Sire? Was a pirate? Is that cool, or what?
Or what, I told her. Ripping isn’t something you do out of kindness. It’s harsh, and usually lethal for both sides.
Considering that the vamp turned Vayl’s wife first, we can pretty much bet Vayl’s Sire was psycho.
Was? Or is?
What do you say we never find out?
Vayl had stopped talking. Had come so close to me I could feel his power brushing against mine, a sweet friction I could hardly bear without touching him. I closed my eyes.
“Madame? Are you quite al right?”
I stared at him, my mind a complete blank. Cole came to my rescue. “Now that we’ve scouted the shop, we’d better secure the whole building before we question Ahmed. You know, in case his buddies come back before we’re ready to deal with them. And, uh, our boss is stil bleeding.”
Work. Right. That’ll get me through this. Or kill me.
Sad, right now, that I don’t know which would be worse. I said, “Let’s go old-school and barricade al the doors and windows.”
“I’m on it.” Without even a glance at Kyphas, Cole went off to secure the second floor before finishing the job below.
Ignoring the demon’s pout, I fol owed him up to Ahmed’s living quarters, grabbed a couple of clean T-shirts when I couldn’t locate a first-aid kit, and came back down to find that everyone except our sniper had assembled in the office, a smal room whose wide door opened to the service counter.
Sterling had dropped the mage into a wooden chair on rol ers that creaked like an eighty-year-old man whenever Ahmed shifted his weight. Our warlock had made himself comfortable by sitting on the edge of a battered wooden desk that held a PC, miscel aneous office supplies and, on its other corner, a blood-soaked vampire.
At the opposite end of the room, Kyphas, probably under orders from Sterling, had fil ed his teapot with water and set it on a hot plate that stood on top of a filing cabinet so old the handles had been replaced with knotted bandanas. While she waited for the water to rol , she leaned against the doorframe and stared unwaveringly at Ahmed.
“Tel her to stop,” he final y whispered. “I am a devout man. A Mage of the Seal. I cannot be tempted by feminine flesh.”
Kyphas nodded.
I said, “Did you see that, Ahmed? She’s making a mental note. That’s what hel spawn do. They figure out what you don’t want. Then they offer you everything you think you need.”
“Huh-huh-hel spawn?” he squeaked. “In my shop? Make her leave!”
her leave!”
I went up to Vayl and motioned for him to lift his pants leg. It was work to keep the holy-shit-you’re-missing-a-hunka-yerself! off my face as I began cleaning and bandaging. I managed it by interrogating the asshole who’d made the past few days complete misery for me.
“Ahmed,” I said. “Why would I want Kyphas to go when I’m considering asking her to reach down your throat and rip out your kidneys?”
He cringed. Wow. These pixie-dust types don’t have a whole lotta backbone when their wands are pulled out from underneath them.
“What have you done with Helena?” Vayl demanded.
“What?” Now our prisoner was both scared and bewildered. Good mix? Maybe. You never can tel until it al boils over. Speaking of which, the teapot had begun to whistle. Sterling handed Kyphas a pouch ful of, wel , it looked (and smel ed) like potpourri.
“Dump it al in,” he said. Typical. Leave it to the warlock to keep the secret ingredient to himself until it was time to make real magic.
At the same time Vayl was struggling to stand. I could feel his anger and frustration rising.
“Lord Brâncoveanu—Vasil,” I said. “You’re making this extra hard to—”
“I care only for Helena’s welfare!” Vayl snapped.
Cole poked his head into the door, the barricading evidently up to his standards. “I think I can help.” He strol ed over to Ahmed’s chair, and whispered at length into the mage’s ear. It was almost comical to watch the change come over his face. His expression went from confused and scared to piss-your-pants freaked. Then Sterling’s fun-mix hit the air and he fel into a happy daze.
Natural y we’d al stuffed our nostrils with Sterling’s special wax, so it only felt like we’d been congested for a week.
Wel , al of us but Vayl, who’d flat out refused. Because, as he’d continuously reminded us, warlocks are evil.
When my sverhamin began to smile, I mean real y show fang, I thought, Uh-oh. But Ahmed had hit the confessional and I didn’t want to miss a word.
He looked dreamily into Cole’s eyes and said, “I just wanted the money, that’s al . It takes money to buy components. And more money to experiment with new combinations that wil impress the Ardent enough to convince them to bestow upon you the title of Mage of the Scrol . Roldan had money. Sooooo much money.” Ahmed rol ed his head around to stare at me. “You have lovely hair.
It’s like curly, red wood shavings.”
“Her hair is not red,” Vayl said, wagging his finger at Ahmed like the bad boy had forgotten to take out the trash.
“Sil y.”
“Oh you.” Ahmed circled his head around and grinned foolishly at the vampire, who’d begun shoving his finger forward like he was trying to stab Ahmed with it. Or saw off a piece of butter for his corn on the cob.
Ahmed stared down at his feet. “I think I’m in trouble.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“Look at my little toe. It’s stopped dancing. You know what that means?”
I caught Sterling’s eyes. He shrugged. “What?” I asked.
His entire face puckered. “I’ve been a bad, bad boy.” He started to cry. Vayl, his forehead crinkling in sympathy, went over to pat him on the shoulder as Ahmed said, “I have scary werewolves living in my basement. You know what they eat for breakfast? Raw sheep’s liver. Liver is supposed to be cooked, you know!”
Cole took my arm and escorted me to the corner of the little office opposite the file cabinet, at which time he asked,
“If I laughed out loud, how hard would you kick my ass?” I shook my head. “This is so not the scene I was I shook my head. “This is so not the scene I was imagining. How are we supposed—oh no. They’re—Cole.
Tel me they’re not…”
He nodded, biting his lip to keep it from betraying him.
“Yes, Madame B., I’m afraid so. Your loveypoo is hugging the mage who cursed him. Who is hugging him back. It’s a total hugfest. Do you want a hug?”
“No!”
Sterling held out his arms and nodded, so Cole and he embraced while giggling idiotical y, and then, of course, Kyphas had to stick her big old boobs into it until everybody in the goddamn room was snuggling like a bunch of drunken idiots doing the Closing Time Dance.
I heard a crack, looked down, and realized I’d just broken the pencil sharpener. When I looked up… huh. I caught Ahmed in the middle of a crafty expression that didn’t fit with his recent behavior. I checked his wrists.
“Sterling! Your cuffs are loose! See what happens when you cuddle during an interrogation?”