by Jess Haines
“Arnold,” the guy said, a smile slowly curving his thin lips, “haven’t seen you around here in a long time. How are you, man?”
“Could be better.” The mage smiled back, though it was a grim, cheerless thing. He reached over the counter to shake the guy’s hand, tilting his head toward me. “Jack, this is a friend of mine. She needs some extermination equipment.”
Jack came out from behind the counter, leaving the paperback behind and extending a hand in greeting. When we shook, I had to make an effort not to withdraw immediately, as his hands were dry and calloused, sandpaper rough. His gaze was as empty as his smile, but he led the way without comment over to the portion of the wall I’d been admiring from afar. I was shocked-but-not to see there was also a decent selection of cutlery on display in a glass case below the more mundane stakes and holy waters.
“We need some body armor and some decent cover-up. What do you have in her size?”
Jack looked me up and down, his gaze and expression reminding me of someone looking over fruit in the grocery store for bad spots. It wasn’t pleasant being under his scrutiny, but I stood there and took it and inwardly vowed to get back at Arnold for putting me in this position.
“Well, we don’t have much on short notice. I might be able to trim something down, but I need to know what kind of weapons she’ll be using so I can work with it.”
“Stakes,” I said sourly, figuring I could do some of this myself.
“What else?”
I must have looked blank, because he turned to Arnold after a couple of seconds and raised a brow, his expression hinting that I’d said something rude or stupid.
Arnold shrugged and turned to me. “What weapons do you know how to use? Guns? Knives?”
Irritated, I gestured at the rows of guns on the walls. “Do I look like the kind of girl who carries hardware like that in her purse? I don’t use this stuff, Arnold. The most I’ve ever done was pop a few shots in a shooting range with my dad when I was a teenager.”
Jack grinned at that, his expression finally betraying some amusement. “A novice? Interesting choice of hunter, Arnold.”
We both shot him a look that had him holding up his hands and backing down, still amused despite our glares.
“Take a look around and see what catches your eye. I’m going to see what we have in the back in the way of body armor.”
Once he stepped away, disappearing through a curtained alcove, I put my hands on my hips and turned to look at Arnold. “This was not what I thought you had in mind when you said we were going shopping.”
His look was all too calm, even bland. “Where did you think we were going to go? The mall?”
“I don’t know. I thought whatever it was would at least be street legal.”
He shrugged, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture. “Not much help for it, I’m afraid. There isn’t enough time or any kind of easy way for me to take anything else from the vaults. It’s either this or go somewhere that will broadcast your presence to every side that’s looking for you right now, including any tail Royce put on you. Or go in with no protection at all.”
I muttered darkly at the injustice, but chose to keep most of my thoughts to myself. I picked up a set of bolts, read the hand-lettered label that proclaimed GUARANTEED TO EXPLODE ON CONTACT! and quickly put them back where I found them. Sidling a little down the aisle to the handguns on display, along with a series of different caliber silver bullets, I tried to figure out exactly what kind of hardware I wanted to carry around with me. I’d already decided on a handgun, since I had no intention of getting close enough to use a sword, stakes, or daggers, nor the know-how to use those or a bow or crossbow. A rifle or shotgun would be too big and unwieldy, and there was no way I was even going to think about carrying grenades in my pockets.
After some internal debate, I pointed out a matching pair of silver pistols with tiny, built-in laser sights and black grips that appeared to be small enough to fit my hands comfortably. Probably expensive as anything, but I figured I could deduct it as a business expense. Arnold nodded his approval, and while we waited for Jack to come back out, I started poking around the UV flashlights.
Jack came out a few minutes later with some folded-up material in his arms, setting it on the counter of the gun case. “Decide what you want?”
I pointed out the guns and he unlocked and opened up the case, placing the twin pistols in my hands. They were a bit heavier than they looked, but the grips were comfortable and the laser sights were a huge plus. If I had to hit a moving target, I’d probably miss by a mile since I was never much of a shot to begin with. However, I was fairly confident these looked badass enough to make even the hungriest Other think about finding its meal elsewhere.
“I’ll take them,” I told Jack, “and some clips with speedloaders if you’ve got them.”
He nodded assent, but held up a hand in caution. “Don’t fire these anyplace where cops might be able to see you do it. The bore was altered so the bullets won’t be traceable, but if you don’t have a permit and since there’s no serial numbers on these, you won’t be able to sweet-talk your way out of jail if you’re caught with them. Or out of the hands of their maker if he finds out the cops got their hands on some of his work.”
Oh, that was comforting. With more than a little trepidation, I nodded agreement before asking, “What did you find in the back?”
His lips quirked in a secretive smile, like he knew something I didn’t. He probably did. Carefully unfolding and laying out the black clothing he’d pulled out, I frowned on noting that they just seemed like a normal pair of black tights and a turtleneck save that the material was a bit thicker than usual.
“Ever see one of those nature shows where some divers go swimming with sharks?” His crystalline blue eyes betrayed nothing.
“Sure, maybe once or twice.” I eyed the clothing speculatively.
He placed his hand over the shirt, showing pearly white teeth in something approaching a predatory grin. I had an urge to step back, but fought it down and listened.
“Then I’m sure you’ve seen that they wear a different type of diving suit, one that’s meant to keep the sharks from taking a bite out of them. Same principle with this, only a tighter weave and different material. It’s a bit more flexible, too. Feel it, tug at it, you’ll see what I mean.”
Miniature chainmail? I reached out to finger the sleeve of the sweater-looking part, getting the feel of it. It was pretty thick, and I could feel another layer of something hard but somewhat flexible underneath the slick, silk-like black cloth. I did as he suggested, taking part of the sleeve in each hand and tugging at it to see how much it gave. It barely stretched, and I kept pulling as hard as I could until I was reasonably reassured that he was right—the material wouldn’t tear easily. Feeling a little uneasy still, I gestured at the case of knives and swords a little farther down.
“What about something sharp? Will it stop those?”
He shook his head. “Depends. This isn’t meant to stop bullets or knives, it’s meant to slow down or stop an Other from being able to claw at or bite the protected areas. If they slash at you with claws or a knife, it should protect you. With the strength of an Other behind a knife stab? Probably won’t save you. They won’t be able to bite through, though, and I believe that’s what you were most worried about, yes?”
Considering the vamp and Were viruses were usually transmitted through bites, yes, it was. I nodded, trying not to feel sick with worry and not succeeding well at all. He gathered up the clothing and guns, taking everything over to the register to ring it up. I reached for my purse, cringing internally at how much this would probably cost me. Arnold put a staying hand on my arm and stepped forward with a thick bundle of cash, handing Jack a few bills off the top. I glanced at him in surprise, and he answered me with a sly grin.
“Call it a bonus. The Circle owes you for this.”
Jack placed the cash in the register and handed a handwritten receipt o
ver to Arnold. He placed the guns in small wooden cases lined with red cloth, along with a clip for each. Then he threw that, more ammo, and a shoulder holster for an easy cross-draw along with a little tissue paper on top into a plain white paper bag on top of the neatly refolded clothes, handing it over to me. Once I took the handles, he walked us over to the door leading back to the storage area. He gave me a grim half-smile and spoke a few cryptic words before shutting and bolting the door behind us.
“Pleasure doing business with you. Glad to see you made the right choice.”
I glanced at Arnold as we started up the rickety stairs. “Any idea what that was about?”
He shrugged in an uninterested way. “No. Maybe he just meant you picked a good gun or something.”
We left and headed for his car. While he unlocked the doors, I peered into the bag, poking through the boxes to take a closer look at the clothes beneath, hoping they would fit. Then I slid into the leather seat and fiddled with the radio. Since the day was fairly warm, he put the top down, then slapped my hand away from the knobs and tuned to a preset station playing some kind of techno rock.
“Let’s hit the mall, get you a jacket, then grab some food and head on back to Sara’s.”
He eased the car into traffic. I tilted my head back against the headrest, closing my eyes and just trying to enjoy the fact that I was in a convertible with a reasonably good-looking guy who’d just paid for a bunch of stuff that would probably help save my life.
All I could think about was that, in less than eight hours, I would have to face Royce and put those signed, notarized papers in his hands.
Chapter 25
It didn’t take long to find a suitable jacket in the mall. I needed something that would hide the weaponry well enough for me to get my foot in the door and, hopefully, add a little protection while still allowing for freedom of movement. Especially when it came time to draw down, if it came to that.
One of the stores actually had a nice selection of leather trench coats, and I was lucky enough to find an ankle-length black one in my size. I also swung by the shoe store and bought some combat boots. I didn’t normally wear those, but they seemed suitably badass and like they would fit with the jacket and the clothes and the guns. I think. Come on, I’ve never seen a fashion guide that tells you how to accessorize your shoes with your stakes and guns, have you?
We picked up a pizza and sodas on the way back to Sara’s. Once Arnold had parked at Sara’s place and I started to get out, he put a hand on my arm. I paused with one foot resting on the curb.
“Is Sara single?”
I blinked. That was unexpected. “Maybe. She mentioned something yesterday about this cop she’d been seeing. They’re usually on and off. I thought they were off but now I guess they’re on again.”
He nodded before getting out of the car. I watched him for a moment, trying to decide if he was asking me for security reasons or something more personal. Since Veronica was out of the picture, I wondered if that was why he was suddenly interested, and I felt an irrational twinge of jealousy.
Whatever, it wasn’t my problem and he was not my type. I don’t knowingly date Others. Not after what happened with Chaz. I hadn’t particularly gone out of my way not to before, but I wasn’t one of those thrill seekers that spent all my free time at the bars and restaurants frequented by the local supernaturals either. Plus, even the thought of being contracted gives me the willies. The extent of my experience with Others has led me to believe that the majority of them are deceptive, conniving, and occasionally violent assholes. No offense to any assholes out there.
I held the dogs back while Arnold hustled inside with the food and shopping bags. They barked up a storm as usual and tried to squeeze past me when I hopped up the porch steps and ducked inside.
Sara had set out the pizza and soda, and we all grabbed paper plates, poured some drinks, and settled around the kitchen table. Arnold watched Sara and me with an odd expression as we folded our pizza slices in half before eating them. After a minute or two of this, Sara grinned at him. “What, you’ve never eaten pizza with a New Yorker before?”
I picked a piece of pepperoni off my slice, popping it in my mouth before turning to Sara. “Are you going to use the rabbit ears or should I just carry my cell with me tonight?”
She shrugged, getting up to grab the garlic salt from one of the cabinets. “Probably just your cell. We don’t know what Royce can and can’t hear or sense, so it might be best if you limit the electronics. Just make sure you have me set in your speed dial this time.”
I nodded sheepishly, and Arnold looked mystified. “Rabbit ears?”
“Yeah. Just a nickname for a bug we wear when we speak to someone and think the conversation may require recording or turn ugly. It lets someone else listen in, and that’s mostly what we use it for, in case we need someone to bail us out in a hurry.”
“Ah.”
“What?”
“We use similar tactics at The Circle, except we use charms or familiars, not electronics.”
Oh, that was comforting. At my sudden wary look, he laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry, none were used with you except during your initial meeting with Veronica.”
He took a big bite out of the pizza, all too cheerful about that. It gave me the willies, which decreased my appetite, though not enough to stop me from finishing off the slice I was working on.
“Hey, Shia, no luck on the Borowsky kid,” Sara said. “All I got was a tip from one of his friends that he’s into the Goth and vamp scene, way more than his parents knew. Nothing surprising, nothing helpful. Anyway, you’ve got a few hours ’til sundown. Do you know what you want to do for the rest of the day?”
“Hiding under a rock somewhere sounds good to me.”
Arnold nudged the bags beside the table with his foot. “You should probably put everything on and practice moving in it. If it’s been a while, I’d suggest taking a few practice shots with the gun, too.”
“You really think I’m going to need to use it?” I felt the blood drain from my face. God, I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
His lips curved downward, gaze sliding away from mine. “I don’t know. I hope not.”
Well, worrying about it hadn’t helped anything yet. I resolved to start thinking about what I could do instead of how everything could go wrong. At the very least, I could do what he said and try on the clothes, get used to moving in them, and make sure the whole ensemble wouldn’t look too ridiculous when I showed up at Royce’s office.
Wiping my greasy fingers on a crumpled napkin, I got up and gathered the bags, belt, and vial of Amber Kiss perfume.
“I’m heading upstairs to change. Be back in a few minutes.”
They both gave me the thumbs-up, munching on their pizza. I wasn’t hungry, but I’d probably make myself eat another piece later when I was feeling a little more secure. Like after I had some stakes and guns on my person.
It took a minute for me to pull on the new clothes. At first, the turtleneck shirt and pants seemed uncomfortably tight. You could see the slightest bump under the shirt where the charm necklace that let me see through vamp and magi illusions rested against my skin, plastered in my cleavage. I hadn’t removed it since the meeting with Royce, and wasn’t planning on willingly taking it off for as long as I lived.
The shirt covered almost my whole neck, but I noticed that the slick material made it difficult to slide my fingers under it and yank it down lower. After getting over the initial irritation, I realized this was a good thing. It meant Royce would also have a tough time pulling it down enough to reach anything vital. Same with the wrists and ankles, though the pants were just a touch too long and I had to figure out a way to fold the material under so it wouldn’t bunch up in the shoes and irritate my skin.
I took a little time to stretch, reaching down to touch the floor, squat, split, and basically just make sure my freedom of movement wouldn’t be too restricted. Thankfully, the stuff clung like a s
econd skin and wasn’t so stiff that I lost any flexibility. The burning ache in my muscles was a reminder that I’d missed my normal exercise over the weekend and would have to figure out some time to make it up—if I survived tonight’s ordeal.
With the pants tucked into my new combat boots and the silver cross at my neck gleaming against the flat black of the shirt, I had to admit as I examined myself in the full-length mirror, that I did indeed look the part of a vampire hunter. Or maybe a thief. Or a Goth? Yeah, I didn’t like where this train of thought was going.
The shoulder holster was next. I had to fiddle with the straps to adjust them. Then readjust them when I realized I had put it on wrong. Then fiddle with and adjust it a little more so it didn’t dig into my boobs quite so much. What a pain. It would make for an easy cross-draw, though, and the weapons wouldn’t be too conspicuous under the jacket.
The belt came last. I stared at it for a minute, laid out on the guest bed, looking utterly innocuous except for the big-ass silver stakes in their sheaths on one side. The trio of silver stakes had leather grips, worn and stained a dull gray from the sweat of many palms. The belt itself was a dull black that hadn’t yet been bleached by time. On the inside, where it would lay against cloth or skin, I knew it had glyphs branded into it, though I didn’t understand what they were for or what they meant. Putting it on meant it would adhere to me until the next sunrise. It meant I would be knowingly, willingly dipping my fingers into a magic melting pot.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I reached out a trembling hand, praying that the choices I’d made were right and that this thing really would help see me through ’til tomorrow’s sunrise.