T-Bone blushed despite his dark complexion. “It’s just nice knowing that you want to,” he whispered.
I faked chambering a round in a shotgun and blew my head off.
“Not my fault the woman I slept with is actually nice and wonderful,” T-Bone complained.
Still smiling, Vicky turned to me. “What did you do?”
“You know what I did. It’s what I always do . . .”
“You promised it wasn’t with Veronica,” she hissed angrily.
“It wasn’t. Just drop it, Vick. I’ll explain later. Tyson trusts me on this one, so play it cool.”
T-Bone shook his head slowly. “I’m not sure I’d characterize anything I’m feeling as trust so much as panic and a lack of decent options short of calling in an ESLED strike team.”
Vicky poked me with a finger in the chest. “If you hurt Brother again, I’ll . . . I don’t know, but it might involve naked pictures of Tyson and me in compromising positions.”
T-Bone wasn’t exactly in on this plan. “That’s a really bad idea with how insecure cloud security—”
Vicky pointed the finger towards him and his mouth shut. It swung back to poke into my chest with each word. “Explain! Yourself! Now!”
I glanced across the way at Welf and Veronica. She’d pulled away from him long enough to cheer some corpusmancer weightlifting competition. Welf shook his head, trying to clear out cobwebs. He noticed me watching and oh so not smoothly placed his hands on Veronica’s hips with a superior smirk.
“What are the three of you conspiring about?” he asked us. “You’re safe here with me and my Construct, Price. When did you become such a wimp? They’re just Weres. All they do is growl, never bite.”
One day I’ll let you die, I thought. I’ll be so tired of your douchebag, patrician, upper crust bullshit that I’ll just step on back and watch you get yourself killed. Might even laugh when it happens. Could even tape it and put it on YouTube.
“You still haven’t gotten me that drink!” Isabel ordered my way, expression slightly dangerous. She studied Vicky and Tyson, raising an eyebrow. Her hand tightened around Welf’s neck, so slight a movement that you had to be watching for it.
“If you let me up then I can get one for you,” Welf told her.
“No, you stay right where you are, sweetie. We’re letting King Henry have our protection, aren’t we? Then why shouldn’t he have to pay a fee by being our waiter?” she asked with a giggle.
Vicky eyed them, then me. “If you don’t—”
“Not here.”
Instead, I went over to the bar and mixed a quick rum and coke. I delivered it to Veronica. Who took it from my hands and sipped, before placing it on a tablet. “Not bad this way, is it?” she asked, stolen eyes alight with threat. “Everyone’s getting what they want. No one’s getting themselves hurt.”
Outside the window, some corpusmancer lifted a car. The crowd cheered.
“Except for me,” I said.
She shifted in Welf’s arms, still playing the party girl. Her hand massaged the back of Welf’s neck, the other at her waist near her golden belt. “Seems like it’s all in your bad attitude. All you have to do to be happy is to laugh and forget and to enjoy those in your company. Isn’t that right, sweetie?”
Welf nodded. “I don’t think Welfs are allowed to be happy, but it sounds about right.”
They wiggled noses against each other.
“I’m taking a walk,” I announced. “Stay safe everyone.”
[CLICK]
I expected T-Bone to follow after me, but it was Vicky.
I expected her to yell at me.
I would have yelled at me.
Yelled at Ceinwyn for less of a bag of lies, didn’t I?
But no, in typical Vicky Welf fashion she threw her arms around me in a hug. “I’m worried about you,” she told me.
“People will talk,” I said just to say something, but the quip didn’t have much heart in it.
She let go of me, leaning against the back wall of the hallway of private box doors, one massive security contraption after another all the way down, as far as you could see. Ouroboros staff in their black and gold uniforms scuttled around us, back and forth. No guards in sight, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t about.
Vicky nodded at the Welf box door. “This time I actually conveniently have another man to point towards to deflect such gossip, don’t I?”
“Will you be pointing at him in the future or are you just using him for your needs?”
She barked a laugh. “Did you just call me a hussy?”
What’s a hussy? I deflected it all with another joke. Like usual. “Nah, just saying that if you break his heart I’ll have to kick your ass.”
“Did you tell him the same thing about me?” she asked with a bright smile. She looked very adult in that dress. Not as adult as she’d been naked, but . . . rocker chick artist wasn’t in sight. Her earrings and nose-stud gave you a hint at something more, but this was very much a Lady Welf look. Not sure if I liked her this way, but it was adult. The civilized kind of adult.
“Of course I did,” I told her. “I’ll always protect ya, Vick, and that way I get to kick double the ass.”
She got a faraway expression. Not hard to imagine its source. “I like Tyson quite a lot. He’s very kind and sensitive and . . . are you retching?”
“No, no, go on.”
“He’s a nice guy,” she finished. “I sort of live in Connecticut and travel all over for the portraits though . . . so . . . dating outside of this week seems like it would be difficult to manage.”
“Heard that reasoning before, Vick. Might be reasonable, but it sucks quite a lot to be on the side that has to accept it.”
This apparently required me to get another hug and a, “I’m sorry about you and Valentine.”
“Wish people would stop saying that,” I grumbled, making her let go of me. “Getting real sick of all this sympathy shit.”
“Okay . . . would you rather that I yell at you some then?”
“What I expected out of you.”
She hugged me again, laughing in my ear. “Surprise hug!”
“Stop it, you hussy!”
She giggled at me. A lot less fake than Veronica’s had been.
Veronica . . . shit, how the hell am I going to do this? Stupid T-Bone couldn’t keep his mouth shut for five seconds.
Vicky slid back against the wall, motioned to the door with her head again. “Ready to tell me what’s going on between you and Veronica?”
“No.”
“You would tell Valentine,” Vicky pointed out.
“Yeah.”
“And you told Tyson?”
“Yeah.”
And that’s why you told him.
Deep down you knew you should. You’re tired of all the lying. You ain’t a spy. Not like Eva. You might stand in defiance of the social order, but you like clear lines in where you’re standing. This lying shit? This being a hypocrite shit? Got to stop. Might as well start with Vicky Welf. You ain’t gonna find a more sympathetic ear or a softer shoulder to cry on.
“But not me?” she asked.
I studied her. Vicky Welf. Innocent, bright, adorable, friendly Vicky Welf. All grown up. Very grown up. Only a little over a year younger than me, but that had felt like a big year when we were at the Asylum. Now . . .
Could she protect herself?
She was a spectromancer Ultra, a Beaconkeeper they call themselves, a Welf, talented as shit, of course she could protect herself. At the very least make herself invisible. Even if Eva don’t like the way she’d go about it. “I got a lot of secrets I’m keeping, Vick. Part of me feels like I start talking about this one aloud instead of handling it silently that the rest just might start coming out my mouth. That might be bad for the both of us.”
Bright blue eyes found my dirty ass and didn’t look away. “Or it could be good for us . . . as long as the secret isn’t that you lied to me and actually sle
pt with my brother’s girlfriend . . . then, I will have to kick you in the balls.”
Heh. Not Veronica Lee. Girlfriend. Which was technically Isabel Soto. Who I had slept with. Now the way she phrased the question trapped me in. Well . . . shit.
“King Henry! You promised! I believed you!”
“You know what a Maximus is?” I deflected with a question instead of a joke this time.
Her lips shut for a bit, clammed up if you will. “Where did you hear that term?” she finally asked
“Tyson and me spied on the Los Angeles Vampire Embassy a few months back—yeah, I know, pretty stupid—but one of them called me that when we were listening in. I asked Ceinwyn about it in London, but . . . that’s part of why we ain’t talking anymore. She knows what it is, knows so damn much, but she won’t tell me. Maybe me knowing would fix the problems, maybe it would make it worse. But it just pisses me off that a rule is so important to her. It’s a rule made up a hundred years ago. So why it matter?
“Now here I am doing the same thing to you. Only it ain’t over a rule. It’s over keeping you out of harm’s way. Even though I know you can handle yourself, I’m worried . . . worried if I can handle what I’m facing, much less you or Pocket or . . . whole bunch more people than I want to admit I care about. Makes me maybe think it’s not about the rule for Ceinwyn either.”
“Does that mean you understand why she’s doing it and maybe—”
“Don’t push your luck. Never said I’m reasonable.”
“Okay, okay.”
“So . . . you’re Old Mancy, right? Supposed to be in on all the secrets. Have the secret handshake and the passcodes in your genes. Give them to me. Regale me with stories of the even more powerful uses of the Mancy. Tell me about what a Maximus is. Or, hey, do ya want to talk about dragons? We can talk about dragons if you want. Or vampires. Or other worlds and realms and maybe even people with darker skin than your boyfriend. Which is it, Vick?”
The both of us leaned against opposite walls, studying each other.
A waiter with a tray of lobster tails and shrimp cocktails passed between us.
“You’re a Maximus?” she asked like it was a big deal.
“So you know the term?”
“Not exactly,” she barked. “It’s not what you think, King Henry, they don’t give us a book to read. They just . . . have us around all the time since we’re their children. We hear the whispers. Jokes sometimes or bedtime stories or . . . ghost stories. Then we put two and two together as best we can. Other than that we’re just the same as you are: very out of the loop.”
“And what’s two plus two?”
“I don’t know what exactly a Maximus is or what it means, but I know a few people who are supposed to be one. And . . . that you are very much not to talk about it. Verboten.”
“Going to tell me who?”
She glanced away. “I shouldn’t.”
“If you tell me then I might have a change of heart and decide to reconnect with Ceinwyn,” I pointed out.
She rolled her eyes at it, my biggest lie yet. But still, she whispered, “My mother. Ceinwyn. The Lady. Fines Samson. Usually they’re very old . . . I think. I don’t . . . some people talk about becoming it, others about it just being something you are, it’s all horribly meshed in rumor. I really wouldn’t take me as an accurate source, King Henry.”
“And don’t talk about it,” I repeated. “Sounds about right.” My curiosity got the better of me like always. “Know anything about split pooling or extended pooling?”
“Oh, that too?”
“Another part of the fight.”
“I don’t,” Vicky said with a little heat. “I’m a woman after all.”
“What’s that mean?”
“As you’ve probably figured out, mancers are not allowed to learn it until we are thirty-three. Like the requirement of needing to be thirty years old to run for the United States Senate is the analogy my father came up with.”
“That sounds familiar.”
“Only, there’s a loophole. A ‘just in case.’ Every mancer family chronicled at least five generations may teach these restricted talents to their male heir.” I must have scowled, since she nodded. “Yes . . . Brother is learning them from Mother, amongst other Bonegrinder skills.”
“That’s bullshit,” I said eventually.
“I agree, but I also didn’t tell them I would never talk to them again when I found out about it.”
“You’re pushing it again, Vick.”
“I’d tell you everything I know if it would help you, King Henry.”
“Guilt. Guilt. Stab. Heart.”
She made a frustrated face. “Too obvious?”
Yes it was . . . but maybe she’s right. Maybe I need to get some of the lies off my chest. Val ain’t around to tell them to anymore. Maybe that’s part of what I’ve been fearing so much this last week. Being alone with all the secrets. Bad enough before, but now . . .
Didn’t have the adults to help. No Ceinwyn Dale.
Didn’t have the girlfriend to help anymore. No Valentine Ward.
Why not friends?
Live together, die alone? Ain’t that the bullshit saying?
I’d been dying slowly the last week, but I’d been dying.
“You have to promise me that when I say what I’m about to say, that you ain’t gonna run in the box and attack her alone. She’s pretty much holding your brother hostage at the moment. Don’t know what her game is, since there’s no out. Making me worried. Making me suspicious more is afoot, if you will. That’s why we been watching. That and she kicked my ass pretty convincingly last night, so there ain’t gonna be any third chances.”
Vicky misunderstood and glared at me like I’d transformed into the scum of the Earth right in front of her eyes. “You told me you didn’t sleep with Veronica last night!”
“I didn’t.”
“Fuck her then, King Henry, don’t start playing word games—”
“I didn’t sleep or fuck or do ungodly things to Veronica Lee,” I corrected her assumptions. “See . . . that ain’t Veronica Lee in there.”
“What?” Vicky whispered, bright blue eyes wide.
I put a hand on her shoulder.
“Now you’re freaking me out!” she said shakily.
I put my other hand on the opposite shoulder to steady her, met her gaze. “That’s Isabel Soto. She broke out of the Pit a few months ago, had it from her own lips, saw her do a quick shift and back that Veronica Lee could never manage. Plus, she beat me down and tied me up. Now . . . she’s spying on your brother for some reason and I think she means to hang on him like a tick with a wrinkly ballsack.”
Vicky’s face went as white as paper. “That’s impossible.”
“Thing is . . . can’t squeeze her off. Got to burn her off, right? I been waiting for an opening since we arrived, but she’s right on top of your brother and even if I did rush her . . . well, Welf will Welf.”
Vicky’s hand had gone to her mouth. She shook hard despite my support. “This is impossible!”
“You get used to it . . . I hope.”
“No . . . no . . . we can’t . . . no more waiting,” Vicky whispered in horror. “She’s . . . oh Brother, how will you feel when you find out?”
“You get used to that one too. Know that one from experience.”
“You . . . you knew just from the way she had sex?”
I nodded. “Hard to fake the involuntary ways your body reacts, even for her.”
“We can’t let her stay next to Brother like she is! I can’t do that!”
“That’s why I didn’t want to tell ya. Watching is the smart option.”
“Fuck the smart option!” Vicky yelled at me.
My jaw dropped a little. Did I just hear that right? “You actually giving the go ahead to do the stupid thing I really want to do but convinced myself you wouldn’t want to do?”
Vicky nodded fiercely. “Yes, exactly that!”
“See
, this is why you shouldn’t keep secrets.”
“Enough worrying about all that for now,” Vicky announced. “We burn her off.”
Too bad we don’t have a pyromancer.
“I’m blinding her, that’s what I’m doing. Then you do whatever it is you do, King Henry.”
But a spectromancer and a geomancer might just be enough.
Not that you should ever try to remove a tick from your wrinkly balls with sandpaper and laserbeams.
[CLICK]
I went in first, not aggressive but normal like.
Went right back to my seat like a good little boy.
Vicky decided if we came in together that it would put Isabel on edge. See, she thinks of shit like that, that’s why she’s the smart one. The smart one that’s letting me do the stupid thing . . . it all evens out, don’t it?
Isabel was nervous as I walked on by her. Over towards T-Bone on the other side of the luxury box I went. Good. Little. Boy. Not planning on kicking your ass at all Soto Crazy. What’s that? Ceinwyn don’t like it when I call you that? What’s that? You’re not crazy? Ain’t a crazy representing the Crazy? All evidence to the fuckin’ contrary.
At some point in my absence, Welf had finally pushed Isabel off of his lap. Guess he had some decorum that even a hot ass couldn’t tempt. Not much of a survival instinct though, since she still held one of his hands.
Awww.
Young love.
So adorable.
Welf would be washing his mouth out with soap and his cock off with bleach in about fifteen minutes, but ya know . . . young love.
“I miss anything good?” I asked the box. “Beside the fact that Welf realized he was making out in front of his little sister and should stop before he upgrades his cable package to getting dry humped in front of his little sister.”
Welf and Veronica both scowled at me. Still . . . that did it. Pushed the right button. Been pushing Heinrich Welf’s buttons for years, give me the go ahead and I can manipulate the bastard into just about anything. Downloaded all the last few minutes right into his smug mind, made him realize how he’d just been acting in front of Vicky. What an unthinkable breech of etiquette! I shall have to force my Construct to whip my ballsack with a braided leather lash as punishment . . . but before my butler powders my buttocks with talcum powder, of course! Can’t retire for the night with a sore ballsack and a sweaty buttocks!
The Foul Mouth and the Mancy Martial Artist (The King Henry Tapes Book 5) Page 28