Blood Hunt (9 page)

“Horrible,” I said again.

“She's really a very lovely person.”

“She's not bitter?” I forced myself to ask. My body seemed to have become one with the mud, and even my lips, which were above board, wanted to go slack with relaxation.

“Yes, some. But the whole world is her family, in a sense. People may not call on her much anymore, but she still feels every birth, provides strength when she can. Unlike Set, she's been called on in many incarnations in many different cultures. Procreation is universal. Her worship was once immense. All that doesn't just go up in smoke.”

“So she's strong?”

“I'd say that if anyone was made to endure, it is she. But you do know she's not his only guard, yes? Anat and Astarte take their turns as well.”

“Tell me about them,” I said, almost dreamily. The peace of the mud was taking its toll. I had to shake it off, but shaking seemed downright undesirable.

“Sister wives,” she said.

I raised a brow and a cucumber went with it. She'd used that expression before, but it hadn't really penetrated. Did she mean it in the sense that they were actually sisters? And to Set or each other? Either way, it wasn't the shock it might be. Many ancient cultures and the pantheons that represented them were polygamous…or at least polyamorous. Many kept the dynasties all in the family. Bad idea from an inbreeding perspective, good for the maintenance and consolidation of wealth and power…assuming assassination stayed out of the mix.

Familial relationships aside, I couldn't see it. A single relationship was hard enough to maintain, even over the course of a human lifetime. I couldn't imagine the complications of a full house, especially for an eternity. The stresses that would build…

“Lovely,” I said. “All above reproach? None of his wives want to see him freed?”

Sigyn snorted. “See him dead, maybe. Freed? Not on your life.”

“Even if it meant they wouldn't have to play jailor any longer?”

“I think they rather enjoy it. Certainly more than having Set free to claim conjugal rights. And Anat and Astarte are much less gentle than Taweret. I'm quite certain they yank his chain, perhaps even wrap it around his neck from time to time,” she seemed to take a certain glee in that, which made me hope Hermes slept with one eye open. “But either way, I'm sure they're quite dedicated to keeping him bound.”

“Maybe you can arrange a visit for me? Just to see for myself.”

I heard Sigyn move, the mud sucking at her, and I forced myself to move as well…only far enough to slide a cucumber off one eye so that I could see what she was about. She sat up in her mud bath, cucumbers fallen into the muck, staring at me as though I'd grown a second head.

“Are you crazy?” she asked.

“Popular opinion says
yes
,” I quipped.

She didn't smile. “Set is a natural born killer. No, worse, he's an
un
naturally born killer. He ripped his way out of his mother's womb, and he never stopped tearing a path of destruction until the gods rose up against him and bound him in his chains. Taweret, Anat and Astarte, they are
goddesses
. You…you would be like Clarice in
Silence of the Lambs
, and you know how that ended.”

Yeah, Hannibal Lector had escaped to kill and kill again.

“Okay then…” My precog kicked me in the gut, doubling me over and making me lose both my cucumbers and my cool just as Sulis came running back into the room, shattering any lingering sense of peace.

“Come quickly,” she said, thrusting a huge towel at me, regardless of the fact that I couldn't catch it high enough to keep it from the mud. “There's been a horrible accident at Dynastic Studios. The police are asking that you come right away.”

My heart beat double-time, and I wrapped the towel around me, mud and all. “Who called?” I asked. “What accident?”

“A Detective Reyes called,” she said. “Accident on a film set. Five dead or injured. Carly took down the information.”

The hell with double-time. My heart stopped.

I didn't know what it meant that Reyes had called and not Armani. Was he hurt? Or…was it Apollo? He'd mentioned heading to a set to sign papers with Thalia Day. Could it be…

I frantically wiped the mud off with the towel, doing the best I could in under a second. I still felt the slime between my toes and in other regions, but I couldn't be bothered with them. I dropped the soiled towel to the ground, shrugged myself into the robe, wiped my face on its pristine white sleeve—pristine no more—and ran for the locker room, Sulis's protests ringing in my ears. I didn't care about her floors or her linens. I cared about my men. And murder.

Back in the locker room, I ran as quickly as possible through a shower that had only started to get warm by the time I shut off the water. I grabbed a new towel off a nearby shelf and finished up with that, sure I'd be finding mud later in my unmentionables, but too worried to care. I hustled to my locker, jumped into my cami and slacks, grabbed my jacket and bolted for the front desk.

The perky girl from earlier now wore an expression of great gravity as she handed me a handwritten note on sage green paper.

I might have thanked her. I might not. My only focus was on the door.

Chapter Nine

It took every ounce of willpower I had to stick with ten miles per hour above the speed limit rather than the twenty or fifty I wanted to go. I couldn't risk getting stopped for speeding. Every light made me grit my teeth and every sudden braking in front of me from tourists who didn't know where they were going threatened to crack those teeth I was clenching so hard.

Finally I was able to break from the tourists, following the instructions left for me rather than the studio signs for the hoi polloi. I had one turn left to go. If I craned my neck, I could see the gate off to the side, two cars awaiting entrance, but yet another light—the final light, so help me—stopped me cold. I was looking left when my passenger door opened suddenly, and I whipped my head around to see Neith letting herself in. She didn't bother with the seatbelt.

“Go!” she said as the light turned green. As if she wasn't the distraction that kept me sitting there staring.

“The hell?” I asked.

“You got a call, right? I need in. You're going to take me.”

“I should do that why?”

“I think the deeper question is ‘why not?'”

I chewed on that one. I had no reason not to bring her in, except that if she needed me for entrance, it meant she wasn't on the list and there'd be a hold-up at the gate while they got clearance for her. Probably we'd be asked to move out of line. Minutes would tick by. Time I wouldn't know what the hell was going on, who was hurt and how I could help.

“There's no time,” I said.

“What if you need me? You'd lose time calling me in.”

Short of a pry bar or maybe some Mace, I didn't see how I was getting rid of her anyway, and the cars at the gate had cleared, one being turned back. We were going to be conspicuous very soon.

I growled, but I turned the corner and drove forward, giving my name when we got up to the gate—not just a lift-bar, but an actual eight-foot or so steel mesh gate. I was assuming on the steel. Guarding it was one studio security guard and one uniformed officer, hand on his sidearm.

The former checked my name against a list. The latter leaned down to look into my passenger seat. “Who's she?” he asked.

“Neith Sais,” she supplied, giving him a grim smile. “Insurance investigator.” She flashed a badge of sorts. “Detectives Reyes and Armani know me.”

He gave me a look as though to see my reaction to her story, and when he didn't get one, said, “I'll have to check you out.”

I huffed at the delay, but I'd expected as much. Luckily, a phone call seemed enough to get Neith through. I wondered if I was needed urgently enough to rubber stamp her or whether Nick—oh please let him be okay—or Reyes thought she could contribute. The officer gave us quick directions, but I didn't think it would be a problem. I could see flashing lights even from the entrance. Between his directions and them as a beacon, I should be able to find my way.

I was through the gates so quickly I scraped my passenger side mirror on them going through. I was too worried to care and Neith didn't say a word. Smart woman.

I wanted to ask her how she happened to be at the accident site. I wanted to ask her a whole bunch of things, but I didn't, knowing I'd be out of the car before she could even answer.

I had to pull sharply right to let an ambulance pass us, full lights and sirens blaring, but there was another where that came from, still waiting at the scene, blocking our view of what was happening. An officer stopped us as we got close to it, waving us down a side street and following to check our IDs again before letting us out of a car. We pulled over next to blank storefronts that looked vaguely familiar, probably seen in a million and one television shows and movies done over to look unique each time and mostly managing.

“Who's hurt?” I asked him. I didn't ask about fatalities. I couldn't face the answer.

“Ma'am,” he said, “I'm just here to escort you. I'm sure the detectives will fill you in.”

Any other time I might have taken exception to being ma'am-ed, but for now I power-walked toward all the action, Neith right beside me. Her strides were shorter but faster, as though we were in competition to see who could get there first.

Beyond the ambulance, beyond the crime scene tape, the first thing I saw was a blue car plowed into the side of one of the storefronts, this one all done up like a florist. Flowers lay like bodies all around. The driver's side door, which had crumpled with the front of the car, had been pried open, and blood left behind. Stage blood or…

From the frantic call, I assumed it was the
or.

“Action flick?” I asked the officer.

“Romantic comedy,” he answered.

“I think they got it wrong.”

Comedies didn't usually involve buckets of blood or…was that a hank of hair left behind in the car or part of a wig?

The real activity was centered around the other car on the scene. It…I had to look away, but not before I saw what looked like a mannequin trapped under it. Only I knew it wasn't a mannequin.

Detective Reyes spotted us and left the crime scene photographer snapping pictures of the body to come over, giving pools of blood, broken glass and twisted metal a wide berth. My heart sank into my stomach. Where was Nick?

I looked over to Neith, who seemed to be scanning for him as well, her eyes pinched and worried, a furrow in her forehead you could plant crops in.

Reyes was nearly to us when something sharp rang out from the ambulance beside us, along with a howl of rage. Neith and I whirled for it, but I was a step closer and a shade faster, so I was the one in the way when the doors exploded open and Nick came flying out.

A cry wrung out of me as I leapt into position to catch him and ended up getting hit with the full brunt of his weight and momentum. It knocked me back a step, and if Neith hadn't been there to steady me, we might both have gone over. Nick's face was overrun with blood, which he brushed away quickly to clear his eyes.

“Run!” he said, bucking himself free and preparing to get back in there. He reached for his gun, but Neith was in his way.

As soon as I was steady, she'd dodged around us and now leapt for the back of the ambulance where Viktor Ramone stood with arms raised like he was King Kong, wrists trailing broken leather restraints. He roared like Kong too, as he swung both fists straight at Neith to keep her from getting close. Quick as lightning, she kicked off the bumper, changed her trajectory for one of the open ambulance doors and grabbed on to the top of it. Her weight made it swing inward, and she twisted to ride it in, kicking out with both legs to help the momentum and catch Viktor dead center of his chest with both heels. He went flying deeper into the ambulance, quicker than any of the cops who'd come running, Reyes included, could get a bead on him.

Neith dropped into the back before her hands could get smashed by the doors closing. Viktor instantly recovered and grabbed her up in a monstrous grip, as though he might squeeze her to death. Her arms were trapped against her sides, but she was kicking frantically. I raced to help her, dodging Nick's hand as he reached to hold me back.

Viktor was so intent on squeezing the life out of Neith he didn't notice me until I jumped him, arms wrapped around his thick neck to choke off his air, make him let go of Neith to deal with the new threat. I nearly inhaled his mullet-hair and had to cough it out.

Instead of letting Neith go, Viktor fell back, letting me smash back-first into the equipment behind me. Pain flared, but I held on, and he rammed forward, trying the same thing on Neith. There were cabinets behind her at head height and she hit with a horrible crack.

She started to go limp, and I was afraid I wasn't going to be able to fell him in time to save her. I changed my tactics, dropped off his back, releasing his neck and hollering his name.

I waited for his crazed eyes to meet mine before I yelled “Freeze!”

But at that same moment, Neith came alive again…or maybe she'd just been playing possum…and gained enough space to bring her knee up right into his balls. The pain doubled him over, breaking our contact or short-circuiting it because of the pain.

But it didn't last. Angrier than ever, Viktor roared up from his collapse, fists first, and caught Neith right under the chin, knocking her head back like a losing Rock'em Sock'em Robot. She reeled, eyes rolled up in their sockets. The back of her legs hit a gurney and she went down on top of it.

Viktor turned immediately for me, a predatory gleam in his eyes and, I noticed, red-stained teeth. I didn't want to think “blood”, but my brain went there without me.

The ambulance dipped, and I knew Nick had stepped up next to me, the better to get a bead on Viktor.

“Freeze!” he said. It was my line, but in his case, he backed it up with his service weapon.

Viktor didn't so much as pause. With an inhuman sound, he launched forward. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nick's gun level. I had a millisecond to decide what to do. Foil the shot and the fight would go on. Someone might get hurt. Don't, and Viktor would be hurt for sure. Maybe killed. And…before I knew I'd made a decision, I chopped down on Nick's hand, screwing up his aim and sending his shot into the floor. I stepped in front of Nick to prevent another shot and right into Viktor's charge. He hit like a battering ram and knocked me into Nick, blasting us both backward through the ambulance's loading doors.

The freefall was nothing compared to the impact. I heard Nick's gasp of pain as he skidded along the pavement, Viktor and I falling practically on top of him. My own body screamed at the injustice, especially my already abused back. I twisted as quickly as the pain allowed and tried to get a grip on Viktor, to hold him down. But he recovered the fastest of us all and pulled a meaty hand back to deliver a blow I could see in his eyes would put my lights out.

“Freeze!” I yelled, at the same time I heard a shot go off, and Viktor collapsed on top of me…dead weight. I didn't know whether it was from the gorgon glare or the gunshot, but all I could feel at that moment was relief.

An EMT rushed up. Cops closed in.

Nick was calling my name, pushing at me, trying to get me to respond. It took me a second or so to actually hear him, my ears ringing from the gunshot. Or maybe shock.

It took an officer pulling Viktor off for me to shake out of it. Viktor wasn't so lucky. He rose like a mannequin, stiff and frozen…and bleeding from the thigh. The blood ran sluggishly, as though it too obeyed the order to freeze, but that was good, I thought. He wouldn't lose too much blood before the medics could patch him up.

Nick rose behind me, putting a hand to my back to comfort or steady me. Maybe I'd swayed, the adrenaline of near-death starting to wear off, leaving me feeling a little shaky.

The EMT took charge of Viktor while his partner tried to get a look at Nick's head wound, but he waved him off and sent him to Neith.

Reyes, gun now down at her side, asked, “What the hell was
that
? I've seen guys hopped up on drugs before, but never so…feral.”

“New stuff coming on the market all the time,” Nick ventured, meeting my gaze as if to tell me to roll with it. Like I was going to argue.

“Or the Roland brothers could have given him a concussion when they knocked him out,” I added helpfully. “Maybe there was some kind of damage? Or…a psychotic break.”

“And what were you
thinking
—you and your friend jumping into the action?” Reyes asked. “Maybe you didn't notice the police all around?”

“What I
noticed
was the detective who came flying at me. You know, the one I
caught
,” I said, shooting Nick an apologetic look. “Then I saw a woman getting the anaconda treatment and the cops with no clear shot.”

She couldn't argue that, though I could see she wanted to. Instead, she bit down her response, which seemed to taste bitter if her expression was any indication. She gave up on me and turned to Nick, studying the blood trails on his face. “You good?” she asked. “I mean
really
?”

“It's worse than it looks,” he said. “I promise.” He grabbed a handkerchief out of his pocket and did his best to wipe the blood away, wincing as he touched his forehead. He managed to get some of the blood up. The rest he just smeared around. He was going to need soap and water…at the very least.

“Fine then, you stay here. Finish up at the scene,” she ordered. “Get her statement and…whatever else you brought her here for. I'll ride with the perp.”

I wondered whether she outranked him, but since Nick agreed, it wasn't my place to argue.

“Touch me again and you draw back a bloody stump,” we heard loudly from the ambulance.

Neith. Nick and I exchanged looks.

“I think I'd better go save our medic friend,” he said.

He went with Reyes to the ambulance and came back with Neith. I noticed right away that she hadn't made
him
draw back a bloody stump. In fact, Nick had an arm wrapped around her waist and she had one around his shoulders, using him as a crutch to help her walk. I wondered whether it was strictly necessary or whether the goddess of strategy just wanted an excuse to get up close and personal.

As soon as they were on the ground, the ambulance doors swung shut behind them and latched. A second after that, the ambulance took off, slowly at first and then gaining speed.

Nick dropped his arm as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't, though really he had the right to wrap himself around anyone he wanted…and I had the right to remain silent on the matter.

I noticed it took Neith a very telling second longer to withdraw her own arm.

“What did you want me here for?” I asked when the silence was in danger of stretching on. “Not that I would have missed this for the world. Murder, mayhem, blood and guts…”