it looks humanoid with green skin.”
Slow-mo was digital feed slowed down. I speculated on what creature had green skin and smelled like dead fish as the demands of the job took over. It didn’t sound like a were, but any creature charged with security detail had a job that might run in opposition to ours. Someone we had to keep an eye on.
Adding a new species into the mix tonight didn’t make me all happy inside. I looked at the men milling in the parking area, armed, dangerous, and smelling like blood-servants. They all looked edgy.
To Tyler, Bruiser said, “Take care of her. Keep her out of trouble.” He walked away.
Keep her out of trouble?
I had no idea what that meant, but there was a more important question to ask Tyler. “Why is everyone so tense?”
Unexpectedly chatty, Tyler said, “Leo hates weres, but with the attention the national vampire council has given the were-cats, he’s had no choice but to deal with the envoy. He isn’t happy about it.” He studied my face, adding, “Rumor has it that
werewolves
are in the city.”
I tilted my head to acknowledge his statement. “They are. And when Leo is unhappy everyone is unhappy. Got it.”
Tyler said, “Come. Your guys are here, under guard, and George wants you to vet them.”
I’m not sticking a thermometer up anyone’s butt
, I thought, but I was wise enough to keep the witty, though vulgar, thought to myself.
“My guys” were six ex-marines, not happy being kept in a locked room, their weapons in the hands of vampire blood-servants. I could hear a shouting match between two hot-headed grunts all the way down the hall. From the expression on Wrassler’s face as he guarded the doorway, he could hear it too—improved hearing, another benefit I could chalk up for blood-servants getting regular blood sips from a vamp.
Tyler veered off down another hallway and I was left with Wrassler, who looked uncomfortable in a suit, like a bear in black tie, communication headset on, earpiece in his left ear. He opened the door and I sauntered in, Wrassler behind me. I interrupted, “If I wanted you guys dead and I had a loaded Uzi, I could have opened this door and sprayed you all down.”
I heard a click from overhead and quickly counted the soldiers in front of me. Five, not the six I expected. I looked up and met Derek Lee’s eyes. His full lips were closed as if holding in a laugh, and he was perched in the supports above the dropped-ceiling tiles. Two tiles had been slid out of the way to allow room for his body, and his dark skin and night camos blended with the shadows. He had a nine millimeter aimed at my head, and another one aimed at Wrassler. The argument had been a ruse to keep us from seeing how many were present until someone had the drop on us. Neat and clever. The big guy behind me was frozen into immobility, a gun inches from his nose. Only now did I realize that the room didn’t smell of anger pheromones. I started laughing.
“If you’d wanted us all dead,” Derek said, “you’d have been leading the way through the pearly gates, Injun Princess. Nice dress, by the way, especially from here.” Derek was looking down the front of my dress. I resisted the urge to spread a hand over my chest.
Wrassler asked, “How’d you get a weapon in here?”
“I’m good. Better than your boys.” Derek dropped from the ceiling, landed with easy grace, and handed me the weapons. The demonstration was finished, and my position as alpha established by the relinquishing of the guns. It was nicely handled. Vintage Derek.
“Derek Lee, meet Wrassler,” I said.
“Good name for you,” Derek said.
“How come you don’t have a nickname?” Wrassler asked. Derek looked at me.
I didn’t have an answer. Some people had nicknames, some didn’t. Simple. I wasn’t into self-examination to figure out why. “Have you had a look at the grounds?” My question wiped away the last of the effects of Bruiser’s thigh against mine, and if a little voice was still making suggestions that I sleep with him, I could blame it on spells and Rick with another girl. It was time to work.
“We got a man in over the back wall near the parking area. Inserted a camera. Saw a funny-looking little guy speeding around.”
“Green skin?” I asked.
“Coulda been. Low light camera only showed heat sigs. He’s colder than a human, hotter than a vamp.”
“You got a man in to the compound?” Wrassler repeated.
“In and out. Slick as owl shit, my man. Like I said. We’re way better.”
Wrassler’s mouth turned down. To stave off the looming pissing contest, I said, “We need to work the grounds and the building. Wrassler, send an electronics tech with one of Derek’s men and see if you can find anything the Leprechaun might have planted on cars or the premises.”
“I’ll go with the ET guy.”
I looked at the grunt who was speaking. He had been with Derek and me on two other jobs and survived both, but I’d never been privileged to know his name. This time he was wearing military ID stenciled on his chest pocket that said V. Angel’s Tit. My brows rose, and the guy, who was probably a mixed-race kid, with café au lait skin and green eyes, grinned at me. It seemed I was still not worthy of knowing their names. A quick glance around showed me the names, V. Martini, V. Lime Rickey, V. Chi Chi, V. Hi-Fi and V. Sunrise. “V as a first initial with a drink name after. This job’s code name is Vodka?”
“Vodka Ball Buster,” Derek said.
I assumed a ball buster was another drink. Derek’s name was officially V. Lee’s Surrender. I didn’t know what drink it was, but the Civil War note was cute. “Get ’em their weapons,” I said to Wrassler, “assign them each one of your security guys or gals, and let them get to work. If
they
got in over the wall, we have to assume that someone else could have too.”
Wrassler nodded and touched his headset, speaking softly into the mike. “What about you?” he said to me when he was done.
“I want to see the security console again and check out the camera placement updates I recommended. I want to look over the press entrance again. And I’m hungry.”
“The greenroom is on the third floor, off the ballroom. Snacks and sandwiches, water, colas, and coffee are available. Beer and drinks after, with a real meal, if anyone wants,” Wrassler said.
“That’s mighty white of you,” Vodka Chi Chi said, baiting the bigger man.
Wrassler said, “You want to say thanks, offer a little sip to one of the Mithrans.” He grinned and it wasn’t intended to convey humor. “They like
fresh meat
.”
Chi Chi sneered. “I’m not a blood whore, white boy. None of us are, except to heal combat wounds suffered in the employ of Mr. Pellissier.”
Wrassler laughed again. “Die young then, sonny. I’m sixty-four years old.” The two men looked one another up and down, while surprise blinked its way through the soldier’s dark eyes.
“If y’all are finished sniffing each other,” I said, “we have work to do.”
Men
.
We split up, me with Wrassler and Derek in the electronic monitoring room, where I got my first glimpse of the green-skinned security guy. He was no Lucky Charms Leprechaun, all stovepipe hat and chin whiskers. He was a little golem of a fellow, Yoda with fangs, about five-two, slender as a reed, with joints that seemed to bend the wrong way, bones that seemed too slender and too knobby. His head was too big for his body, his ears were set too far back on his skull, and when he ran, he seemed to be on his toes, like a dog or cat. His clothes were loose and baggy, hiding a full view of how he was put together, which might have been vaguely froglike.
Beast sat up and peered at him on the monitor, holding me down with a paw. She didn’t send me any images or comments, but I got the distinct impression that she wanted to kill the little green guy—yeah, he was pale green, like olive serpentine or some bread molds—and leave him for the buzzards.
I had no idea what he was, but Wrassler got word quickly that Green Moldy Guy had planted a dozen spy-eyes in the parking area and on the grounds, his actions all undetected by the monitors until the footage was viewed slow-mo and the time stamps compared to Derek’s visual of the grounds. The envoys weren’t playing fair, and clearly had an unannounced, undisclosed goal in New Orleans. It took us the better part of an hour for Derek’s IT guy to find and remove the minicameras in the parking area. We got it done just in time for the clans to start arriving.