Bloody Acquisitions (Fred Book 3) (33 page)

“That’s all right. I have almost nothing else to do. All the pieces are in motion now; until tonight, I have no real part to play. Oh, except . . .” I reached down for my briefcase, popped it open, and pulled a business card from its depths. Sliding it across the table, I waited until Charlotte had picked it up to continue.

“In the event of my death, whenever that may come, I’ve made arrangements for Asha to manage your business until such time as a suitable replacement is found. She would come by to explain everything if the occasion arose, but I felt like you should hear it from me, just so you knew she was on the up-and-up. You can trust her.”

“Didn’t I hold this woman hostage and threaten to kill her?” Charlotte asked.

“Water under the bridge. Well, mostly under, anyway. Regardless, she agreed to take on the responsibility, and that means she’ll see it through,” I assured Charlotte.

“Thank you.” In a motion, the card vanished, though I had no doubt it was tucked away safely somewhere inside the expansive estate. “You didn’t need to worry about me, you know. There’s already a lot on your plate.”

“It’s really nothing, something I should have gotten done ages ago. Most of my clients can find new accountants, but I’d be doing you a disservice if I left you in the lurch.” I took a long drink from my wine, and behind Charlotte, a waiter appeared with a fresh glass in hand.

“Please do your best to survive this dinner party,” Charlotte told me. “I’ve got no desire to get accustomed to working with someone new. Plus, cleaning all the blood off my floor would be a real pain, even for me.”

“Have no fear, I plan on doing everything I can to survive the night.”

That seemed to satisfy her, and we sat in silence for some while afterward. I went through three more glasses of wine while I waited for Krystal to come bursting through the door, yelling about some out of control parahuman she and Arch had brought down. She would be loud, and messy, and total chaos, and I wanted to see her like that again. Just once more, before it all came to a head.

Eventually though, I gave up, heading upstairs and climbing into bed alone.

7.

The paperwork was sitting on the bed, messengered over midway through the day. The dinner was being prepped, not that most of the diners would be touching it, and the clock was ticking down, with less than half an hour left until my guests arrived. And yet, I was stuck, fumbling with a tie I’d knotted countless times, my fingers so dumb with nerves that I couldn’t manage to get the cursed thing properly around my neck. All I could think of was the impending meeting, the clan of vampires on their way to Charlotte Manor, and with every passing second, my longshot seemed less and less likely to succeed. It was like my hands knew it, and were purposely refusing to finish the knot, keeping me from going downstairs and facing my own execution squad.

At least the rest of my suit was pressed and ready; the delivery service Asha recommended had really been top-notch. I didn’t own a lot of suits; they were mostly used when I went to formal occasions or courted more professional clients. Still, like any good entrepreneur, I had a few, and I’d been wearing ties for the vast majority of my adult life, which made it all the more frustrating as I sat in the bedroom, still alone after a day of waiting, trying to figure out where I kept going wrong.

“Someone is feeling fancy tonight.”

I jerked my head around. In my preoccupation with the tie, I hadn’t even noticed the door slip open, let alone the familiar face it had revealed. Krystal stood there, in the same clothes I’d last seen her in, bloodshot eyes betraying the fact that her assignment had kept her up all day. I didn’t care in the slightest as I rushed forward and embraced her. Deep down, I’d begun to grow truly afraid that I might not get to see her again before the dinner. While I didn’t actually think Petre would kill me outright this evening, it was a risk, and if it happened, then my greatest regret—aside from getting murdered—would have been not getting to tell Krystal goodbye.

“Yeah, I missed you, too,” she said, from deep within my tight hug. “Sorry, day’s activities took a lot longer than I thought they would.”

“It’s more than fine.” Pulling her through the door, I closed it, and then allowed our bodies to part. Much as I wanted to hold her, getting her up to speed was the first priority. “There’s so much to tell you, and not much time to do it. Firstly, the House of Turva is sending—”

“Petre, who Lillian told all about you, and you boys are having a formal sit-down to discuss the new situation.” Krystal grinned—that wildcat smile that spoke of danger and secrets not yet seen. “Who do you think you’re dating? I’ve got my ear to the ground about everything that even thinks it might have fangs right now. And yes, that includes your Hail Mary with Asha, too. I’m fucking air, Freddy. I’m everywhere.”

“So . . . you already know everything?” I plopped onto the bed, a sudden rush of anxiety leaving my body. I’d been bracing for this all day, nearly as much as the meeting itself, and she’d already found out everything on her own.

“You, my little overreaching boyfriend, decided to found your own vampire clan. Thanks to a lot of loopholes and paperwork, you even managed to gain temporary authorization until a full review can be conducted. Still, it’s enough to give you some treaty protection for now, and you’re hoping that will be enough to keep the House of Turva at bay.”

“Actually, there’s a bit more to it than that,” I said.

“Geez, Freddy, I told you I’m in the loop. Do we need to sit here and hash out every freaking detail? By my count, you’ve only got a little bit until your guests show up, and you should be ready to meet them when they arrive. Don’t start something this important off by slighting another clan.” She leaned down and poked my poorly knotted tie gently. “And what’s with all this get-up?”

“You’ve seen me in a suit before,” I reminded her.

“Yeah, for the job, or when we went somewhere swanky. Why are you dressing up for these shitbags?” Her hands moved quickly, pulling apart the tie’s interwoven areas until it hung limply on both sides of my neck once more.

“I thought it would be only proper. I want to show them respect.”

“This isn’t a business meeting, Freddy. It’s a pissing contest. Don’t try to impress them, make them try to impress you. Dress in a way that’s comfortable, familiar, and lets these bastards know exactly who you are.” Krystal yanked the tie off, crumpled it up, and tossed it into the corner.

“You think I should stick with the khakis and sweater vest?”

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” She leaned in, kissing me firmly and running her hands through the hair I’d just recently finished combing. “Go meet these people as yourself. That’s my advice. And I hope you’ll take it, since we both know you’re about to insist I not join you for dinner.”

“Did Charlotte tell you?” I rose from the bed as I spoke, beginning to unbutton the crisp white shirt and eyeing my closet for something with a bit more life to it. I’d long ago brought a small stash of clothes, given how often I slept over at the manor, and it was preparation that paid off as I surveyed my choices.

“She offered to serve Arch and I meals in the sitting room, so that was a bit of a tip-off,” Krystal replied. “By the way, I accepted the offer, but he didn’t. If this is a formal meeting between the representatives of two vampire houses, an agent has the right to sit in and bear witness. That should make sure things stay peaceful, and Arch has a long-standing reputation for remaining fair and unbiased, so they won’t have any room to bitch.”

“Will Petre be okay with that?” I found a light blue cotton button-down and tossed it over my torso.

“Who gives a shit? Part of the fun of being an agent is getting to swing our dicks around when the occasion strikes. It’s all in the treaties, so Arch is allowed to be there. Which means if Petre has an issue, he’ll take it up with Arch, and no vampire lives to be that old by being stupid enough to pick that kind of fight.”

With the shirt on, I swapped out my dark suit pants for khakis, and then topped it all with a gray sweater vest. I did feel more comfortable, more like myself, and it seemed to have helped with the nerves. Turning to face Krystal, I held out my arms and did a quick spin. “How do I look?”

“Like Freddy. Like the man I love. Like someone who’s going to make it work tonight.” Just like that, she was across the room and kissing me once more, though this time, she left my hair alone.

“You’re really okay with all of this?” I asked once more, just to be certain. “It’s going to change things, you know.”

“Aren’t you the one who told Albert about how everything changes, and sometimes, it makes our lives a lot better?” Krystal reminded me. “I’m not super thrilled with the plan overall, and I’ve got a plane on standby if it’s needed, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little impressed. You went to all this trouble, just to avoid running.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to run,” I told her. “I just didn’t want to leave so much behind.”

“Well, then, get your cute ass down there and go fight for your town.” She smacked me on the butt and pointed me toward the door. “Oh! And Charlotte is doing place settings; make sure you get the seat designated for you. I left you the extra special cutlery, just in case.”

“You realize this is supposed to be a peaceful discussion, right?” I asked.

“Freddy, if you don’t come ready for war, then you’ll never manage to bargain your way to peace. Now scoot, I’ve had a long day, and I need a shower. When it’s all wrapped up, I’ll come join you, and we can go from there.” With that, she disappeared into the attached bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind her.

I took the cue and headed downstairs, two envelopes of documents tucked securely under my arm. With a brief detour to the dining room to drop the papers off at the seat with a white placard bearing my name, I headed to the front hall, where my guests would soon be arriving. Lillian was already there, as was the old woman version of Charlotte. The former was wearing a new outfit, and she gave me a discerning glance as I walked in.

“Didn’t feel like dressing up?”

“This is a business meeting, and you’ve seen that this is how I dress for business.” Though I expected to feel a wave of self-doubt over the fact that I’d gone too casual, I actually weathered the comment decently. Krystal was right, feeling centered with myself and who I was mattered more than impressing these people.

Arch stepped in from outside, the lingering wisps of cigarette smoke still clinging to his form. “Looks like your guests are here. Three in the car that’s pulling up, no idea if more are lying in wait on the road.”

Though, from most people, such thoughts might have seemed paranoid, with Arch, I knew it was just him thinking tactically. He strode past us, on track for the dining room, where he’d no doubt be waiting to oversee the meeting. It was quite comforting, actually, to know he’d be there. I’d never really expected the night to devolve into violence—Petre seemed the type to be more cunning than that—but having Arch on hand made it all the less likely.

I stood as straight as possible while the three figures made their way up the porch stairs, finally pushing through the front door. Petre was flanked on either side by thick-necked vampires dressed in impeccably tailored dark suits. They were tall and strong, likely nurtured by a healthy diet of therian blood. Despite the size difference, Petre himself still stood out the most, his pale blue eyes taking in every detail, like he was deciding which nearby knick-knack would be best suited for killing us all.

“Mr. Fletcher, a pleasure to see you once more. I trust your new employee is working out well?”

“Quite well. She’s been a tremendous help, and I think she’ll only grow more useful as she’s trained.” We exchanged bows, and I looked to the hulking slabs of undead muscle near him. “And may I ask your friends’ names?”

“They are unimportant, only here to assist me with details. Please, ignore them. I try to whenever possible.” Petre smiled, his fangs just the slightest bit extended. He was enjoying this, and didn’t mind letting me know. I hoped he kept his good humor when the situation changed. “I must say, Mr. Fletcher, I’ve been doing my research, and you are quite the interesting character. Tell me, what do you consider a higher honor, having won the esteem of a dragon, or having bedded an agent?”

“Ah, right, the rumors. Those do come up on occasion. That’s part of why I called you here for a meeting. But how rude of me, let’s head to the dining room. No point in standing about the hall when there’s comfort and drink to be had.” I motioned down the hallway, hoping I’d kept the temptation to sneer at him off my face when he talked about bedding Krystal. This was the game I had to play if I wanted to win the right to stay in my town. I wouldn’t let him beat me so soon.

The night was just beginning, and I had a few cards of my own to surprise him with.

8.

To his credit, Petre waited until the drinks were poured and a plate of appetizers was set on the table before getting down to business. Somehow, a part of me doubted he’d have shown such courtesy if Arch hadn’t been sitting there, helping himself to the bruschetta while the rest of us stewed in anticipation for what was to come. Once the agent was eating, however, Petre clearly felt the time had come.