When Tristan shifted back into her normal voice, Cole felt a jolt worse than if he’d accidentally stared directly into one of the nearby strobes.
“Some of the more colorful details were probably exaggerated, but the core of it is true,” she said. “A Nymar’s thirst for human blood above all others stems from that first sip from a nymph. That’s why the few of us that are left must protect ourselves, and why the Nymar will not stop once they’ve found us.” Tickling Cole’s chin, she added, “Deep down inside, they know we’re the sweetest tasting things on this earth.”
“I can vouch for that,” Cole said before he could stop himself.
Losing the singsong quality of her voice as if she’d flipped a switch, Tristan said, “That Skinner over there brought the Nymar to this club, but it’s not why he came. Like those leeches, he came for us.”
“Why does he want you?” Rico asked.
Paige locked her eyes on Tristan so she could watch the nymph carefully as she said, “Maybe it has something to do with how this one can be here after being on the other side of the country less than an hour before.”
For the first time since they’d met, Tristan looked genuinely stunned. Even so, she recovered with a pretty smile and a cute little upward curl of an eyebrow. “That’s part of it. When he arrived, he asked to use us as a way to reach the entire world at once. When we refused, he asked to run some tests on one of my sisters.” Grimacing as if the words themselves were fetid upon her tongue, she added, “He wanted samples from them. When we refused that, he kidnapped two of my sisters and threatened to kill them if we didn’t do what he asked. Ever since then he comes here every other night and sits there like an arrogant bastard, writing in his notebook and collecting our sweat with cotton swabs.”
“Why doesn’t Christov do anything about this?” Paige asked.
“Because I didn’t tell him the whole story,” Tristan replied. “All he’d do is try to send Mikey or one of the others after him, and that would only get my sisters killed. I don’t need bouncers. I need Skinners.”
Cole’s first impulse was to agree to do whatever Tristan wanted. More than anything, he wanted to do what she wanted and it didn’t matter what it was. But before he could roll with those instincts, he took a moment to question what had put them there. And that one bit of questioning was all it took for him to say, “You were lucky to get that first pass from us. Just because we sat here and listened to you doesn’t mean we’re just another group of admirers.”
“What?” Tristan asked.
“Yeah,” Paige said quickly. “What?”
“I haven’t done my research on nymphs, but I’ve seen enough to get the gist of it. You get your way and have a few sexy tricks up your sleeve, which are boosted by this temple or whatever. We’re not drones. If you have a proposition to make, then make it. We don’t do anything just because you snapped your fingers.” Seeing the hurt expression on Tristan’s face, Cole couldn’t help but add, “Not to be mean or anything, but…”
Paige reached over and rubbed his arm. “Valiant effort, young one.” To Tristan, she said, “How about we start with what that old guy was so interested in.”
Rico pushed away from the table and took his almost empty mug with him. “And I’ll start by introducing myself. If this guy is a Skinner, I wanna know about it. If he ain’t, then I got a real problem with someone sayin’ they are when they ain’t. And if he is, no wait…I’ll be right back.”
“Leave the beer,” Paige said. “You’ve had enough.”
As he crossed the room to the bearded man’s table, Rico couldn’t help but notice Shae making her rounds. Very few words were exchanged before the older man got up, grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her toward the employees’ entrance. Within seconds after that, Rico was close enough to hear the bearded man say, “Sing for me,” to the frightened nymph.
Rico clamped a hand on the old man’s shoulder and squeezed with enough force to crush a beer can. “Ain’t exactly the best time to get yer rocks off, pops.”
Up close, the bearded man had the presence of a washed-out photograph. His skin was rough and leathery and his clothes had the musty smell of the most unpopular section of a library. When he looked at Rico, he seemed more confused than anything else. “You should be helping me. I’m one of you. See?” He swung his other hand up to show a palm that was so scarred, it looked as if it had been stitched together from numerous shreds of torn skin. “These nymphs have a part to play in destroying the filth that have hunted us for too long. Help me.”
“Why don’t you help yourself by letting her go?”
The bearded man lost his patience in an instant. Pulling Shae closer, he picked up the stick that had been propped against his table and snarled, “Do you know who I am? I made every Skinner what they are today!”
“Lemme guess,” Rico chuckled. “You’re Jonah Lancroft?”
“Then you do know. Enough damage has been done by those who would sully our craft. Unhand me and help put these Dryad whores to work before it’s too late.”
Rico blinked and tried to replay the last few sentences in his head to make sure the beer hadn’t hit him harder than he’d thought.
“I have no time to waste,” the old man said as he shook loose of Rico’s grip. “This place will have to be sacrificed along with you. Henry, give the Mongrels what they want.”
Rico pressed the barrel of the .45 against the man’s elbow and said, “Let go before you lose an arm!”
They’re coming, Dr. Lancroft!
The voice rattling inside Rico’s head was quickly wiped out by the hacking cry of the waitress who’d brought him his beer. She screamed at him through a mouthful of sludge and tried to pull his gun away as if she’d lost all fear of it going off in her face.
The music faded for a second and was replaced by an updated mix of Van Halen’s “Hot for Teacher.” Right on cue, Kate strode onto the stage wearing a plaid skirt, glasses, and her red hair tied in pigtails. Strictly speaking, the outfit was more of a “hot for student” sort of thing, but none of the patrons seemed to mind. In fact, their cheers were so loud that nobody could hear the slam of tables being upended throughout the club or guards rushing toward the rowdy customers. Cole had been struggling to catch sight of Rico through the milling crowd and wriggling dancers when he heard a voice that was part scream and part gurgle. More shouting followed as people backed away from the instigators of the brawls that had all sprung up at the same time. More and more of the customers and employees showed traces of watery sludge dripping from their eyes or thicker mud flowing from their mouths.
Cole jumped to his feet, lifting Tristan up with him. “Shit! Where did they come from?”
“I think they can come from just about anywhere,” Paige replied as she stood up and drew the baton from her left boot. “Henry’s got to be close.”
“He’s always close.”
At first the fights were treated like any other scuffle in such a deep pool of testosterone. People moved away from those swinging the punches, while others welcomed the chance to dive in and get their hands dirty. That all changed when people looked closer at the groaning faces at the center of the disturbance. Blank faces caked with mud all turned away from Cole and Paige to fix upon the back of the room. Then the people who weren’t infected tried to get away from those who were, sparking more and more fights like little fires crackling around an inferno.
“These dudes are sick!” someone yelled.
When someone else shouted, “It’s that Mud Flu shit!” distemper grew into panic.
Rico didn’t want to kill anyone, but he also wasn’t about to let himself be overrun by the growing mob converging on him. He fired a shot intended to frighten the Mud People away, but all that did was change panic into a riot.