As Lie The Dead (20 page)

My elbow was already starting to scab over, so I left it alone. The wound in my stomach was less than an inch long, the edges already come together. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, leaving only a dull ache behind. It hurt to bend over, but I wasn’t vomiting blood or pissing red. Luck seemed to be on my side.

Isleen was waiting in the outer room, perched regally on one of the double beds. I smelled the pizza before I located the box on the room’s outdated wooden table, cozied up to a chilled six-pack of cola. Beyond it, a five-dollar electric clock announced the turn of the hour: seven
P.M.
I was in the trash longer than I’d thought.

“I was uncertain what you would want to eat,” Isleen said.

“Well, beer would have completed the stereotype.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Thank you.”

I dug in without waiting for permission and burned my tongue on a slice of steaming pepperoni. It didn’t matter that I hated black olives and green peppers on my pie; I just ate. Isleen wrinkled her nose in my general direction, and I realized how kind it was of her to order the pizza. Bloods are violently allergic to plants in the
Allium
genus—onions, shallots, leeks, and chives. And garlic, the smell of which wafted off the pizza pie in waves. I’d even heard stories of some Bloods having sneezing fits around certain lily plants, a close relative.

“I need to talk to Wyatt,” I said between bites. “It’s been hours since we last spoke.”

“He has already received word of your safety.”

“Oh.” I still wanted to talk to him, almost as badly as I wanted to talk to Phin. Things were happening outside of my periphery, and I hated it. Someone had to bounce the ball back into my court, and soon. “What did you tell him about Phin?”

“He did not ask.”

“You didn’t tell him Phin stabbed me?”

She inclined her head. “Passing along such information might have biased Truman against Phineas and prevented their working together in the future. Unless you prefer their antagonism?”

A lot of words to basically say, “I didn’t want them pissed at each other.”

I snapped open a cola, gulped some, and then started on my second slice of pizza. “So what do you know about this group meeting? I didn’t even get names before lights-out.”

“The leader is a man named Leonard Call.”

“Is he the one with the black fedora?”

She shook her head. “I am uncertain of that man’s identity. According to Eleri’s intelligence, Call has been organizing this militia for the better part of a month. Feeling out interest among the various communities, testing the actual bloodlust of those who would join him in battle against humans and their allies.”

“That sounds a lot like what Tovin was doing, getting the Halfies and goblins on his side.”

“Yes, but I can draw no clear line between Tovin and Call, nor find any reason why a human would—”

“Wait, what?”

Isleen’s sharp features seemed to soften. “Leonard Call is human.”

My mind reeled. The spicy pizza in my hand was no longer tempting. I tossed the half slice back into the box and wiped my hands on a paper napkin. Even the soda tasted flat. I missed the trash, and my empty can rattled to the floor. Balling my fists to keep them from shaking, I sat on the bed opposite Isleen.

“Who is this asshole in real life?” I asked.

“No one, it seems.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that no records for a man named Leonard Call exist. It is possible the name is an alias.”

“Or the gremlins erased his info.” Just like they’d done for Chalice Frost, removing all computer and paper evidence of her existence. Wiping her off the face of the world, so I could move more freely within it.

“A possibility, of course.” One she didn’t seem to believe.

“How long has Eleri been in his good graces?”

“About a day.”

“A day? You’ve been investigating this for a month but just now got someone inside?”

“No, Eleri has been with them for a day.” Isleen stiffened, pale hands clasping in her lap. Her body seemed to vibrate from the inside out. “Our first spy was not completely trusted. As you know, my people are very loyal to their Families. Betrayal is a grave sin, often unforgivable. Udell was unable to convince Call of his loyalty, and he was being left out of their plans.”

“So you had Eleri kill him?”

“Yes.” She had always hidden her emotions well, but at that moment, a brief wave of sadness crashed over her. It was gone quickly, just a rogue wave, but it had left its mark. “She revealed him as one of my spies and killed him on the spot. Her place in the Family is much lower than that of Udell, which was my mistake. Discord in the lower ranks is easier to accept than in those above.”

My heart went out to her with as much sympathy as I could generate for a vampire. “Udell was family?”

Her nostrils flared. “Of course.”

“No, I mean family-family.”

“He was Istral’s mate.”

Istral, the sister I’d seen murdered by goblins last week. She had died screaming, from ammunition created to protect the Triads, without Max lifting a finger to help. Max. Even thinking the gargoyle’s name infuriated me. I’d once considered him a friend, only to have him step casually aside while I was kidnapped by Kelsa and her goblin horde.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

She nodded. “As am I. I have lost my sister and now her husband, and I have very little to show for these sacrifices.”

“You’ve got a direct line to the bad guys.” No reaction. “And you saved my life because of it.” Nothing. She did sullen better than I did. “Well, I don’t know how much Eleri told you, but Phineas is setting himself up as a traitor to the Triads. He told Call that we know about tomorrow night’s meet and are going to stake it out, both of which are true.”

“Eleri imparted something similar when we spoke. Call’s supposed plan is simple, but potentially deadly.”

“Lure the Triads in and then attack, right?”

“Precisely.”

“So we need to outflank them before they get us.”

“Correct.”

This was getting more complicated by the minute. “Oh, what a tangled web we weave,” I muttered.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. So the best thing for us to do is continue our surveillance like normal, so no one in this little Dreg militia suspects we’re onto them, and hope no one gets hurt.”

“Sacrifices are inevitable in a time of war.”

I started. “We aren’t at war.”

“Are we not? Consider your path since the night your friends turned their backs on you, Evangeline. Events are in motion that shall lead to a conflict greater than any of us can truly foresee.”

“You read that in your crystal ball?”

Her smile was cold. “I have walked this Earth for two centuries, child, and in those decades have never seen the level of hostility between our species as I have these past ten years. And not simply humans and vampires but among all of the others, including the Light Ones, who choose to hide underground.”

I could have told her the Light Ones—sprites and gnomes and dryads and pixies—hid underground so they could protect a gateway that kept demons from spilling over into our world. But if she didn’t already know about First Break, it wasn’t my job to educate her.

“So what?” I asked. “You think this is some sort of plot ten years in the making, that’s only now coming to fruition, and we just happen to be stuck in the middle of the fucking thing?”

She raised a single slim eyebrow. “You believe it is coincidence that the Triads were officially chartered ten years ago?”

I stood and heat flared through my aching stomach, protesting the sudden movement. But it was the only way I could tower over her—as long as she stayed sitting. “Are you saying this fuck-fest is the fault of the Triads?”

“Look at their history, Evangeline, and then make up your own mind. If they are at fault for, or simply a reaction to, a growing threat.”

Yeah, I’d do that, sure. Number sixty-eight on today’s To Do list. A list that was only growing. “If I thought I had time to make up my own mind, I wouldn’t be asking you for clarification.”

“I have none for you. I returned to the city only six years ago, after a two-decade absence. Talk to the people who were here, not to those of us who were not.”

She meant Wyatt and Rufus, the two most tenured Handlers in the city. Fat chance I’d get the answers I wanted from the brass, even if I could track them down in the next two or three days—and given my streak of luck so far, that was looking less and less likely. Kismet, Baylor, Willemy, and the others had come around within the last seven years. Longer than I’d been a Hunter, but they hadn’t been around ten years ago.

Hell.

“What are you thinking?” Isleen asked.

“That I need to go talk to Rufus again.”

“Why Rufus?”

“Because sometimes a person facing certain death will be more honest about things he’d rather not discuss.”

She nodded. “You are learning.”

I snorted. “Well, all this investigative bullshit is new to me. I’m not a detective, I’m a Hunter. They point and I kill it, not question it to death.”

“Occasionally the acquisition of answers requires a lighter touch.”

“Like I said, not my job.”

“It seems to have become your job. And if you wish to protect your friends and your species, I suggest you learn quickly.”

“Why do you care?”

“As I have stated, Evangeline, we vampires are content with our place in society. The unrest is not of our design; however, we do wish to assist in settling it.”

“Terrific.”

A muffled clanging of music trickled into the room. I listened. Pinpointed it in the bathroom. Cell phone. I dashed in, found it in the back pocket of my discarded jeans, and flipped it open.

“Stone,” I said.

“Evy?” Aurora’s voice was soft, practically a whisper.

Just what I didn’t need. “Yeah?”

“Can I talk to Phineas, please?”

I’d have loved to talk to Phin my own damned
self, but the quiver in her lyrical voice stopped me from snapping at her. Kept me from saying anything about the last few hours. “He’s not here with me, Aurora. What is it?”

“Can you come home, please?”

“I’m a little busy right now.”

“Leo scares me, Evy. He’s scaring Joseph, too. Joseph thinks we should leave and find somewhere else to stay, but Phin promised we’d be safe here.”

I barely resisted the impulse to kick the bathroom wall. “What’s he doing that’s scaring you?”

“He broke a glass.”

Not exactly an apocalyptic event. “I’m sure it was an acci—”

“He threw it against the wall.”

“He what?”

“We were watching a program on television, trying to pass the time. He never sat still, kept fidgeting and tapping his feet. Then he just stood up and threw his glass at the wall. He yelled at Joseph for trying to clean it up. Then he went into his son’s bedroom, slammed the door, and has been making noise in there ever since.”

My anger flared white-hot. “What sort of noise?”

“Banging, mostly. He swears a lot, too.”

Join the fucking club.

I stalked out of the bathroom and stopped halfway to the door. “Stay put. I’ll be there soon.” I shut the phone and slid it into my pocket. “I need a ride,” I said to Isleen.

“Arlen can drop you anywhere you wish.”

“If Eleri gives you anything else on this meet—”

“I will contact you.”

I scribbled my phone number on the motel’s complementary notepad, mentally making a list of all the ways to smack Leo around when I got back to the apartment.

7:30
P.M.

I stormed into the apartment and was greeted by a string of muffled curse words and epithets that would have humbled me on my very best day. I nearly slammed the edge of the door into Aurora, who had chosen the corner of the entrance as her nesting ground. She was curled up on the floor among pillows and blankets, arms curved protectively around her swollen belly. I almost asked, when it occurred to me she’d chosen the spot farthest from Leo’s closed-door tirade.

Joseph still sat on the couch, in the same spot I’d left him. The television was low, set on some program with a laugh track that neither was watching.

“How long’s he been going off like that?” I asked, shutting the door behind me.

“Twenty minutes or so,” Joseph said. “Right about the time Aurora called you. The man is unstable.”

“The man’s lost his son, Joseph.”

“Yes, but he doesn’t yet know his son won’t return. Continuing to hold out false hope will only feed his anger.”

Like I didn’t know that. “I can’t tell him the truth. It’s against protocol.”

He cocked his head to the side. “I was under the impression you no longer worked for the Triads.”

“I don’t, but I also don’t have a better story about how he died.” The shouting and rustling sounds ended, so I lowered my voice. “He can’t know the truth.”

“You may have little choice, for the man’s sanity.”

I grunted. It was the most Joseph had spoken since showing up this morning, and all he could do was criticize and offer bad suggestions? I liked him better as a mute. Ignoring that elephant for a while, I crouched next to Aurora. My stomach ached. “You okay?”

She nodded, her round eyes searching mine. “Why isn’t Phineas with you?”

“We had to split up for a while. He’s following a lead while I follow a different one.”

“Okay.”

Her absolute faith in me was astonishing. “I’ll take care of Leo. You just relax and stuff.”

I listened at the bedroom door before going in, but the current source of sound was somewhere far from it. I didn’t bother knocking, just turned the knob and pushed, and was presented with a hurricane. Clothes strewn from dresser and closet, sheets off the bed, books on the floor, desk turned inside out. A handful of those plastic under-bed storage containers were emptied of their contents—photos, knickknacks, old
papers, a lifetime of paraphernalia hidden from prying eyes—as were half a dozen shoe boxes.

In the midst of the mess was Leo, slumped in the desk chair, shoulders drooped, turned toward the room’s only window. I half expected the glass to be broken. As I gazed at the destruction, my temper soared. I flushed, fury lighting up my face in a way it had never done in my old body.