Death's Mistress

“Why did he want the rune?”

“He didn’t give me the details. But I guess so he could control the fights. Give the stone to the fighter he wanted to win, and he could determine the outcome of every bout. And clean up even more than he already does. My debts were nothing compared to that.”

“You agreed to make the switch.”

“I thought it would be easy: a little sleight of hand, and no harm done. Jókell would get his money, I would get out of hock to all the people I owe and Geminus would get off my back. But I didn’t expect to be attacked!”

“What happened?”

“I’d barely gotten in the door. Jókell had taken the rune out of its carrier and was about to hand it to me, when the door burst open and someone threw me across the room.”

“Who attacked you?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t see? You were right there!”

“Right there and almost unconscious. I hit the wall and all but cracked my skull open. I heard the fight going on behind me, realized something had gone wrong and knew I had to get out of there. But the only window was bricked up, and the fight was between me and the door.”

“What did you do?”

He shrugged glossy shoulders—withers—whatever. “The only thing I could do. I went through the portal into Faerie. But time’s ru

I’d said it was like he’d fallen off the face of the Earth. I just hadn’t realized it was literally true. “You didn’t see anything?”

“I glanced back just as I crawled through the portal, to see if anybody was coming after me. And I glimpsed somebody in a dark cloak. But I didn’t see the face.”

“So tell me what you did see. Was he heavyset or ski

“I saw the back of a cloak and it had the hood up; I couldn’t tell. And you all look tall to me.” He mumbled something that sounded like “planet of mutants.”

“Scent, then—what did he smell like? Or sound—did he say anything?” At this point, I’d take what I could get.

“I don’t have senses as acute as yours, and that club was too smelly and too noisy to make much out. Besides, I don’t think he said anything.”

I regarded him in utter frustration. I had an eyewitness who hadn’t bothered to use his eyes—or anything else. Perfect.

“You knew I was dhampir before I even opened my mouth,” I reminded him. “You must have sensed something.”

“I can tell species, even under a glamourie. It’s the whole truth thing.” He waved a paw.

“Then what was it?”

He started to open his mouth, and then stopped, frowning. “You know, that’s weird.”

“What is?”

“I hadn’t thought about it. But if I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was a human.”

CHAPTER 34

The luduan’s evidence hadn’t helped as much as I’d hoped, since the only human involved in the case was dead. But vamps had human servants, even mages on occasion. And he had provided one tasty little nugget.

I had my phone out before I’d reached the bottom floor. “Geminus,” I told it.

“The master is—”

“Going to be really sorry if he doesn’t take this call. I can talk to him, or I can talk to Marlowe about the smuggling ring he’s been ru

Geminus was on the phone in less than a minute, which told me a lot on its own. SOP was to let people like me hang, but then, he was probably afraid I’d do the same to him. One call to the Senate, and Geminus was going to be a very unhappy boy.

“What do you want?” The question was snapped in my ear before I’d even had a chance to say hello.

“I already told you that.”

“I don’t have it!”

“That’s too bad. I’m sure you’ve managed to cover your tracks pretty well up until now. But that was because no one was looking too closely at you. Once that changes, I don’t think the evidence for your smuggling operation will be hard to find. And that doesn’t even count what the fey are likely to—”

“Where are you?” he asked abruptly.

“Chinatown. Why?”

“Stay there, and keep your phone with you.”

“If this is a stalling tactic—”

“It isn’t. I really don’t have the damned stone. But I may know who does.”

“Who?”

“You don’t need to know that. I’ll get it and meet you.” The phone went dead.

I looked up to find Frick and Frack staring at me. “That was Senator Geminus,” Frick said.

“You do talk.”

“You’re blackmailing him?”

I put my phone away. “We’re reaching a mutually advantageous agreement.”

“What about the smuggling?”

It looked like someone had been eavesdropping. Not too surprising—it was probably why Marlowe had sent them along. “I’ll have to keep quiet about that, if he comes through. Of course, what you do is none of my business.”

They smiled.

Half an hour later, I was rooting around in my bamboo dim sum tray, hoping for another little barbecue pork bun, while my eyes sca

The impromptu parade had been by twice already, a crowd following the dancers like the tide and blocking the entrance to the small restaurant. It was making the owner scowl from his perch behind the cash register, but the waiters and patrons clearly loved their front row seats. The August Moon Festival was a big deal, and everyone was in good spirits.

Everyone but me. Geminus hadn’t called, and his phone went automatically to his mailbox. I drank my beer to wash the anxious heartburn back down and watched the spectacle with everyone else.

My chopsticks rattled on bamboo. I added the dead soldier to the tower across the table while my waiter watched with big eyes. He was clearly wondering where I was putting it all. “Metabolism,” I explained.

I was trying to decide between more buns and the Mongolian barbecue when a static charge ruffled the hair on the back of my neck. My head jerked up to stare at a vampire walking down the street, flickering in between the line of glossy duck butts in the window. He paused on the corner, the shadows around him ebbing and flowing along with the overhead neon light.

It wasn’t Geminus. I saw a pleasant face with generic features under a swath of dark hair, totally unremarkable except for the sense of power radiating off him like a small sun. I watched the figure brighten and fade, brighten and fade, until it seemed like the face itself was flowing instead of the light.

There weren’t too many vamps with a power signature that strong, and most of them were at the Challenge. The traffic stopped, and he headed across the street. And my eyes narrowed.

Despite the stereotypes, there are plenty of tall Chinese. There are also quite a few who fill out a pair of jeans in interesting ways. But there are few people of any race who move through a crowd as gracefully as a dancer across a ballroom. I knew those moves.

More unmistakably, I knew that butt.

I swallowed the last of my Kirin, shoved a fifty at my waiter and burst out into the brilliantly colored night.

The vamp was already almost a block ahead, moving fast through the mass of shopping-bag-carrying locals and camera-toting tourists. He hit a snag in the form of the crowd around the dragon dancers, and it let me get close enough to scent him—or it should have. I took a breath, but all I got was the acrid smell of gunpowder from teenagers setting off illegal fireworks. Then the wind shifted, blowing in my direction, and I fell back quickly.

And someone grabbed my arm.

I whirled, slamming my attacker back against the darkened window of a shop, a knife to his throat. “Y-your change?”