Midnight's Emissary Page 7
“The tall one spent over a thousand dollars before the short one got his card back.”
Heh. That’s a pretty big payday. Guess it paid not to piss off the regulars.
Now that his rocking had nearly stopped and he wasn’t clinging to the wall like he was trying to pass through it, I decided to chance a couple of questions about his statue impression.
“Rick, do you remember how you ended up in the woods outside the bar.”
I used the word ‘woods’ loosely as the area was more underbrush and young trees that had reclaimed the area.
“Don’t remember.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” I asked, trying another tack.
His eyes avoided mine as he stared into the corner. “Last thing. Last thing. I had just rewired that jerk’s car horn to his lights.”
“And then?”
His forehead wrinkled as he frowned. “I heard something.”
We were getting somewhere.
“Do you remember what that was?”
He touched his ear. “It was something I’d heard before. Or maybe not.”
Ok, that was a little less helpful.
“The dark.” He latched on to my arm, dragging me closer. “It had eyes. Many, many eyes.”
“Do you know who did this?” I asked again. I didn’t know what to do with the dark having many eyes. Was that a metaphor for something? Was there more than one attacker?
His eyes shifted back and forth. They landed on me, terror building in their depths.
“I must go,” he moaned.
“Go? Go where?”
“I must go. He will be displeased.”
He started patting his head and rocking back and forth.
“Who will be displeased?” He moaned louder and started hitting himself harder. “Rick? Who will be displeased?”
“Now. I must go now. The dark will come back. The eyes will come back.”
“What eyes? Who? Give me something, Rick.
He threw his head back and wailed.
“He will devour me.” He came to his feet, baring razor sharp teeth. His eyes filled with madness and rage.
He was seriously freaking me out. I’d never associated the little hobgoblin with something dangerous before, but right now he had the look of a cornered animal ready to tear apart the predator threatening it. Somehow I had the feeling I was supposed to be that predator.
He leapt, sharp claws catching my jacket as I rolled to the side. He landed on a box in the corner.
I watched him for any sign of movement as I backed towards the only door in the room. If I could make it there, I could lock him in and get Dahlia. She had more of a history with him. Maybe she could talk some of the crazy out of him.
“Rick, I think it would be best if you stayed here.”
“He calls. I must go,” he seethed, his face twisting with fear and madness.
I took another step toward the door. How fast was a hobgoblin? I was fast, but was I fast enough? His display earlier didn’t give me a lot of confidence.
“We can figure this out together.”
“Lies. There is no safety, no light. Only him and darkness and death. He comes and the world will tremble before him.” His voice rose to ear splitting levels.
He crouched. I turned and fled, leaping for the door. It slammed shut behind me. A thump hit it and then a voice rose in rage.
“So it is as I thought,” Dahlia said from where she’d pulled the door shut.
I leaned against the wall and gave her an exasperated look.
“Thanks for the assist. Too bad you didn’t come in earlier.”
Yes, I responded with sarcasm when I had my life threatened by a person no taller than my waist. It was a flaw. Everyone had them.
“You seemed like you had it in hand,” she said.
Really? In what way. The part where he was huddled on the floor like a trauma victim or the part where he tried to tear me apart with his claws and teeth? Because I wasn’t seeing any way I had handled that well.
“Since you seem to know what this is, would you care to explain?”
There was another thump against the door.
“We’ll leave him there until this has passed.”
A black tendril of smoke wrapped itself around the door, shielding it from view. It faded away leaving nothing but a blank wall behind.
Handy trick, that. I needed to figure out how she did that. As far as I knew she wasn’t a sorcerer. Or a witch. She had skills that often left me scratching my head. I didn’t ask what she was, figuring she’d share in her own time, or I’d puzzle it out when I knew more about this world.
Dahlia headed to the bar.
I hesitated, asking, “We’re just going to leave him in there?”
“He can’t get out and most can’t get in. He should be safe enough.”
I gave the space where the door had been a skeptical look. If she said so.
I followed her, taking a seat. It was a slow night, and the end of the bar I’d claimed was empty. Only a few stools taken.
The bar was in the shape of an L. A big mirror framed the wall behind the bar where I sat and every type of liquor you could think of, and a few I’d never heard of, lined the shelves. Despite that, the clientele here mostly preferred beer so there were several types in the cooler and on draft.
The other walls had a maroon patterned wallpaper covered by framed sepia photos and one of a kind posters. It was part saloon, part watering hole.
The lighting wasn’t the best. There was a smoky haze to the room as if people had lit up hundreds of cigars in here over the years until the haze became a permanent part of the décor. It didn’t smell like smoke though. It smelled like broken dreams and desperation.
Dahlia poured me a lemon drop martini and a jack and coke for herself. She slid both across the bar and then walked around to join me on a stool.
No one blinked at the bartender taking a seat beside a customer. That was the kind of place this bar was.
I took a sip. That was good stuff. No one made a lemon drop martini like Dahlia. It was the perfect mix of sweet and tart. I don’t know how she knew it was my favorite drink, but she made it for me every time I came in.
“Back to my question,” I said, once I’d savored my lemony drink. “Do you know what caused that?”
She brought her drink up to her lips but didn’t sip from it, instead staring unseeing at the bar top. She put the drink back down.
“I have a guess.”
When no answer was forthcoming, I prompted, “And that is?”
“Have you talked to your werewolf friends lately?” she asked instead.
I fought my sigh, knowing it would be useless to give in to my frustration.
“What werewolf friends?”
As far as I knew, I had none.
She gave me a sidelong glance and quirked her lips.
I thought a second longer. She couldn’t mean Brax and his crew of psychopaths, could she? Because they weren’t friends by any stretch of the imagination. We’d worked together briefly during the draugr situation last year, but I hadn’t talked with them since then. Mostly by choice. I had no wish to change that.
“Do they know you don’t consider them friends?” she asked, her face still reflecting a sly amusement.
“I doubt they care one way or the other.”
“Hm.”
“What’s that mean?” I asked.
She shrugged a bare shoulder. “Just think you might be wrong, that’s all.”
I narrowed my eyes at her, swishing the liquid in my martini glass. She’d gotten me off topic, and now I wanted to know what all her questions were about.
“I don’t see what any of that has to do with Rick and his impression of a statue.”
Dahlia picked up her drink and stood. “You should talk to your friend.”
&nbs
p; She walked off.
“Wait. That’s it?” I called after her.
That told me nothing about what was going on. Nothing.
I took an angry sip of my drink, giving a small hum of pleasure.
“Well this is a surprise. A vampire enjoying – what is that?” A woman with red hair curling in a mess of waves around her head reached past me and picked up my martini. She took a small sip and made a face. “A lemon drop martini? Really?”
“Really.” I took my glass back from her, careful not to spill a drop.
I gave the woman me a once over, noting the feral air she had. She was in tight jeans and a black fitted shirt with the saying “keep it real.” Her smile had a dangerous edge to it. She moved with lethal animal grace to take the seat Dahlia had vacated.
Now I saw why Dahlia was asking me about the werewolves.
“Sondra.”
“The sun fearing vampire.” She shot me a wicked grin.
I rolled my eyes, while mentally shushing her. The fact that I was a vampire and a baby one at that hadn’t made the rounds yet. I wanted to keep it that way.
Sondra wasn’t my favorite werewolf. She’d once chased me around a kitchen trying to get me to sip blood from her wrist. Since I had never consumed live blood straight from the source, I refused. It took Brax, the werewolves’ alpha, to get her to back off.
I looked around for Dahlia, but it seemed she had disappeared. Figured.
“What brings you here?” I asked.
She stole my drink and took another sip. I started to protest but decided I didn’t want to get between a werewolf and liquor. I probably shouldn’t drink it anyway since I was technically still working.
“Wanted to see what my favorite little vampire was up to.”
I arched an eyebrow. Really? Sure, I’d buy that. Not. I hadn’t heard anything from the werewolves since I’d saved their alpha’s ass. Sondra and I hadn’t exactly been bosom buddies in the short time we’d known each other. At least on my end. Who knew with the werewolf?
“Uh huh.” I’d play, but only to find out what she was really up to. “So how is the pack getting along after Victor’s plot to overthrow Brax failed?”
A shutter slammed down over her face. “That’s pack business.”
Outsider’s not welcome, huh? I shook my head and got to my feet. I so didn’t have the patience or time for their cliquish bullshit.
“Great. Well, it’s been not so nice seeing you.”
“Wait. Where are you going?”
I gave her a look. One that said ‘what world do you live in?’
She stared back at me as if she didn’t quite understand the look or why I would give it to her.
After a beat where she was clearly not getting it, I said, “I’m not in the mood to play whatever game you’ve got going on. You want to pull the pack business card? Fine. I don’t really care, but I don’t plan on sticking around to get shut out again.”
With that, I walked away.
“That’s not what I was doing.” She prowled next to me, keeping pace easily.
“You said ‘that’s pack business.’ What else is that supposed to mean?”
I pushed open the door and walked out, pissed that Dahlia had put me off so I could talk to the werewolf when I didn’t really have anything to say to the werewolf and when the werewolf had nothing important to say to me.
It wasn’t Sondra’s fault. Not really. The thing with Rick had freaked me out more than a little bit and Sondra had simply approached at the wrong time and pushed one of my many buttons. Hence my feeling of being done with this conversation.
“Will you slow down?” Sondra positioned herself in front of me, blocking me from getting my bike. “After what you did for Brax last year, that was a shitty statement.”
Some of my anger abated. None of the wolves had ever acknowledged I had done anything for them. The vampires either. I wasn’t expecting a thank you from those control freaks, but a simple chin nod of acknowledgement would have helped.
“Uh huh.”
I wasn’t willing to let this go yet. Especially since I still didn’t know what she wanted. And she did want something. She wouldn’t have chased me down otherwise.
“We’re having some internal problems after what went down with Victor. There’s also been a few weird things happening that has us all on edge.”
Oh? Tell me more. Their weird happenings wouldn’t happen to be werewolves freezing in place only to wake up paranoid and trying to answer a summons from an inkblot with a thousand eyes? Because that would mean that whatever had happened to Rick was affecting the wider supe population of Columbus.
“Yeah, I heard about that,” I bluffed.
I’d heard no such thing. The werewolves kept things tight, but I was hoping that Sondra would assume I had heard something and maybe let something important slip.
The skin around her eyes tightened though her face didn’t shift.
“I hadn’t realized Brax had already contacted you.” Her voice held a hint of suspicion.
I shrugged, not wanting to chance telling another outright lie. Not with their ability to scent deception.
“If you could just keep an eye out for us and report back if you find any wolves acting suspicious, the pack would appreciate it.”
Something was going on with them. I wanted to ask questions, see if her problem had anything in common with the hobgoblin in Dahlia’s store room. I kept my mouth shut.
She gave me another assessing glance, her eyes nearly glowing yellow at the shift of the light.
“I’ve got to go. If you find something, call me first.” She handed me a business card.
I took it, reading the front. It said Sondra Banter and then a number. I flipped it over and found it was black with a crescent moon on it. Cute. And oddly elegant.
She strode off, leaving me staring after her.
This evening just got weirder and weirder. Starting with the homicidal hobgoblin, followed by a bartender acting all mysterious and then the werewolf wanting help with a problem she never bothered to finish briefing me on.
This sounded like the beginning of a joke. It felt anything but.
Chapter Five
My phone rang as I unlocked my bike chain. For a split second I thought about ignoring it and letting it go to voicemail. I disregarded that notion almost as soon as I thought it. Janice would rain fire and wrath down on me if she found out I let a client go to voicemail. Jerry wouldn’t be far behind her.
I stood up and fished the cell out of my bag. The screen made me want to pretend I never heard it ring.
With a sigh, I touched the answer button.
“Liam.”
“Where are you?”
What kind of question was that?
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“As the client paying a lot of money for your undivided attention on this job, I suggest you answer the question.”
I sighed, looking up at the sky. There were too many clouds to see the stars tonight.
Patience. Just because you wanted to snap back didn’t mean you had to.
“Nowhere in my contract does it say I’m supposed to be at your beck and call,” I said, struggling to sound reasonable and businesslike.
“It also didn’t say you were going to make zero progress on our problem.”
“I just got this case a few hours ago. Like literally three hours ago.”
His sigh suggested he was speaking to a child. “We have very little time before the selection. That is why I wanted your full attention on this matter.”
“I don’t even understand why you’re doing this for him. It seems like an awful long way to go just to make sure he gets to be the grand poo bah of Columbus.”
“You don’t need to understand. You just need to get this done.”
I bit my tongue. Don’t antagonize the client. Especially don’t antagonize the big bad vampire who is capable of making your life hell and destroying everythi
ng you ever loved.
“Of course, Liam,” I said, injecting as much toadying as I could into the words. “I’ll make sure to give this my full attention as you requested.”
“I have no doubt.” His voice rumbled over the phone. “I need you at Asylum in the next twenty minutes. I have some leads I want you to run down, and I plan to personally supervise your progress.”
What? No. That wasn’t happening. I was not working closely with him.
“Sounds great. Be there as soon as I can,” I said.
The phone clicked. I looked at the screen. He hung up on me. Bastard. Guess we weren’t saying goodbyes.
* * *
The last time I visited Asylum, I didn’t know it was owned by vampires. I only found out when I was dealing with the draugr incident and Liam had tried to order me to turn myself in for my personal safety to Asylum. I hadn’t been back since. It was too bad. They had great drinks and the atmosphere wasn’t bad if you went when it wasn’t busting at the seams with people.
Even though it was well after midnight, there was a crowd waiting to get their dance and drink on. I slipped through while the bouncer was intent on checking the ID’s of a trio of college girls who definitely didn’t look old enough to be in here.
The bouncer didn’t look too concerned, finding himself more inclined to pay attention to the revealing cleavage than their obviously fake ID’s.
The club had many different sections, allowing a partier to drift through a maze of rooms and themes. The entrance was an outdoor oasis complete with tropical plants, a few fountains and a couple of high tops with no seats and a tiki bar. There was even a few hammocks and benches attached to the ceiling with long chains.
A cobblestone path led the way inside where there were two more bars on either side of a gaping maw of dark punctuated by flashing lights. Music spilled out of the room as a sea of bodies writhed under lights designed to highlight their frenzied movements.
I headed for the bar on the right. It seemed a little less crowded than the bar next to the dance floor, but it was still standing room only. I had to elbow my way to the counter and slide between two inebriated men. I rolled my eyes as they kept up a running commentary about all the ‘bangin’ bodies’ walking around.