At least, until recently, when I caught Findlay skulking around, trying to catch me at it. If he could prove I was still practicing magic for Gray, the Trust would assume I was still working for Johnson in violation of my parole. In which case the stay of execution that I’d been given would cease.
Ashby glanced up at the brick building doubtfully as we exited the car. I rounded the vehicle and made a beeline for the door before he could do much more than sneer.
“You expect me to believe that you’re going to be able to purchase what you need to defeat two of the strongest practitioners in the world in this hovel?”
“Yep,” I drawled. “And I wouldn’t call it a hovel in front of Gray. He’s not a fan of your kind and I’m pretty sure he’ll turn your brains to slurry if you insult his place of business.”
Ashby’s mouth mashed into a thin line. “I can handle an arms merchant on my own, thank you. And I doubt you’d allow it to happen, regardless. I’m your contact with House Lamonia.”
I plastered on a grin and shouldered my way inside. The door was reinforced steel and a lot heavier than it looked from the outside. “I wasn’t hired to be your bodyguard, Ashby. I’m sure they’ll assign another vampire to liaise with me if you get yourself killed.”
That shut him up, thank God.
The door opened onto a small lobby. The red carpets were getting a little threadbare in places. A short man in a white button-down and black pants lounged by the ticket booth, his hand resting lazily on the butt of his pistol. His grip on it tightened when he spotted Ashby by my side.
“Natalia,” he greeted warily. “It’s been awhile. Who’s the stiff?”
“Ashby Lamonia. Lamonia, this is Benny Filch, Gray’s doorman. Relax, Benny. As much as I’d love for you to shoot him, he’s with me. Is Gray in? I need to stock up. I’ve got a mission to complete.”
I could see the gears turning behind Benny’s cool blue eyes. Benny wasn’t a mage, but he’d been around enough of us to know that something was very wrong with this picture. He never tore his eyes away from Ashby’s face, even as he answered me. Smart man.
“Yeah. Gray’s in. But be careful back there, Natalia. He’s not in a good mood. That Trust representative is back.”
Fear ran an icy finger down my spine and a hard lump formed in my throat. Damn it. I hesitated, shuffling like a nervous teen on the thin red carpet. As satisfying as it would be to wallop Findlay, it wasn’t wise. This job was supposed to be quick and dirty. I didn’t need the eyes of the Trust on me.
Ashby wrapped a hand around my forearm and began to tug me toward the back. I jerked my arm out of his grip on instinct.
“Don’t touch me.”
Ashby barely craned his neck to look at me. “We have a job to do. Don’t tell me you’re frightened of one little mage? If you’re going to balk so soon I think I ought to tell Algerone that you’re not the right person for the job. How can you possibly be expected to face down the enemy if you won’t deal with one little agent?”
He could bait me easier than a fish on a line. Half of my indignation came from the knowledge that he was right. I was sick and tired of crouching in my home in Queens, barely getting by because some bureaucratic blowhards had decided I wasn’t worthy enough to practice the magic I was good at. They broke my wand and took away my badge. They might as well have ripped off my right arm. I wasn’t sure who I was without either of them to keep me grounded.
I marched toward the back room, stiff-backed, and trying to ignore the decadent sound of Ashby’s chuckle behind me.
There were ten rows of seating on either side of a long narrow aisle leading up to the screen. I mounted the stairs onto the stage and strode for the heavy blue curtain that obscured the back rooms. Instead of a bustling stage crew waiting behind the drapes, there was a man leaning against the rigging, smoking a cigarette. His long brown hair was coiled in a tight braid and slung over one shoulder. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his low-ride pants hung loosely around his hips. Gray’s husband Kellan was nice to look at but even a glimpse of his chiseled torso couldn’t lift my spirits at the moment.
His gray eyes flicked up to meet mine and he smiled, pulling the cigarette away from his lips. He blew out a stream of smoke before he spoke.
“Oh, it seems like an eternity since we’ve seen you, Nat. How’s life?”
“Dismal. Where’s your husband, Kellan? I need to speak to him.”
“In the main room, talking to that rat-faced inspector. What was his name again? Fink? Or Frank?”
“Findlay?” I ventured.
“Yep. That’s the one.”
“We should come back another time.”
“Nonsense,” Ashby scoffed. “We can handle one puny mage. Come along, Miss Valdez. There is only so much time before dawn.”
When he seized my wrist this time I didn’t jerk it free. Ashby was right. I was wasting time. The sooner I was through with this little shopping spree, the sooner I could be done with this unpleasant task. Cat needed me. By my reckoning, I had about two more weeks of dealing with bloodsuckers before I could put this whole case to rest.
I’d insist on at least a week of surveillance when we reached the destination. Ashby had been tight-lipped on the details but from what little I’d been able to glean from his cryptic hints, I reasoned we were heading for someplace in the Gulf. Guatemala, Belize or even Cuba.
One week of surveillance, followed by the setup, and then the actual hit. My method had never failed me yet. It didn’t matter if the mark was human or not, everyone had habits. The members of the Five would be doing their level best to disrupt this girl’s patterns so it would be harder for the average sniper to predict her moves.
But the thing was, no one was truly unpredictable. And I’d gotten to know the Five very well over the years we’d worked together. They had habits too, and I intended to exploit them.
Gunmetal Gray’s shop was in the level just below the stage, in what would have once been the communal makeup and changing room. The mirrors that had once lined the walls had been replaced by corkboard. Brackets lined the wall, holding guns of all sizes, shapes, and calibers. Stands lined the room equidistantly and I saw a few of my models still up for sale.
Findlay was testing the weight of one of the guns I’d made for Anton Gray in his hand when we entered. It was one of my very early models and was a little unreliable as a result. That was probably why Anton still had it when so many of the other weapons I’d created during my time with the Trust were still in circulation.
He ejected the magazine from the Baretta with a practiced move and examined it with a frown.
“The enchantment is in the slide, if that’s what you’re looking for,” I drawled, leaning against the only gun-free space in the room. The light switch jabbed me painfully in the arm but I didn’t care. The look of surprise and momentary fear that crossed Findlay’s face when he spun toward me was worth the minimal discomfort. When we’d met in the Alps, he’d had the higher ground and some forewarning. Here, I was in my element. And he knew it.
Findlay brought the gun to bear, aiming it at my head. A bad decision, unless you were a trained sniper. The head was smaller and easy to miss than the center of mass, which guaranteed to fell your target and would probably hit something vital.
To my surprise, Ashby stepped in front of me so his body was half-blocking mine. A flash of irritation seized me before I could stop it. Logically I knew that his body could be riddled with slugs and he’d come away from it no worse than before once he’d ripped into somebody’s neck. The only surefire way to kill a vampire was to obliterate the heart or the brain stem.
Still, I wasn’t some helpless little girl. Findlay was half-blind and a dismal shot. I could draw on him and put a bullet between his eyes before his finger found the trigger, if it came to that. Findlay was only ever confident when he had something big and hairy at his back to do the hard work for him.
“You might want to
put the magazine back in if you’re planning to shoot me.”
“There’s still one in the chamber,” Findlay said, voice quivering as much as his hand.
“What are you here for, Findlay?” I asked, pushing away from the wall. He trailed me with the gun as I rounded the first gun stand. “Anton has probably told you a dozen times I haven’t been in here to buy anything since my expulsion from the Trust.”
“You’re here now,” he said. His eyes flicked almost unwillingly to Ashby, who hadn’t moved from the door. “And you’re with a vampire. And here I thought you couldn’t stoop any lower. Are you planning to become one of them now, Natalia?”
For a very gratifying second, I entertained the thought of wrapping my hands around his throat and squeezing until his face turned purple. I stayed the impulse to attack him and let my hands fall loosely to my sides. If I needed to go for the Sig, I wasn’t going to waste the few extra seconds it would take to uncross my arms.
Ashby glided forward with a genial smile and was by Findlay’s side before the little man could even process he’d moved. Findlay jerked and readjusted the Baretta to aim at the more pressing threat in front of him.
“Get away from me, leech.”
“I suggest you drop your weapon, wizard. We’re all civilized men and women here. I’m sure we can discuss whatever it is you came here for without the need for violence.”
Findlay blinked and swayed a little, eyes going slightly out of focus. I nearly groaned. He was the undersecretary to one of the Five. How the hell was he still susceptible to vampire wiles after all this time? I’d need to find a way to slip a tip to Sienna Vogel when I got the chance. Findlay’s lack of self-control was a weak spot the Trust couldn’t afford. I may not have liked any of the bastards sitting on the defense committee, but I knew that the world would devolve into chaos if the vampires somehow managed to infiltrate the Trust. I didn’t agree with the politics, but the Trust was the only thing keeping supernaturals and other demi-humans from destroying humanity.
I strode over and gave Ashby a shove. “Stop that.”
Findlay blinked once in surprise and his eyes refocused on me. It was a simple matter to remove the gun from his hand. I handed it back to Anton, who retrieved the magazine, slotted it into the Baretta and then stowed the gun beneath the counter.
“What’s he doing here?” I asked, glowering down at the little man.
“He’s been checking periodically to see if you’ve sold me anything new or if you’re refreshing the charms on the weaponry.”
“I haven’t,” I said shortly. “Get lost, Findlay.”
His jaw set and he returned my glower, watery eyes glittering with malice as he reached into his coat to retrieve his wand. “I have every right to be here, Natalia. And you were expressly forbidden to employ your magic in an offensive capacity ever again. If I find that you’re selling–”
“I’m here to get the parts for a handgun, Findlay. It’s my constitutional right to own one. I don’t need to enchant it for it to be deadly. The Trust doesn’t get to dictate how I defend my home.”
Findlay’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and his gaze bounced from my face to Ashby’s like he was watching an engaging game of basketball.
“That may be so, but that doesn’t explain why he’s here.”
In response, Ashby slung an arm around my waist, wedging me beneath his arm like a beloved pet. His scent swirled around me and, despite years of training, it still managed to make my mind go a little fuzzy. The vampire scent smelled different to everybody. Dominic had once told me that to him it smelled like petrichor, gunpowder, and the Hyacinth perfume I wore. It was designed to appeal to the senses of the intended victim.
To me, Ashby smelled like my mother’s incense, and my grandfather’s fat cigars.
The material of his frock coat rasped uncomfortably against me, but it was nothing to the way his skin felt against mine. Every nerve ending I had was trying to cringe away from the nothingness that lay beneath the frigid flesh.
“I am here to protect my sweet Natalia, of course,” he purred. He brushed my hair idly away from my neck and ducked in to press a kiss to the hollow beneath my ear.
I nearly killed him right then and there.
Instead, I reached behind my back and unholstered the gun strapped there, jamming it into his ribs beneath the frock coat. Findlay didn’t catch it, too busy imitating a dying fish to notice what I’d done. If Ashby so much as grazed me with his fangs I’d shoot him. The angle wasn’t ideal, but by God, I’d find a way.
“You have three seconds to step away before I turn your heart into pulp,” I murmured in an undertone so low that only Ashby’s keen hearing would be able to pick it up. Findlay would probably think I was whispering sweet nothings to him. Gah.
He smiled against my throat briefly before stepping back. His grip slackened enough that I could sidestep and get out of his range. I didn’t let go of the pistol. It took rigid control to keep from shuddering as his aura receded. I hadn’t felt that close to death since I’d found Catalina’s body two years ago.
I took a shaky step toward Anton, who was watching me with evident concern. His dark eyes were nearly black and most people found it hard to read the subtle changes on his long face. Only Kellan was more adept than me at reading the stoic man. The flinching around his eyes might as well have been a shout, in terms of his subtle shift in body language. He’d been genuinely concerned for me. That helped to thaw a little bit of the ice that had dropped into my stomach when Ashby had kissed me.
I wanted to go home and scrub myself raw until I couldn’t feel him on me any longer.
“So,” Anton said warily, glancing between me and Findlay, “what’ll it be?”
I swallowed back bile and jabbed a finger at the CZ 75 in the case.
“I need the usual number of those.”
Findlay recovered himself enough to withdraw a wand and point it at the pair of us. “You’re not buying that. Get out of this shop now, Natalia or I swear–”
Ashby leaned forward and snatched the spectacles right off Findlay’s face, giving him solid eye contact. When he spoke next his voice sounded like caramel layered on top of a chocolate cake. Smooth, delicious, and utterly sinful to listen to. Findlay’s eyes went out of focus and his hand slackened around his wand.
“You’re not going to do anything, Findlay,” he murmured. “You’re coming with me.”
Ashby fisted a hand in the front of Findlay’s shirt and pulled him toward the door. The man shuffled obediently after the vampire. I swiveled to watch them.
“Where are you taking him?”
“Outside. I don’t think Mr. Gray will appreciate it if I get blood on his floors.”
I slammed a fist down on the display case so hard the guns inside shifted a few inches. “No! You are not going to kill him, Lamonia.”
Ashby’s lips curled away from his fangs and he stared at Findlay with naked contempt. “He has made your life a misery. And he is certain turn you in if you do not silence him.”
“So be it. If you want my cooperation, you understand my cardinal rules. I don’t kill kids and I don’t end people who don’t have it coming.” At least, that was the story I needed to tell myself.
It didn’t matter that Findlay was a twat. It didn’t matter that he’d harassed me for two years. Besides attacking me in his apartment, when he thought I’d killed his fiancé, as far as I knew he’d never hurt anyone. He’d been a royal pain to a lot of them, but he didn’t kill or maim. He could be an asshole all he wanted, it didn’t mean he deserved to die.
“But you will kill a young woman for money? Do as I say, not as I do, is it? It isn’t any wonder that the Trust saw fit to release you from service. You would make an excellent vampire.”
Ashby didn’t just hit a nerve. He sucker-punched it so hard it went sailing through a wall. I drew the pistol and leveled it at Ashby’s head. “Let him go, or I’m going to rearrange th
e inside of your skull.”
Ashby let the material of Findlay’s shirt slide through his fingers and he stepped away slowly. The arrogant satisfaction didn’t drain away from his face, though. He reached into the interior of his coat, not even flinching when I cocked the hammer back and took aim.
He withdrew a slip of paper and flicked it at me. My free hand shot out to snatch the scrap before it could flutter to the ground. It was a check and even a cursory glance at the amount on it kicked my pulse into a higher gear. It had been many years since I’d been paid this much.
“Your stipend. Keep the change,” he said easily, turning on his heel. “There will be much more than that when you finally settle things with Algerone, Miss Valdez. Keep that in mind. You may use what is left to settle your debts at Fallen Oak. We will be waiting at Chateau Lamonia at precisely eleven o’clock on Sunday evening. Formal dress is required to meet with Algerone.”
His gaze swept over me once and he gave me a glittering smile. His hand shot out and wrapped around Findlay’s neck, squeezing until the man slumped unconscious at his feet. His gaze never left my face.
“I think you would look fetching in red.”
“What makes you think I won’t take your money and be done with this business?” I asked, barely keeping the hope from creeping into my voice. Vampires had no souls. They wouldn’t think twice about lying to me.
“Because only we can give you answers about what ails your sister,” he said smoothly. “And the cure.” Then he swept out of the room, leaving the scent of incense in my nose and the bitter taste of bile in my mouth.
I couldn’t prove that he was lying about the cure. The introductory material hadn’t been terribly illuminating. The vampires had every reason to trick me and none at all to help me. But Declan had confirmed what they’d said about Eleanor Dawson. And if some of it was true, all of it could be. Did I really have any choice but to do what they asked? If there was even a chance to help Cat, I had to take it.
Infernal Assassin- Vampire Killer Page 9