Страница 30 из 71
Sometimes I wished I'd been born that oblivious.
We waited until she was gone. I dumped a packet of creamer into my coffee. "So do you have contacts in Rio, other than a plug-in? Abra couldn't give me any." I settled back, wrinkling my nose at the reheated black brew.
"A few," she said, tearing into her sandwich. "Guess who else is down Rio way? Jace Monroe."
I made a face. "Yeah, Abra told me. Go figure."
"He's good backup."
"Too bad we're not going to use him."
"Aw, come on," Eddie piped up. "You two are so cute together."
I shrugged. "I don't go near the Mob. I thought you knew that."
"He's not Mob no more." Eddie slurped at his steaming soup, wiggling his blond eyebrows at me. He seemed to have forgotten he was on a transport.
"I fell for that line the first time. Once Mob, always Mob." I nibbled at my Danish, finding it bearable. "You remember that when you're dealing with him, Eddie, 'cause I sure as hell won't ever be messing around with him. Once was enough for me."
"I'll bet," Gabe muttered snidery, and I threw her a look that could have cut glass.
My rings swirled with lazy energy. We settled down to a long flight, Gabe flipping through her magazine again while she sipped at her coffee, Eddie finishing his soup in a series of loud smacking slurps, crunching on the crackers. I fished a book out of my bag—a paperback version of the Nine Canons, the glyphs and runes that made up the most reliable branch of magick. You can't ever study too much. I was secondarily talented as a runewitch, and I firmly believed that memorizing the Canons trained the mind and opened up the Power meridians, and why waste power creating a spell when you could use a Canon glyph as a shortcut?
The demon settled himself in his seat, alternating between watching me and studying his cup as if the secrets of the universe were held inside the nasty liquid passing for coffee. At least it was hot, and it had enough caffeine.
It was going to be a long, long flight.
CHAPTER 21
We touched down in Nuevo Rio not a moment too soon. "Eddie, if you don't quit it, I'm going to fucking kill you," I snarled, standing and scooping my sword up.
"You're the one tapping your fingernails all the time," Gabe retorted. "Don't get all up on him."
"Stay out of this, Spocarelli," I warned her.
The demon rose like a dark wave. "Perhaps it's best to have this conversation outside," he said mildly. "You seem tense."
That gave us both something to focus on. "When I want your opinion, I'll ask you for it," I snapped.
"Oh, for the love of Hades, leave the damn demon alone!" Gabe almost yelled. "Off. Get me off this damn thing—"
"You're like a pair of spitting cats," Eddie mumbled. "Worse than a motherfucking cockfight."
"Now I know why I don't travel," I muttered, making sure my bag fell right. The airlocks whooshed, and we would have to wait our turn to get out.
Fuck that, I thought, and jammed the door to our compartment open. There are some good things about being a Necromance. One is that people get out of your way in a hell of a hurry when you come striding down a transport corridor with a sword in your hand and your emerald spitting sparks. Being accredited meant being able to carry edged metal in transports, and I had never been so glad.
Japhrimel followed me. By the time I stalked through another pair of airlocks and onto the dock, I was begi
"Amen to that," I answered. "Hey, what hotel are we staying at?"
"No hotel," she said, still trying to push her hair back, "I got us one better. We're going to stay with a friend. Cheap, effective, and safe."
"Who?" I was begi
"Who else?" A familiar voice echoed along the dock. People began to pile out of the transport, casting nervous glances at us—two Necromances and a Skinlin, armed to the teeth, and a man in a long black coat. I closed my eyes, searching for control. Found it, and turned on my heel.
Jason Monroe leaned against a support post, his blue eyes glowing under a thatch of wheat-gold hair. He wore black, even in Rio, a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt, a Mob assassin's rig over the T-shirt, two guns, a collection of knives, his sword sheathed at his side. I prefer to carry my blade; he wore his thrust through his belt like an old-time samurai.
He was taller than me, and broad-shouldered, and wore the same kind of boots Gabe and I did. The thorny-twisted tattoo on his cheek marked him as an accredited Shaman just as the leather spirit bag on a thong around his neck marked him as a vaudun. Small bones hung from raffia twine clicked together as he moved slightly, twirling his long staff. I caught a glimpse of red in his spiky aura—he must have just offered to his patron ha. "Hey, Da
CHAPTER 22
"I can't believe you did this," I hissed at Gabe. She looked supremely unconcerned.
"It's safe," she repeated for the fifth time. "And neither of us has endlessly deep pockets. Who's going to mess with an ex-Mob vaudun Shaman in Nuevo Rio? He's established, Da
"A little warning next time you decide to drop shit like this on me," I said, glancing out the window. Jace had reserved us a cab, said he'd meet us back at his place, and hopped on a Chervoyg slicboard, rocketing away. Leaving us to pile into the cab with our luggage and get dumped at his house like a package delivery.
One thing hadn't changed; the man certainly irritated me as much as he ever had.
Eddie was gri
Nuevo Rio sprawled underneath us in a haze of smoke and noise. Here, the Power was more raw, not like Saint City's cold radioactive glow. This was a different pool of energy, and I would have to spend a little time acclimating. As it was, I felt a little green, and when the cab swooped to avoid a flight of freight transports, I grabbed at the nearest steady thing—which just happened to be Japhrimel's shoulder. I dug my fingers in.
He said nothing.
"I don't care who he's got jackshit for," I snapped. "I told you I never wanted to see him again. And you—you—" I was actually spluttering.
Gabe regarded me coolly, her dark eyes level. "What's the big deal, Da
"One of these days," I forced out between clenched teeth, "I will make you pay for this."
She shrugged. "Guess we'll be even when all's said and done, won't we?" She looked out the window at the sweltering smoghole that was Rio. "Gods. I hate the heat as much as I hate travel."
I could kill her, I thought. No jury would ever convict me. I realized my fingers were still digging into Japhrimel's shoulder and made them unloose with a physical effort. "Sorry," I said, blankly, to the demon.
He shrugged. "He was once a lover?" he asked, politely enough. "He seemed very happy to see you."