“Not with this many odors wafting together. Even after improving your human brains, they can only process so many senses at once.”
“Meaning?”
“I chose improved sight and hearing over the others.” Annie B led me to a large open area where samples of the auction lots were on display. “See if you can’t discreetly use that rather large eyeglass of yours to scout out necro-anima.”
“And if the guards jump me?”
“Claim you’re my personal jeweler.”
“Do you actually have one of those?”
“Not since the nineteenth century. As you humans say, ‘diamonds are forever,’ and how many do you really need after the first century of your life?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I growled to myself. “Hey, if you see a body, that might be a clue too.”
“I’d punch you right now if it wouldn’t draw a crowd of guards.”
“I know, Annie, that’s why I’m enjoying getting away with teasing your sensitive ass. Five-hundred years old and ya can’t take a joke.”
She glared. Somehow she made her expression convey that she was angry at me, but she would be willing to take out her anger with whips and chains if I was interested. “Necro-anima,” she said again.
“Yeah, yeah. Where you gonna be?”
“. . . Snooping.”
“Don’t get caught, we’ve already established I ain’t rescuing you.”
The items were placed on podiums about ten feet from each other. Samples only in most cases, not the whole thing. They had placards with lot numbers, actual size of product, and any pertinent information. All professional like. We are a real auction house; ignore the guards, ignore the warehouse, trust us.
Illicit wonders alright. A cornucopia overflowing, just waiting to be had, power and status just waiting to be bought. A few artifacts, all labeled as Guild designed and crafted. The usual old-ass shit they pump out, but not like they sell directly to this crowd. A few allotments of different-quality Hydro-Slush. Vials of anima. Something called Angel’s Blood, which from reading the description was a vampire narcotic even body brokers wouldn’t sell.
I scanned it all with my monocle. Slush came up deep blue, as expected. Vials came up what they were supposed to come up. Angel’s Blood had corpus-anima in it, strangely enough. There was a podium of needles labeled ‘Memories’ that held menti-anima and weirded me out plenty. A stash of ‘light diamond’ jewelry loaded with spectro-anima. A picture of thirteen weasels offered up as anima type tested and a Make Your Own Were Nation Kit for dummies.
Just what the world needs, the Weasel Nation.
No necro-anima on anything.
The guards kept an eye on me, but no more than anyone else. I wasn’t the only one intently studying the merchandise. Only idiots wouldn’t at an auction labeled ‘illicit.’
I stopped at a wall of pictures. Pictures of corpses. With numbers underneath for lot, age, death type, even freshness. I hate these people so much. More than I hated Paine and his little child snatching ring? No . . . but close, very close. Wouldn’t be happy until I snapped necks all around, so why put a priority on one over the other?
I studied the pictures to be sure, but not one looked like they were prime Eresha shell material. Bodies, not shells, fucking bodies. No famous people, not even beautiful people. Pretty and handsome some of them. No fuglies or fatties, that’s for sure. There’s a lesson humanity: don’t stand out. Get fat. It’ll save your life. Unless there’s a zombie after your ass . . . bad luck on that one.
Speaking of Constructs . . .
I checked the wall of pictures for necro-anima.
Came up blank.
Guess we’re gonna be interrogating whoever runs this shitstain. Him and his twenty-something guards with machineguns. Think he’ll back down if we ask nicely?
“Not taking up necrophilia, are you?” a teasing voice asked me.
I frowned. Turned . . .
You got to be shitting me!
Eva Reti greeted me with her usual playful punch into my shoulder.
She had on the classic Little Black Dress she always wore. Probably a different dress every time, but it was a style that suited her and she stuck with it. Every Winter Ball for six years it was that black dress, including the one I went to her with.
“Hey,” I managed, all smooth moves.
Eva smiled up at me. She was built like a gymnast, muscles in surprising places you don’t expect them on a woman, even a woman who works out. Neck, shoulders, thighs and the like. She had the Class 09’ P.E. female record for push-ups and pull-ups—with only a few of the corpusmancer boys ahead of her for the whole class—and the rope-climb record was hers by over two seconds.
She was as adventurous a person as I’ve ever met and that’s how I thought of our almost year-long relationship: an adventure we had together. Thing about adventures is that they’re never permanent, so eventually it ended . . . but it was fun while it lasted. I thought back fondly on her dusky voice whispering my name, on those gray eyes looking up at me.
Seeing her here was kind of like getting caught masturbating by your sister.
Which JoJo did on purpose to embarrass me, I don’t care what excuses she makes about the door opening by itself!
To keep up this wonderful analogy, I put my monocle away like it was a now flaccid penis. “What, uh, you doing here, Eva?”
She winked at me, them gray eyes sparkling like we’d just started another adventure together. “What are you doing here, Lover Boy?”
I cleared my throat to buy time for my mind to think up something other than the truth, but it came up blank. It was too busy recalling that nickname being whispered into my ear. That all you got, Lover Boy?
I’ve heard her talk to horses in the same tone. I tried to not think about what that meant regarding my status in the relationship.
“I’m . . . working,” I eventually got out.
“So am I.” Eva studied the board of body pictures before adding, “Not for that.” She nodded at the Angel’s Blood, the Memory syringes, and some of the artifacts, “Those.”
“Val said you’re a spy.”
Eva’s eyes kept twinkling. “When I have to be. I’m always what I have to be in this job. Or where I have to be or who I have to be.”
“Sounds like you love it.”
“I do.” She punched my shoulder again. “You would too.”
“You know who’s running this thing?” I asked, hoping she’d have an answer for me.
But she shook her head. “Guards are Weres of a few sorts. We’ve been tracking them as they procured all the items for the auction. They’re either stolen or given over as payment for other illegal services. Whoever is behind this has been planning it for awhile . . . they’re about to become a big name in the world.”
“Not Vega then?”
“Your brother-in-law?” she pointed out.
I sighed. Of course ESLED knew about that. “Yeah, him.”
“I figured you were here for him.”
“I’m here for the Divine Court,” I finally admitted.
She punched me. This time it wasn’t so friendly. “Are you stupid?”
I mumbled something about a million dollars.
She punched me yet again. Harder. “So, yes, stupid.”
I mumbled something more about not having a choice in the matter.
“Any of the Weres figure that out and they’ll shoot you.”
“Good thing King Henry has me to watch his back,” Annie B said to announce her presence. She really did like that mysterious arrival move to throw people off right at the start of the conversation.
She held out a glass for me. It was filled with bourbon. I drank from it so I didn’t have to make introductions. I’m starting to think I have too many ex-girlfriends. If only I wasn’t such a man-whore . . .
Eva sized Annie B up.
Annie B sized Eva up.
“You’ve got to be kidding, Lover Boy,” Eva finally said, s
haking her head at me.
“Shadeshifter, ESLED trained based on the reactionary stance . . . Fines Samson himself? You must be good,” Annie B read her like a book.
Eva’s jaw dropped a little bit before it clamped shut. “Please tell me you aren’t cheating on Boomworm with her. I’ll have to tell her, you know, and then you’ll be ashes.”
“Of course not,” I growled, “and Val trusts me.”
“Never could figure why . . . I never did.”
“Jealousy for which we eventually broke up,” I accused her heatedly.
“You were thinking about it and you know it. And you did once we broke up.”
“I only did it because you blamed me of doing it . . . figured I might as well get a taste of what my crime was.”
Okay, so maybe our breakup hadn’t been as amicable as we both pretended it was at the time. And maybe our relationship hadn’t been as Friends with Benefits as much as we pretended it was either . . . maybe it was realer than that and neither of us could take realer than that . . .
Annie B practically glowed from the spat, like it was all a show for her amusement. “This is quite entertaining, King Henry, but we need to find our seats for the auction and I’m sure Agent Reti needs to do the same.”
Again Eva’s jaw dropped yet again before she hauled it back into place a second later. “How can you know that?”
“You’ll get there eventually, dear,” Annie B encouraged her, “if you live long enough. Tell that old teacher of yours that I miss seeing him out in the field and I hope his scars still ache in the winter.”
Annie B walked towards the seats, but I waved that I’d be a second. I turned back to Eva. “I didn’t mean that. Just my nerves from this whole situation talking.”
She looked down. “I am jealous. Not about back then, about now.”
“About Val?”
“She gets her second chance to make it right and if you two work out . . . I don’t get mine.”
Damn women, making me all emotional and shit. I tried to be light about it. “Don’t worry; I’m sure I’ll fuck it up eventually.”
“You probably will,” she ruefully agreed, “but even then . . . I have to root for the two of you. You and I never get our second exciting journey together.”
“Sure you’re not a mentimancer?”
“Thinking the same thing about us, are you, Lover Boy?”
“Yeah . . . also thinking that we don’t need to be having sex to kick some ass together one day.”
She immediately perked up. “Trying to convince me to save you from that bloodsucker you’re spending time with?”
“Annie B ain’t so bad.”
Eva’s jaw dropped for the third time. “That’s Anne Boleyn?”
“I know . . . historical figure—”
“No! Anne Boleyn is a legend! She’s like . . . a vampire James Bond.”
“Also Ceinwyn Dale’s babysitter,” I gossiped despite the location.
“No way!”
“Straight from the horse’s mouth.”
“. . . There was a rumor going around earlier in the year that you had sex with a vampire . . .” Eva remembered.
“So yeah, time for me to find my seat.”
[CLICK]
I wish Eva was the only surprise appearance of the evening.
I really do.
Might have saved me from killing a guy.
But Fate’s wheel of fortune is rigged against me.
[CLICK]
I sat down next to Annie B.
For some reason she’d chosen the front row of seats.
“No necro-anima,” I informed her.
She was more interested in the other conversation, the one involving my love life. “I like her quite a bit more than your little blond princess. I might even be up for sharing you with her. Think she’d be interested in that?”
“Even Eva doesn’t know what she’ll go for until it’s sitting in front of her.”
“A girl after my own heart.”
“Did you find anything interesting while you snooped?”
“Just a great many guards backstage. If you’re no longer attached to Agent Reti, you won’t mind if I play with her, will you?”
“This the next stage of your plan to get me back in your bed? Reverse jealousy?”
“It could be. Or I might just be bored. You’ll never know. Would you like a hint at what I’m planning on wearing tomorrow?” She leaned in, lips almost touching my ear. She whispered, “Nothing.”
My body shivered despite myself.
She kept whispering, taunting me as the seats filled up around us, “Agent Reti used to wear nothing in front of you, didn’t she? So free and ready and willing to play. But not your little blond princess. She covers up the second you two are finished with each other, doesn’t she? Might only be a sheet, but it always has to be something. Doesn’t trust herself to be open with the world, even with you, no matter how often she says the words.”
Again, Annie B, for all her charms, had picked the wrong Choose-Your-Own-Adventure page. She was a predator, so she attacked at the first opening she got. Another night of flannel and popcorn and my ass might’ve done something to regret. But here was the temptress again, with a shiny new button labeled ‘Eva’ to press. She played a symphony with it, just like she always did, but playing was the wrong move with me.
You have died of dysentery.
Playing with my buttons made me stand against her in eternal defiance. Made it easy for me to stop the shiver, to turn to her and say, “Eva and you would be good together. Go for it.”
Annie B’s lips parted. “How do I keep going wrong with you this time?”
“Because this time you actually want me.”
She shifted back into her own seat, eyes finding the floor, contrite as a schoolgirl. “Ceinwyn’s right, your head is about to fall off from being so inflated.”
It was my turn to smirk, but I also let myself follow the tug from another string. “Talked to her, have you?”
“The usual. Promised to keep you safe, all that mushy stuff you humans require every other hour.”
“So . . . you decided that putting me in a room with a few dozen machineguns would keep me safe?”
Annie B regained some of her fire. “They’re only Weres.”
So they were.
Doorman appeared on the stage, taking a microphone. “Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the first night of the Auction of Illicit Wonders.”
A polite clapping greeted him, excited but reserved. Doorman continued with a grin, “A few of my lovely ladies will now go around passing out paddles and brochures for tonight’s lots. You’ve no doubt seen the samples on display, but I must warn you that something special might appear before the night is over.”
Murmuring and nodding from the crowd, like this was expected.
I leaned over to Annie B, “Let’s hope it’s one of our missing bodies. I’m tired of sleeping on your couch.”
“You don’t have to sleep on my couch.”
“I really do.”
“Well, if it is a shell you can go on your way, but if it’s not . . . did I mention I’ll also be inviting my blood donor to the condo for the day?” Annie B asked. “We’ll try not to be too loud.”
I gulped, but said nothing.
Annie B’s smirk returned to her face. “I haven’t decided on a male or female donor yet. But I think I’ll treat myself to another of Moshi’s Stables as long as Nii-Vah keeps offering. Haven’t you been curious about what the feminine specimens of that breed look like, King Henry?”
Doorman kept on talking despite the murmurs. He had a voice like a ring announcer, deep, just a little dirty, and with a small twang that said country. “Before we begin the night, let me first introduce our benefactor for the evening!”
Everyone craned their heads, as interested in the mystery man behind this all as they were in the illicit wonders.
Probably bets on who it was.
I hadn�
�t made one . . . but I still fucking lost.
“Hector Vega!”
Suit came out in a nicer suit than even his usual. His wife, Pajamas or Zoey depending on your point of view, was dressed up and blinged out, hanging on the crook of his arm. He waved at the applause, making out like the pompous jackass that he was.
I burned down his mansion.
Knocked his wife out. Tied them both up.
Now he had me surrounded.
It wasn’t even a trap, but somehow I walked into a noose.
Hector Vega finally noticed me. For a second his expression was shock, then anger, and finally a grin slowly rose into place, showing off artificially whitened teeth.
The grin said: How lucky can I be? After tonight I’ll be a multi-millionaire and the man I most want to kill in the world is sitting in the front row.
Session 140
My good friends Overcoat and Tatterdemalion sat right behind me and Annie, both of them not hiding the fact that their guns were pointed at our spines.
Hard to focus on bidding when you’re a finger pull away from an early grave.
Annie B didn’t help.
“They’re just Weres, nothing to worry about.”
“Guns. Back. Human,” I growled under my breath.
She patted my knee like I was a toddler. “All your boasting about how now you’re so much stronger than me and look at the fear rise up about something as non-threatening as a machinegun.”
There was nothing I could actively do to rectify the situation either.
I already had a pool. A significant one that would be ruining some werecoyotes soon enough, but the act of pooling would have given me a measure of working on the problem facing me.
Problem: Dozen guys with machineguns and Hector Vega grinning at me like the cat that caught the canary. Or the coyote that caught the cat.
Solution: N/A
I had to sit there as Doorman did his thing, as other people at the auction bought illicit fucking wonders. Nothing to do now. Just wait. Wait for the auction to end. Wait for a sign from Annie B. Wait for one of the bodies we were looking for to appear. Anything. Something. Just not waiting.
Never been a waiter.
Go get your own extra napkins, motherfucker.
The Foul Mouth and the Headless Hunny (The King Henry Tapes) Page 24