Every muscle in my body tensed. Malcolm had gone, alone, to deal with a vampire who was stronger than he appeared. His “taking care of things” suddenly sounded a lot like a suicide mission.
“And he called me rash,” I muttered, my chest constricting. The light from Soraya’s eyes warmed the hallway. I rubbed the heel of my palm against my forehead. “Yeah, Vorster’s here. That was his limo I jumped out of. He stole a stash of these drugs you guys have been hunting. And Mal just got a note from him.”
Soraya was Malcolm’s right hand, accompanying him to the big meetings, assigned to watch me—and the remains of my headache gave me a pretty good idea of how much he wanted me kept safe. For him not to have told her, he wouldn’t have wanted her to face Vorster. There were a few plausible reasons for that, but the look on her face—queasy guilt—pointed toward one in particular.
“He still wants the falcon of Medhane Alem,” Terrance said, placing his hand on Soraya’s shoulder. My brain tried to form the words into Millennium Falcon again, but this time heard the difference. Soraya shrugged the hand off and straightened. So Vorster wasn’t looking for a spaceship. He just couldn’t pronounce foreign words. Absurdly, that made me feel a little better.
Soraya marched past the males. “You will need to show me exactly where Vorster picked you up, and the route you took. I can track him. I pray we have enough time.” The last was barely more than a whisper.
“Wait, woman,” the doorman growled. Oh, I so did not like him.
Soraya stopped, fists clenched on her hips. She didn’t seem very fond of him either. “What, Eladio?”
He pointed at me. “Use her as bait. If Vorster wants her, he will find her more easily than we can find him.”
Soraya stalked toward him, discreetly pushing me behind her, and said in a low voice, “She is not to be put in danger or used…not in any way. Besides, there is no point in trying to lure Hendrik Vorster out, not when Malcolm has gone to him.”
Eladio’s square jaw tightened. One of the vamps behind him murmured something and Soraya’s power flared. Eladio pressed forward. Anton grabbed his arm and held on impressively while the sucker tried to shake him off. I pressed myself against the wall, buffeted by their aggression.
“If the human is useless, then she should be removed from here,” Eladio growled. Still trying to throw me out. Soraya laughed tightly.
“If you wish to dispose of his corazon, then be my guest.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hall. I had enough sense not to glance back, even though I was pretty sure bafflement looked funnier with fangs.
“Is Vorster stronger than Malcolm?” I whispered.
“He won’t be alone. Malcolm will.”
I shook her hand off and we both stopped. “Would he be stronger, if it was one-on-one?”
“Once, yes. But he has not progressed much since Malcolm parted with him, whereas Malcolm has been tested and become more powerful.” She ran her tongue back and forth between her fangs. “Still, we must find him.”
“Vorster enthralled a runner. Would this be easier if we had her?”
Her eyes narrowed until she looked every bit the predator. I had a feeling the title “falcon” hadn’t been given to her because of an ability to fly.
“Oh, yes.”
Chapter Fifteen
I yanked the e-brake, and the little Honda Soraya had procured from a bartender slid sideways, rocking to a stop inches from the door of bay two. If Tilde wanted to cut and run, she’d have to do it on foot. I gazed up as I got out of the car. Somewhere above or around me, the vampiress waited.
Apparently she’d been a tracker for a nomadic tribe, so sensitive to the environment that she could intuit the location of her prey from great distances. That was probably a big deal in northern Africa, where a false trail could end in death by exposure or starvation. Before she silenced him, Terrance had explained that Soraya married some kind of desert prince who changed her, crowed about her talents and then went stark raving mad. After he buried her, her legend had grown and spread. Since vampires couldn’t use electronic surveillance and didn’t trust humans to perform that sort of work for them, the vampire equivalent of a sight hound would be valuable. Bronson had certainly thought so.
The five sides of beef in suits were also Malcolm’s, picked up during his travels. I couldn’t tell if they were just friends or also vassals, and it didn’t seem like the sort of thing you asked befanged strangers. I wasn’t surprised to hear that Mal had a side game going in every city where he worked for Bronson, and that he’d actually won one of them in a gamble. They’d introduced themselves, one at a time. Anton hadn’t quite hidden his irritation at having been misled earlier about my relationship with Mal, and was now being excessively polite. Terrance seemed pleased. I could see hints of good humor in all but Eladio, who was a fairly red shade of poker face. Either he hated humans, or he had a secret crush on my guy. My absent, heroic, amazingly stupid guy.
I buzzed the office and waited, wondering what Carla was saying about me on the other side of the wall. Probably lamenting what a bad investment I was. The door clicked and I pushed through, muttering an invitation to Soraya. She said it would work while I was inside, and we were just here for Tilde, but my stomach tightened anyway. I hated compromising the shop, but I had no idea what Tilde was doing, what she was capable of doing.
The scent of the garage was comforting—oil and exhaust fumes. My boss faced me, arms crossed, with Tilde just behind her. The Swede didn’t look up when I entered, busy arranging her deliveries. Jace’s car was gone and Mickey was underneath the Peugeot, no doubt seeking the cause of some nonexistent problem Tilde had made up as a stall tactic. What would she have done if I hadn’t come straightaway? Put a knife to one of the women’s throats?
“I thought you weren’t well enough to come out tonight.” Carla examined her nails, her voice carefully neutral.
“And I thought I told you to take her pants off,” I snapped. Tilde’s hands stilled, but she kept her head down.
Mickey slid out from under the car on a rolling tray and beamed from beneath her safety glasses. “Aerin!” Her nose scrunched up. “What are you wearing?” I’d had to borrow clothes from a human at the club. The shirt was a very tight magenta V-neck and the black pants had adhered themselves to my ass like denim tentacles.
“Hey, Mick.” I kept my eyes on Tilde’s bright blond head.
“I will not stand for trouble between you two,” Carla said, hands on ample hips. “Aerin, if you do not have a release—”
“How long has he had you?” I asked. Tilde moved toward me, cramming envelopes into her bag. As if she were just headed out for the night. “Does it seem odd, Carla, that she’s still in the garage this late?” My boss glanced back and forth between us, her face puckering with doubt.
“It has been my pleasure to serve my master these last four nights.” Tilde raised her head as she spoke, breathless, like she was in high school and ohmygodBradPitt just asked her to prom.
She looked better than when I’d last seen her, but her eyes were fever bright and her lips were peeling. Hendrik Vorster had gotten to her before we went out for drinks to celebrate my success, or just after. My money was on before. He’d realized she wasn’t the one he needed and sent her back to troll me for information. I swallowed hard. Maybe she could have been saved if we’d intervened that night.
“You have to come with me,” she said flatly, swaying as she stopped beside Carla. She glanced sidelong at my boss and my instincts sharpened. Vorster would have given her instructions. If I didn’t come willingly, she’d do something drastic. I didn’t want to deal with drastic. At my feet, Mickey sat up on the tray, resting her elbows on her knees.
“If,” I said, raising a finger, “you leave Carla and Mickey alone, I will go with you. But only if you don’t hurt them.” And bonus points for not hurting me.
“What’s going on here?” Carla asked, taking a few quick steps toward the office. I glanced at her, a
nd froze when I looked back at Tilde. Her hands shook, causing the narrow barrel of the Luger she’d pointed at me to jump.
I kicked Mickey’s tray, sending her spinning toward the office. She scrambled off and Carla slammed the door, locking them in the other room.
“He didn’t want them anyway.” Tilde panted, her face flushed from exertion—or fake exertion—and exaltation.
“Played by a broken Swede. I’ve reached a new low.” I was amazed I had enough saliva left in my mouth to speak.
“Go. Out the front to your car. Tell them to open the door for us.”
I turned, the muscles of my back so tight they ached. Mickey and Carla weren’t visible through the thick window. I licked my lips, moving as slow as I dared. Any time now, Soraya.
“Why do you think he wants me?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve done well for him. I’ve earned my reward.”
“Yeah, the gift that keeps on giving. Did it ever occur to you that he wants me to replace you, Tilde?”
“You do not know hi—” The word ended in a choked gurgle.
I turned, blinking rapidly. Soraya held the gun in one hand. Her other arm was tight around Tilde’s throat. The girl’s toes scraped and scrabbled against the floor.
“Put her down,” I mumbled, adrenaline coursing through me. “She’s not going to want to talk. How do you question a thrall?”
“Like this.” Her fangs descended halfway. “Turn away.”
“Why?”
I jumped when Soraya dropped her head and bit the girl. Behind me, Carla’s scream burbled through the wall. Soraya released Tilde and I leaped forward to catch her as she crumpled, her eyes rolling back in her head.
“What the fuck! That was not part of the deal.” I pressed my hand against Tilde’s neck. The punctures were clean and not very deep, but those fangs were fucking big. Mickey landed on her knees by my side and tore open a blue first-aid kit. She muttered to herself and kept her eyes on Soraya as she handed me antibacterial spray and gauze. The vampire leaned against Tilde’s car, crossed her arms and closed her eyes.
I cleaned the wound, which was disturbingly easy because the girl was barely bleeding, smothered it in absorbent pads and wrapped her neck in gauze.
“It’s like we just put her head back on,” Mickey muttered. She turned to me, her eyes wide. “Did you notice there is a vampire in the room, or is that just me?”
“Not just you. Help me with her.” We carried Tilde to Jace’s love seat while Carla watched. My boss not only hadn’t come in, she’d actually locked the door after Mickey came back into the garage. That wouldn’t keep Soraya out, but if she had been a threat, Mickey and I would have been toast. Then again, I wasn’t sure the vampiress wasn’t a threat.
I marched toward Soraya, hating the free-floating fear in my stomach. She hadn’t hesitated, had simply driven her teeth into Tilde. She could do the same to me before I had time to react. But, shit, some things just weren’t acceptable.
“What in the ever-loving hell, Soraya?”
She opened her eyes, splashing me with dull orange light, and shrugged. “I broke his hold. We need to move.”
“Now you’ve enthralled her?”
“God, no. But Vorster is no longer controlling her. Wake her and make her direct us to his nest.”
“How do I do that?” Now I was breathless, frantic and disgusted. First the feeder exhibition room, then Malcolm running off alone, now this vicious bite. My mind was revving perilously close to its redline.
“Think of something. You don’t have to be clever, just quick.” Soraya leaned forward over her folded arms, her fangs still visible. “If I have to do it, I will kill her, and I don’t think you want that.”
“What I want,” I barely managed to keep from yelling, “is for you to calm the fuck down.” Soraya craned her head back, then nodded. Her eyes slid closed. I stomped back to the couch. Tilde stared at me with wide, wet eyes. She shook her head, tears flying as she sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop him. I tried—”
“We can talk about all this later. I’m on a clock right now. Where’s Vorster?” More tears. I felt like shit, but I didn’t have time to take confession. Malcolm had been gone for over an hour. Alone. I pointed at Soraya. “She wants to kill you right now, so pull yourself together. You’re a professional. You knew the risks. I’m missing someone dear to me and I need to find him. Where is Vorster?”
My voice cracked at the end and Mickey grabbed my hand. I swallowed a hard lump before twisting free. Tilde collected herself, fighting against what must have been overwhelming horror and shame. I let my eyes unfocus so I didn’t have to see her working through it, tried instead to conjure Malcolm’s face. He smiled at me out of my memory, all warmth and real humor.
“He is on the w-west side. I don’t know the streets, but I can sh-show you.”
I blinked and refocused. “Mickey, can you come with us? I need you to keep her conscious while I drive. Please.” The mechanic nodded, shedding her safety glasses and coveralls. I punched the button to open the bay door and turned to Soraya. “You can’t ride in the car. It’ll die.”
“I will be able to follow,” she said, her lip curling. She could follow because of the taste she’d taken. I grimaced. “When you find the place, keep your distance. Do not go inside, and be prepared to retreat the moment we arrive.” Retreat? Not until I’d seen Malcolm whole, or at least still able to move.
“You cannot go,” Carla said from the office doorway. “I need to report this. Report her. I need compensation for this mess.” She gestured with a can of pepper spray at Tilde while clenching the neck of her blouse with the other hand.
I rubbed my eyes. “You can wait an hour to call the police and claim courier corruption.”
“I need to report this,” she muttered.
“I don’t think you heard me.” I closed the distance between us. “She’s the only one who can help me find my friend, and I don’t have a hell of a lot of time.” Mickey eased Tilde into the car, soothing her as the girl moaned. Anger rose within me as I watched the girl, gaunt and unsteady, because there but for the grace of God went I. And Carla was dicking us around over a damn formality.
Maybe Tilde had shown weakness, but more likely Vorster had simply decided to take her and there hadn’t been a damn thing she could do about it. Malcolm had hit me with influence beyond what I’d felt from a master vampire, and it was almost beyond my ability to resist. Tilde ran with no protection but a series of laws written by humans. And they’d failed to protect her.
She’d be put in a care facility somewhere around the middle of the world and spend the rest of her miserable life crying for another bite. And Carla would pocket the equivalent of fifty thousand dollars and go hire another girl, maybe to lose her the same way. She didn’t look like she much cared, so long as she got paid.
“You made your profit on her a few nights ago. Didn’t even send someone to check on her when she didn’t show. You can wait a fucking hour to write her off in your books.” I turned away, almost stopped when she said, her voice rising, “You’ll never work in this city again. None of you. You’ll never work anywhere. Caught consorting. Despreciable!” She spit on the floor.
“You ever call yourself a runner again,” I murmured, anger painting my vision red, “I will come back here and break that sweet face you financed with our efforts. Got it?” Soraya’s gaze followed me out of the garage. I started the car and adjusted the rearview mirror. Tilde, small and pale, leaned against Mickey’s shoulder. I turned the wheel and stomped on the accelerator. They had good therapists in those facilities, drugs for those who needed more. Arts and crafts, fresh air and all that wholesome shit.
“I’m sure we can talk her out of putting you on the blacklist,” Mickey said.
“Doubt it. Doesn’t matter, I don’t want to work for someone who sees us as dollar signs. Doing that to your own kind is worse than how the suckers see us.” God, I hadn’t known how good I had it in A
laska, in an outfit managed by former runners and then McHenry, who believed we could still be decent people despite our jobs.
“Take the Costanera Norte,” Tilde murmured. I made two quick turns and hit the on-ramp at sixty. The TAG on the windshield chirruped as we passed beneath a reading frame. I’d have to remember to pay the bartender for the tolls, and commend him for taking excellent care of his car. The Civic handled like a dream. A tiny dream with an inline four that had delusions of grandeur.
“So,” Mickey said. “I could not help but notice that a vampire was helping you. Unless this is one of those dreams where I think everything is real until I start flying and can understand bird songs, and then I am sad because I know I will lose that when I wake up. Except nobody ever gets bitten or enthralled in those. The man who is missing, is he…”
“He is the kind of man who would do anything to keep me safe.” My voice grew rough.
I could have found something else to do here. I didn’t have to work. I could have allowed myself to be pampered, shuttled between opulent homes by his people. Out of sight and safe. Vorster would never have found me. Or I could have gone anywhere else in the world, and done whatever I wanted. Anything other than running. I could have stayed out of trouble. I glanced in the rearview mirror. That might have kept others out of trouble.
Neither option sounded good. I would have been bored to death in the one and ended up doing something stupid. I wouldn’t have had Malcolm in the other. If I had him now. He was so preoccupied with protecting me that I couldn’t be much more than a burden to him. He had responsibilities in a territory that was far more fucked-up that I’d realized, and what appeared to be a stable of misfit toys he already took care of. Maybe I was just another stray, picked up like an impulse buy at the grocery store.
“That sounds like a good man,” Mickey said. I glanced at her in the mirror, then changed lanes in the thinning traffic.
“Does it? I’m not an expert.”
“Do not take this the wrong way, but you are old.”
Running in the Dark Page 15