A Plain-Dealing Villain (14 page)

“Corman was right,” Caitlin said, standing beside me in the Bast Club’s sprawling lounge. A veil of burgundy light washed over us, carried on a lilting serenade from a quartet that played over unseen speakers from every corner of the room.

“About what?” I asked.

“It looks like Jules Verne built a brothel.”

“It’s a little excessive, huh?”

Caitlin blinked, looking around wide-eyed.

“What? No, I
love
it,” she said. “They just need to fix the music. The ambiance is screaming for some OMD or Depeche Mode.”

I didn’t see Trevor Manderley anywhere, and that suited me just fine. Amy was in full effect, though, holding court for a small gaggle of human and cambion onlookers as she demonstrated a ragged-looking poppet from her seemingly bottomless briefcase.

“That’s Amy Xun,” I said to Caitlin, nodding her way. “Local black marketeer. She wants the Judas Coin, bad, and I gather she’s not confident of her chances in the tournament. She’s looking to buy it outright from whoever wins.”

“Could be useful,” Caitlin murmured. “Anyone else I should know about?”

There was, and she was coming our way holding a tall carrot-tinged Bloody Mary that matched her hair dye.

“Mr. Vegas,” Freddie said, flashing a smile. “You out-of-towners are multiplying like rabbits. Who’s your lady friend?”

“Freddie, Caitlin. Caitlin, this is Fredrika Vinter.”

Caitlin’s eyes got even bigger.

“As in,
House
of Vinter?” she asked.

Freddie beamed. “The one and only,
dahling
. You’ve heard of me?”

“Heard of you? Half the clothes in my wardrobe have your label. I stumbled across your work two years ago, when Pierre Foss did that Fashion Week profile on you for
Vogue
, and I’ve been a fan ever since.”

“Foss?” Freddie waved her hand in dismissal. “That was a hatchet job. He said I was terminally trapped in the eighties.”

That
, I thought as I looked between them,
explains everything
.

Caitlin nodded. “I see you as more…influenced by a keen grasp of important historical trends, yet finding your own aesthetic voice.”

“Something tells me you two have a lot to talk about,” I said. “Why don’t I leave you to it? I’m going to grab a drink at the bar and poke around a little.”

Freddie locked her arm around Caitlin’s. “Come right this way. Let’s find someplace to talk where everyone can see how
amazing
we are, while you tell me which of my designs you like the most and why.”

I squeezed in at the crowded bar, shoulder to shoulder with a yellow-eyed cambion biker and a rail-thin woman with short-cropped hair and a silver ankh pendant at her throat. I waited to catch the bartender’s attention, lost in a sea of swirling psychic currents. The Tiger’s Garden back home could get loud, on a magical level, but nothing like this place. I suppose it helped when you
knew
all the minds you were brushing up against.

Maybe that was why I was taken by surprise when a slender hand clamped down on my forearm like a drowning victim grabbing for a life preserver. I turned to find a goddess at my shoulder. Delicate cheekbones and a curling bob of golden hair, lush lips painted cherry red, and eyes so pale blue they made me think of stained glass. I knew I hadn’t seen her before. A face like that, you don’t forget.

“You have to help me,” the woman said in a breathless whisper.

“I’m sorry,” I started to say, “I don’t think we’ve—”

Her hand squeezed harder. “
Please
. He’s going to kill me if you don’t do something!”

I didn’t like the sound of that. She tugged my arm, pulling me away from the bar. The woman looked like she was around twenty-one, but that was only skin deep. Now I could see the black-diamond aura pulsing in my second sight. The mark of an incarnate demon.

Not a cold aura, though. A warm one. Like Caitlin’s.

“Who?” I said. “Who’s going to kill you?”

She shot a glance over her shoulder then looked back to me, her eyes wide with terror. “
Royce
. I shouldn’t even be talking to you, but you have a reputation for being able to help people and I’m just so
scared
—”

I took her hand. “It’s all right. Deep breaths, okay? Nobody’s going to hurt you, not while I’m here. Just take some deep breaths, calm down, and tell me everything.”

She pulled me across the room, leading me to one of the empty conversation nooks. We sat side by side on the plush red velvet divan, and she clung to my hand as she talked.

“My use-name is Nadine. I’m with the Flowers. I mean, I’m nobody in the court, but…Royce has a human spy, who’s
obsessed
with me. I rejected his advances, and I just found out he’s, he’s—”

Her voice hitched. I gently squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her. “It’s okay. Nadine, listen, it’s going to be okay. I’ll protect you.”

“He’s fabricated evidence,” she told me, her eyes glistening, “tons of it, ‘proving’ I’m a traitor. He’s here, tonight, and he’s given me an hour to change my mind. If I don’t do what he wants,
anything
he wants, he’ll go straight to Royce, and Royce will believe him. He’ll
kill
me! Y-you believe me, don’t you?”

Of course I did. The question was how to stop him? No violence inside the club. I could lure him out, come up with some pretense, then what? Drop him fast, drag the body to one of those Dumpsters around the corner—

“Now that must be a world record,” Royce said, dropping into the chair beside us. “You’ve known that woman for all of three minutes, and unless I’m mistaken, you’re strongly considering murdering someone to protect her. For hell’s sake, man, get ahold of yourself. Or
can
you?”

I blinked. Jarred from my thoughts, I tried to pull my hand away, but Nadine held it in an iron grip. She stroked my wrist with her other hand, her fingers sliding under the sleeve of my shirt, gently massaging. It felt good. Too good.

“Don’t pull away,” she whispered. Her aura of fear dissipated, replaced with a soothing gentleness reflected in her voice. “You don’t want me to stop touching you. You
like
this.”

I did.

“Introductions are in order,” Royce said. “Daniel, please meet Mistress Nadine, Grand Matriarch of the House of Dead Roses, the eldest daughter of Lust in the Court of Night-Blooming Flowers. Nadine, why don’t you tell our human friend what you’re doing to him right now?”

She had the softest, saddest smile I’d ever seen.

“Right now,” she said, “your hypothalamus is flooding your brain with a chemical called oxytocin. It works to promote feelings of bonding with your mate, as well as trust and contentment. The dose is far, far higher than what your brain could produce on its own. Your body is telling you that you can trust me. That you are safe to trust me. That you are right to trust me, because you want to be with me. Isn’t that so?”

Her voice took on a lulling cadence, a hypnotic rhythm that pulled my legs out from under me.

“I’m also dosing you with a flood of endorphins. Endorphins are a natural morphine created by your body, and they can have all kinds of fascinating effects when properly put to use. Given enough time, I could train you to associate fear and pain with the heights of pleasure. But I would never do that, of course. I care about you. I’m only doing this because Royce ordered me to. You believe me, don’t you?”

I did. I believed every word she said, even though I knew she was lying.

“I’ll level with you,” Royce told me. “Nadine, here? She scares
me
a little. She’s really a nasty piece of work. You should see what she likes to do with a pair of scissors. Now, she’s got this pet theory that your species—who she normally refers to as ‘filth-eating monkeys,’ by the way—was created by Lucifer to serve the Choir of Lust. It’s why she can tinker with your nervous system just by touching your skin. Me, I think that’s a bunch of hokum.”

“That’s not true at all,” Nadine cooed. “I care about humanity. We all do. I care about
you
. More than anyone in the Court of Jade Tears does. We cherish our human subjects. You should come and work for Prince Malphas. You should pledge yourself to
me
.”

Royce crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, enjoying every second of this.

“Bad idea, sport,” he said amiably. “I mean, you
could
do that, if you fancy being dragged down to Nadine’s tower in hell and suffering a few hundred years of unimaginable torture and degradation until she gets sick of you and finds another victim to play with.
Or
, now here’s a great idea I just had, you could open your eyes and grasp the point of this little exercise.”

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. I knew he was telling the truth. I knew she was telling the truth, too. I sat there, impaled on the paradox, turned to stone by Nadine’s kindly gaze.

“What,” I said through gritted teeth, “is the point?”

“That all she had to do,” Royce said, holding up a finger, “is touch you. Everybody knows a succubus’s
kiss
can be more addictive than heroin, if she wants it to be.
That’s
no secret. That’s the crude magic, the battering ram at the doors of your soul. But the elders of the Choir of Lust, the truly skilled ones…they can be subtle. Out of idle curiosity, when you first met Caitlin, how many times did she casually touch you?”

I stood in my circle of salt, drenched in gore, while Caitlin slowly tore Artie Kaufman to pieces in front of me. My heart pounded as she stepped into the circle and pressed one bloody fingertip to my lips.

Shh.

She curled her fingers in my hair, stroking the back of my neck, as she pulled me in for a kiss.

And I wanted her. Amid all the carnage and horror, I wanted her.

Nadine leaned close and whispered, “I don’t like saying nice things about my enemies, but Caitlin’s better at this than I am.”

“We’re trying to help you,” Royce told me. “Scout’s honor, sport. You’re fighting for the wrong team. This is your official wake-up call.”

“The truth is,” Nadine purred into my ear, “since the moment we met, all I’ve been thinking about is you, me, and my favorite pair of scissors. I think I’d start by gelding you, like the vile animal you are. And despite knowing this? Despite hearing me tell you exactly what I think of you and how much I’d enjoy making you suffer? You still don’t want me to stop touching you. You still
like
me.”

I did. I hated myself for it, but I did.
I’m just misunderstanding her
, I thought.
She’s not really like that. She’s just saying that because Royce told her to. If the two of us went somewhere alone together, away from him, I bet we could sort this all out
.

Nadine cupped her free hand around the back of my neck, massaging gently, like Caitlin had a few hours before.

“You look so confused,” she said, sympathetic. “I could fix that. One kiss, and you’ll never be confused again. Wouldn’t that be nice? A life of absolute clarity, of purpose.”

“Ooh,” Royce said with a grin. “I really wouldn’t do that, sport. That would be a bad, bad life decision.”

“He knows that,” Nadine snapped at Royce, frowning. Then she turned back to me, her expression softening, and took her hand off my neck. Now she stroked her nails under my chin, batting her eyelashes at me. “Doesn’t he? Oh, he
knows
how unwise it would be, but he still wants to say yes.”

“Let go of me,” I croaked, no will behind the words. It wasn’t what I wanted to say. Wasn’t what she wanted me to say. Same thing.

Nadine whispered in my ear, “Beg me for a kiss.” Her voice was a gust of silky smoke, slithering into my ear, coiling around my brain. “
Beg
me, you filthy little worm.”

I bit down on my tongue until I tasted blood.

A shadow loomed over us. Freddie, cradling a freshly poured martini. From the flush on her cheeks, it wasn’t the second or the third drink she’d had tonight.

“And who exactly,” she asked, loudly enough to draw glances from across the room, “is the skank holding hands with my new BFF’s boyfriend?”

Nadine let go of me, standing up like a shot. “
What
did you call me?”

Freddie looked her up and down, gesticulating with her glass as she spoke. “On further reflection, I’m downgrading your rating to ‘Gucci-drone tacky-ass bitch.’ You may resubmit your application for evaluation in six months.”

That got Royce on his feet, too. “Mind your tongue while you still have one, Vinter. This woman is an esteemed noble—”

“Who, her?” Freddie said, jerking her glass in Nadine’s direction. Her martini sloshed over the rim, splashing Nadine’s dress.

A strangled yowl rose from the depths of Nadine’s throat, a sound like a dozen tortured cats in a burlap sack, as her eyes turned to swirls of molten copper.

“
You
,” she hissed, flashing a mouth lined with shark’s teeth. Around us, the shadows responded. Congealing on the walls, growing thick and furry, sprouting legs as they skittered across the ceiling.

Royce saw them too. He grabbed Nadine’s arm, yanking her back a step.

“Not
here
,” he said, giving her arm a shake. “No fighting in the club.”

“Do you have any idea,” Nadine growled, “who I
am
?”

Freddie rolled her eyes. “I just told you who you are. You know, you can get some help for that attention-deficit problem. While you’re at the clinic, see if they can get you a personality transplant.”

Nadine flexed her hand. Bones cracked and elongated, fingers curling as her nails became claws of black iron. The shadows on the wall bulged and took on three dimensions, a curtain of hairy fist-sized spiders with legs bent to pounce.

“
Nadine
,” Royce snapped. “
Not here
. That’s an order.”

Nadine took a deep, shuddering breath. She looked down at her drenched dress, then back at us.

“Later then,” she hissed as she stormed off, “for
both
of you.”

“You’d best mind yourself,” Royce told Freddie. “Don’t forget who I am and who I serve. I represent hell’s law in—”

Freddie’s index finger shot up. She wagged it at him. “I’m not a demon, don’t answer to you, don’t care, buh-bye.”

Royce gritted his teeth and looked my way.

“I hope you take my little demonstration to heart, Daniel. Your ‘lover’ is using you. Playing your heart like an instrument, like my Nadine did, just now. When you grow tired of being an abused pawn, remember: you would find yourself welcome in
my
court as an honored guest.”

Freddie snorted and tossed back what little remained in her glass. “Buh-
bye
, Royce. Don’t make me say it a third time.”

“Oh? And what if I do?”

I felt change in the air, even before the light around us shifted to faded blues and blacks. Not the club’s shadows now. Hers. Chill washed over me, the chill of a famine winter, and my breath puffed out on a curlicue of frost. Even though I’d eaten a full meal a few hours ago, my stomach growled and knitted itself in knots of hunger as if I’d been starving for days.

“I’ve always wondered,” Freddie said, her voice slow and soft, “what the flesh of an incarnate demon tastes like. Maybe I’ll get to find out.”

Royce’s eyebrow twitched. His lips curled in a defiant sneer, but he still took a step backward.

“I have a tournament to prepare for,” he said. “No time for this nonsense.”

As soon as he left, the light returned and the warmth flooded back. Freddie stood over me, her bubbly boozy mask firmly back in place.

“I am surrounded,” she proclaimed, “by tacky-ass bitches. They’re all around us, and they don’t even know they’re tacky. Hey, are you okay? You look sick.”

I shook my head, slow. “I’m not okay.”

“I’ll go get Caitlin,” she said but stopped when I held up one empty hand.

“No. Don’t do that. I need to be alone right now.”

*     *     *

Alone didn’t last. I suppose, on some level, I didn’t want it to. Alone meant time to think. Time to think too much.

Caitlin found me in the gaming parlor, eyeing the Judas Coin as I circled the glass display case. I recognized the sound of her high heels, clicking their way toward me from the door.

“Any luck?” she asked.

“Ran into Royce.”

“And?”

I turned and shrugged. “Not sure. He didn’t ask me about the coin, or let on that he knew about my talk with Scudder, but he did try to mess with my head a little.”

She frowned. “What did he say to you?”

I waved off the question and started walking to the door. Caitlin fell into step with me.

“I think he wants to recruit me,” I said, opting for half the truth instead of a whole lie. “Or make me think he does, anyway.”

“Either is possible. The Flowers have had you on their radar ever since that whole mess with the Redemption Choir. Winning you to Prince Malphas’s side—or taking you off the board—would make up for the embarrassment they suffered.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t care for my coworkers.” I paused, a question on my lips, not sure if I should give it voice.

What’s the problem?
I asked myself.
Are you afraid of what she’ll say? Or afraid of what she won’t?

“Royce had a buddy with him. Woman calling herself Nadine. Does that ring any—”

Caitlin grabbed my arm. Hard. She stopped in her tracks at the parlor door and turned me to face her.

“Nadine is
here
?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Pretty, blond, has a Taylor Swift thing going on? Hobbies include moonlight walks on the beach and cutting people up?”

She didn’t say another word—and didn’t let go of my arm—until she’d hustled me out of the building and into the parking lot. A damp chill hung in the air, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones. We walked through the lot, past the odd assortment of old junkers and high-end sports cars, and toward the sounds of traffic one block over.

“Did she touch you?”

“Caitlin, what are you so upset about—”

Her fingers clenched hard enough to leave a bruise.

“
Did she touch you
?”

I didn’t want to lie. And in that moment, hearing the growl at the edge of her voice, I realized something that chilled me deeper than the weather.

I didn’t want to lie, but I was afraid to tell the truth.

Now it was my turn to stand my ground. I stopped walking and looked her in the eye.

“What’s going on, Caitlin? I’m not moving until I get a straight answer.”

She let go of me, her hands falling limp to her sides. She sighed.

“What’s going on,” she said, “is that this situation just became exponentially more dangerous. Nadine leads the Dead Roses. They’re a sect, I suppose you could say, inside the Court of Night-Blooming Flowers. Half monastic order, half training academy.”

“What kind of training?”

“Spies. Assassins. Seducers and killers. Nadine’s agents are the backbone of Prince Malphas’s intelligence service. Few in number, but bloody near unstoppable. The Roses’ regimen, you see, is…beyond cruel. For every fifty aspirants, only one survives to graduation—and usually with the blood of the other forty-nine staining her claws and teeth. In Nadine’s house, you’re either the best and brightest, or you’re meat for their table.”

“So what does this have to do with her touching me?”

Caitlin bit her bottom lip.

“Certain members of my choir,” she said slowly, choosing her words one by one, “the eldest, and most skilled, can manipulate natural energies in ways that others can only dream of. Nadine is arguably the greatest daughter of lust alive, and she’s earned her reputation. She’s been known to…subvert people with nothing more than a gentle caress. I was concerned that Royce might have used her to get at you.”

I stood in the heart of a verbal minefield.

“I always thought,” I said, stepping lightly, “you had to kiss someone to get into their heads. You, collectively, I mean.”

“Most do, yes.”

Ask her what SHE can do. Go on, ask her
.

“So,” I said, “Nadine…she’s extraordinary?”

“Let me put it this way: you know the myth of Helen of Troy? The woman so desired she launched a thousand ships and brought a nation to war?”

“Sure,” I said.

Caitlin gave me a wistful half smile. “Though it’s never been proven, rumor has it, that was Nadine in disguise. She cared nothing for the love of Menelaus or Paris. She just started a war to see if she
could
. Some say she’s even older, that she was one of the original daughters of Lilith. Suffice to say you’ll rarely meet a more dangerous member of my choir.”

“Rarely,” I echoed.
But you didn’t say never
.

“Rarely,” she said.