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“Yes, but I’m having trouble deciding exactly how much to tell you.”
The smile widened. “Naturally.”
I set out two mugs, sugar, and real cream from the refrigerator. The coffee dripped into the little glass pot. The smell was rich, warm, and thick enough to wrap your arms around.
“How do you like your coffee?”
“Fix it the way you’d fix it for yourself.”
I glanced back at him. “No preference?”
He shook his head, still resting against the couch arm.
“Okay.” I poured the coffee into the mugs, added three sugars and a lot of cream to each, stirred, and sat them on the two-seater breakfast table.
“You’re not going to bring it to me?”
“You don’t drink coffee on a white couch,” I said.
“Ah.” He got up in one smooth motion, all grace and energy. He’d have been very impressive if I hadn’t spent most of the night with vampires.
We sat across from each other. His eyes were the color of spring skies, that warm pale blue that still manages to look cold. His face was pleasant, his eyes neutral and watching everything I did.
I told him about Yasmeen and Marguerite. I left out Jean-Claude, the vampire murder, the giant cobra, Stephen the Werewolf, and Rick Zeeman. Which meant it was a very short story.
When I finished Edward sat there, sipping his coffee and staring at me.
I sipped coffee and stared back.
“That does explain the burn,” he said.
“Great,” I said.
“But you left out a lot.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I was following you.”
I stared at him, choking on my coffee. When I could talk without coughing, I said, “You were what?”
“Following you,” he said. His eyes were still neutral, smile still pleasant.
“Why?”
“I’ve been hired to kill the Master of the City.”
“You were hired for that three months ago.”
“Nikolaos is dead; the new master isn’t.”
“You didn’t kill Nikolaos,” I said. “I did.”
“True; you want half the money?”
I shook my head.
“Then what’s your complaint? I got my arm broken helping you kill her.”
“And I got fourteen stitches, and we both got vampire bit,” I said.
“And cleansed ourselves with holy water,” Edward said.
“Which burns likes acid,” I said.
Edward nodded, sipped his coffee. Something moved behind his eyes, something liquid and dangerous. His expression hadn’t changed, I’d swear to it, but it was suddenly all I could do to meet his eyes.
“Why were you following me, Edward?”
“I was told you would be meeting with the new Master tonight.”
“Who told you that?”
He shook his head, that inscrutable smile curling his lips. “I was inside the Circus tonight, Anita. I saw who you were with. You played with the vampires, then you went home, so one of them has to be the Master.”
I fought to keep my face blank, too blank, so the effort showed, but the panic didn’t show. Edward had been following me, and I hadn’t known it. He knew all the vampires I had seen tonight. It wasn’t that big a list. He’d figure it out.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “You let me go up against that snake without helping me?”
“I came in after the crowd ran out. It was almost over by the time I peeked into the tent.”
I drank coffee and tried to think of a way to make this better. He had a contract to kill the Master, and I had led him right to him. I had betrayed Jean-Claude. Why did that bother me?
Edward was watching my face as if he would memorize it. He was waiting for my face to betray me. I worked hard at being blank and inscrutable. He smiled that close, canary-eating grin of his. He was enjoying himself. I was not.
“You only saw four vampires tonight: Jean-Claude, the dark exotic one who must be Yasmeen, and the two blonds. You got names for the blonds?”
I shook my head.
His smile widened. “Would you tell me if you had?”
“Maybe.”
“The blonds aren’t important,” he said. “Neither of them were master vamps.”
I stared at him, forcing my face to be neutral, pleasant, attentive, blank. Blank is not one of my better expressions, but maybe if I practiced enough…
“That leaves Jean-Claude and Yasmeen. Yasmeen’s new in town; that just leaves Jean-Claude.”
“Do you really think that the Master of the freaking City would show himself like that?” I put all the scorn I could find into my voice. I wasn’t the best actor in the world, but maybe I could learn.
Edward stared at me. “It’s Jean-Claude, isn’t it?”
“Jean-Claude isn’t powerful enough to hold the city. You know that. He’s, what, a little over two hundred? Not old enough.”
He frowned at me. Good. “It’s not Yasmeen.”
“True.”
“You didn’t talk to any other vampires tonight?”
“You may have followed me into the Circus, Edward, but you didn’t listen at the door when I met the Master. You couldn’t have. The vamps or the shapeshifters would have heard you.”
He acknowledged it with a nod.
“I saw the Master tonight, but it wasn’t anyone who came down to fight the snake.”
“The Master let his people risk their lives and didn’t help?” His smile was back.
“The Master of the City doesn’t have to be physically present to lend his power, you know that.”
“No,” he said, “I don’t.”
I shrugged. “Believe it or not.” I prayed, please let him believe.
He was frowning. “You’re not usually this good a liar.”
“I’m not lying.” My voice sounded calm, normal, truthful. Honesty-R-Us.
“If Jean-Claude really isn’t the Master, then you know who is?”
The question was a trap. I couldn’t answer yes to both questions, but hell, I’d been lying; why stop now? “Yes, I know who it is.”
“Tell me,” he said.
I shook my head. “The Master would kill me if he knew I talked to you.”
“We can kill him together like we did the last one.” His voice was terribly reasonable.
I thought about it for a minute. I thought about telling him the truth. Humans First might not be up to tangling with the Master, but Edward was. We could kill him together, a team. My life would be a lot simpler. I shook my head and sighed. Shit.
“I can’t, Edward.”
“Won’t,” he said.
I nodded. “Won’t.”
“If I believe you, Anita, it means I need the name of the Master. It means you are the only human who knows that name.” The friendly banter seeped out of his face like melting ice. His eyes were as empty and pitiless as a winter sky. There was no one home that I could talk to.
“You don’t want to be the only human who knows the name, Anita.”
He was right. I didn’t, but what could I say? “Take it or leave it, Edward.”
“Save yourself a lot of pain, Anita; tell me the name.”
He believed. Hot damn. I lowered my eyes to look down into my coffee so he wouldn’t see the flash of triumph in my eyes. When I looked back up, I had my face under control. Me and Meryl Streep.
“I don’t give in to threats, you know that.”
He nodded. He finished his coffee and sat the mug in the middle of the table. “I will do whatever is necessary to finish this job.”
“I never doubted that,” I said. He was talking about torturing me for information. He sounded almost regretful, but that wouldn’t stop him. One of Edward’s primary rules was “Always finish a job.”
He wouldn’t let a little thing like friendship ruin his perfect record.
“You saved my life, and I saved yours,” he said. “It doesn’t buy you anything now. You understand that?”
I nodded. “I understand.”
“Good.” He stood up. I stood up. We looked at each other. He shook his head. “I’ll find you tonight, and I’ll ask again.”
“I won’t be bullied, Edward.” I was finally getting a little mad. He had come in here asking for information; now he was threatening me. I let the anger show. No acting needed.
“You’re tough, Anita, but not that tough.” His eyes were neutral, but wary, like those of a wolf I’d seen once in California. I’d just walked around a tree and there it had been, standing. I froze. I had never really understood what neutral meant until then. The wolf didn’t give a damn if it hurt me or not. My choice. Threaten it, and the shit hit the fan. Give it room to run, and it would run. But the wolf didn’t care; it was prepared either way. I was the one with my pulse in my throat, so startled that I’d stopped breathing. I held my breath and wondered what the wolf would decide. It finally loped off through the trees.