City of Dragons: Of Flesh and Blood (21 page)

Okay, make that stop shuffling papers and pretending they weren’t there. Even though it was obvious the man was ignoring them, Deshi’s expression remained peaceful. The only sound he made was tapping his card against the counter between flipping it over in his fingers.

When Haley couldn’t stand it anymore she said, “Excuse me.”

The clerk shot her a look and Haley gave back a smile. “We’d like to check in.” His eyes gave them a once over. There was no mistaking Deshi for what he was. After all, they just don’t make Humans that beautiful. As for Haley? Good people, n
ormal
people didn’t rub elbows with the wyrms.

“Sorry, all of our rooms are booked and we don’t have any openings.” And how come that sounded like a stand in for ‘You’re messing up the look of the place, so leave.’

Haley said, “We have a reservation.”

The desk clerk shook his head and shrugged at the same time. “I’m sorry, but that’s not possible. We booked up this block of time well over a year ago, and my last reservation checked in this afternoon.” When he looked up his eyes said, “See, so fuck off.”

Deshi kept tapping the card. Flip, tap-tap, flip, tap-tap.

Haley glanced at him and so did the desk clerk. If he noticed, Deshi didn’t seem to care.

Haley waved a hand at the computer near the end of the counter. “Will you at least check?”

The man let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. At least he did go to the computer and do a quick look up after Haley gave him their names.

Flip-tap-flip-tap-flip-tap.

Damn if that tapping sound didn’t seem to get louder and louder.

Haley opened her mouth to ask Deshi to stop but the clerk spoke up. “There’s nothing. I don’t even have a broom closet.” The look on his face said he might consider putting them in one if he did.

“Do you want to try somewhere else?” Haley looked up at Deshi. He didn’t reply. No, he was busy tapping that damn card and looking like a piece of Greek sculpture.

The desk clerk said, “I’m sure the Budget Hotel has plenty of room.” Yeah, and they’d passed the place on the way here. If they had a room open, it was because the cockroaches wouldn’t even stay there. “But then with that concert in town.” The clerk did his shrug-head-shake combo again.

Deshi kept tapping the card against the counter, flip, tap, flip, tap. The clerk glared at the Male’s hand like he was considering knocking the thing out from between his fingers. Haley had to admit, it was getting to be pretty obnoxious.

She put her hand on Deshi’s arm and that’s when the clerk’s expression changed. His eyes went wide and the color drained from his cheeks. The Prince stopped tapping the card.

“I’m so sorry…Sir, I didn’t….” The Jersey City Prince held out the piece of plastic. When the man took it, his hands shook. He rushed back over to the computer and made a couple of frantic key strokes. “Just give me five minutes and I’ll have them freshen up your room.” The clerk came back, returned the card and handed Deshi the key.

Deshi slipped the black card into his wallet and kept the other one in his hand. “That won’t be necessary.” He smiled. It made his beautiful face all that much more. “I know my way up.” His tone was gentle and yet his words managed to cut off anything else the man had to say.

Haley let the Jersey City Prince take her by the arm and lead her to the elevator. Once inside she asked, “What was that all about?”

Deshi chuckled. “My Mother owns stock in the corporation.”

Haley raised an eyebrow. “How much stock?”

“Enough.”

Okay, it was obvious he had no intentions of elaborating. Haley looked at the panel. “What floor?”

Deshi reached out and pressed the blank button at the bottom. “Our room doesn’t have a floor.” A glint of silver flashed in his baby blues, and he smiled.

“Wait, I told Manny…”

“Don’t worry. When he gives the front desk the room number, they’ll send him up.” The Jersey City Prince’s hand went up and down her back in long strokes.

Haley let herself smile a little. “A private room and hotel staff at our beck and call. I could get used to this.”

Deshi’s smile broke into a grin.

When the elevator stopped, Deshi punched a code into the key pad at the bottom and the doors slid away.

Haley’s mouth fell open.

The Jersey City Prince had to pull Haley across the threshold because her legs had forgotten how to function. He took her bag while she stood in the middle of the room, doing a very good impression of an open barn door. The place was huge. One large great room welcomed them in a series of warm peach and gold hues, and an expanse of marble stretched to the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on the small city. A large white sofa sat in the center, accompanied by two matching chairs. The kitchen off to the right was bigger than Haley’s entire apartment.

Above it all hung the night sky, staring down at them through a peaked glass ceiling.

Off to the side there was a room with thick wine-colored Berber carpet. The stuff looked six inches thick. Haley leaned a little to the left to take a peek inside. The bed looked like something that could sleep six.

Oh, yeah, she
so
needed a bed like that.

There was a carbon copy room on the other side across from the dining area, except the carpet in there was blue and one wall was solid windows.

“Wow.” It was all Haley could say. Deshi gave her a glance while he moved around the kitchen opening cabinet doors, but it was obvious he wasn’t nearly as impressed as she was. “Seriously, this is…” Haley flopped her hands at her side. “Wow.”

The Prince pulled out a metal jug from the fridge and poured the contents into a black coffee cup. He popped it into the microwave.

“You don’t like it.” Haley made it a statement and Deshi didn’t answer. She walked over to him. The microwave beeped and he pulled out the cup and tested it with his finger.

“Here, drink this.” He put the cup in her hands. Haley swirled the contents. It looked like milk but moved too slow. “It’s cream. It will give you more than milk.”

“I’m okay.”

“I know you are. This is just to make sure you stay that way. You were upset.”

She took a sip and licked her lips. It was good. Really good. She tipped back the cup and drank it down. He made her another.

Haley stared out the window while Deshi drank his first cup and she started on a second.

She said, “Do you think they’ll kill him?” Behind her Deshi stopped moving. She nursed the warm cream, savoring the taste. The high calories soothed her metabolism and her body thanked her by relaxing. Haley felt the air shift behind her, then a line of warmth pressed against her back.

Deshi said, “I don’t know. I think if they wanted to kill him they would have done it in the park.”

But isn’t that what almost happened? Orin had taken so much damage from the beating that he’d never be able to heal it all. He could still chill and die.

“What do you know about Rehbek’ah, Deshi?” Because in the park he acted like he knew something. Not to mention he was a Prince.

Dehsi pulled her to the sofa and Haley leaned into him as they sat down. Warmth spread across his skin and sank into her bones. She sighed.

Deshi petted Haley down her back. He said, “To be honest, I don’t know a lot. The Athens Dens have never been very influential. I’ve never heard any complaints about her Mother, Re’ka. I think she had a few ties with the MKFK. Gave them money, funded some of their legislative efforts.”

It wasn’t the worst news, but not the greatest either. The Man Kind for Kin foundation had a reputation of being a media whore extremist group who wanted Kin elevated above Humans. They recruited people to pimp themselves out as
food
. The night clubs in the Dens were full of naive activists who tattooed Chetrah on their chests and let Kin feed from them. Eating Human flesh was only illegal if it was done involuntarily.

“Anything else?”

Deshi shrugged. “Before I came to Georgia I heard rumors about Rehbek’ah. Re’ka wanted permission for Rehbek’ah to clutch, but the other Queens would not allow it. They called her unstable. But if Re’ka really is dead and Rehbek’ah is in control… What’s the Human saying? Up a creek without a paddle?”

“Up shit creek,” Haley corrected.

Deshi gave a nod, picked up his cup and took a sip. “That would be the one.”

“There has to be something we can do about her. If she starts hurting people it makes all the Queens look bad. They don’t need that.
We
don’t need that. Deshi, she could bring the Alchemists down on all of us.” Haley thought about Texas and cringed. The Houston Dens had been home to the most powerful and heavily populated Hive in the United States. A thousand or more Kin died that day. Thanks to modern weaponry, killing Kin was a lot easier than it used to be.

Deshi stroked her hair. “What I’d like to know is how Re’ka died. The only possible explanation is Rehbek’ah. And then there is still the how.”

Before Haley could give that much thought, the phone on the end table rang.

Deshi answered it. “Hello? Yes, send him up.” He put the receiver back on the cradle. “The lawyer is here.”

“I guess we find out if we can save Orin now, don’t we?”

The Jersey City Prince smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. Haley drained her cup and sat it on the coffee table. She refused to think about the worst. Besides, if the lawyer was half as good at his job as Manny, Orin would be in good shape.

Farley got off the bus at the next exit. Whatever Darco was doing, it didn’t concern him. He had a Faerie to track.

This part of the Gray Zone was narrow, and it was a short walk to the entrance of the Dens. The multi-block area surrounding the Wall was the city’s solution to the less -than-respectable members of society. While it had originally been zoned to give Lesser-Breds and Folk somewhere to stay out of the way, it was also home to a variety of Humans, some running from the law, some trying to disappear, and some simply too poor to live anywhere else. Free utilities, no taxes, combined with the already low cost of living, were the city’s way of keeping them here.

No surprise it worked.

Up ahead, between the crumbling walls of abandoned buildings and factories, loomed the Wall. Burn barrels stood single file on the busted sidewalk and were surrounded by equal parts Lesser-Bred and ferals trying to get warm. Farley felt the heat of their stares as he passed by.

Flesh traders didn’t hang out in places like Medan’s night club, The Pit. No, they preferred darker, deeper holes near the heart of the Dens. But then dangerous things usually did. That way if they decided to put a cap in your ass, they didn’t have to dig as deep.

Farley took a left into the alley, cut through a causeway which took him through the Wall, and made his way down a small set of stairs leading below the streets. Doors lined both sides of the narrow tunnel. Some led to private homes and some to small shops offering the kind of business that didn’t want window shoppers or foot traffic.

Down here, the scent of blood and sex were thick.

A left, then a sharp right, and Farley climbed a staircase into the center of a brick building which might have begun its life as some sort of factory. The Dens were full of these spontaneous urges of forced civility. Snapshots of Human society’s attempt to assimilate Kin.

Of course it never worked.

Now the burned-out remains of the failed project served as a meeting point for shippers and traders of all kinds.

No music greeted Farley when he broke to the surface again. No lines waited at the door filled with reckless Humans pretending to be Kin, and no dancing bodies clogged the floor. In this dark smoke-filled place there was only a sense of impending cruelty. The Humans carried fire power, the Kin their strength, and the Folk were tightly guarded by half-breeds. The combination created the perfect mix for an explosion of violence.

On instinct Farley ran his eyes over the thick crowd of people talking in low voices. The clientele in a place like this rarely changed, so there were a lot of faces he recognized. Those who knew him pegged him with a stare and usually followed it with a nod. Those who didn’t would look away. But Farley never stayed a stranger for very long with any flesh dealer. His job with the CFKR was no secret, which meant sooner or later they all came looking for him. Or more precisely looking for the kind information he could get. When Farley came to the table with something to share, the traders, no matter how big and nasty, would listen.

Off in the corner a loner caught Farley’s attention. Cowboy Hat was a little slow in dropping his eyes, and throwing off a whole lot of making-like-the-natives, which sure as shit meant he didn’t belong. Farley didn’t think about it much. Sometimes Vice would get impatient and send in one of their own. Weird thing, though, this guy didn’t give off any cop vibe. Farley put a mental check by the guy’s face. He’d look into it later. Right now there was only one Human Farley wanted to talk to--Frankie Caplin.

And there he was at a corner table, counting his money. Two Berettas lay on the table, one for each hand, grips out so that they’d be quick to access. A pair of goons stood off to the side and made no attempt to conceal the MG4s they carried. ‘Cause when you didn’t have teeth and claws to establish dominance, bullets were a great alternative.

Not to mention effective as hell.

As Farley closed the distance, he nodded at each of the guards and held his hands out to the side. Look ma, no claws. Even though weapons were against the nature of the species, approaching a table with hands concealed was a good way to get shot.

“Frankie, my man.” Farley pulled out a chair. “You and I need to talk.”

Frankie’s doughy face jiggled with the effort it took for him to suck on the cigar clenched between his teeth. By the smell of the thing there was a little more than the average long strand tobacco rolled between the Maduro. He made a motion with his hand and Farley sat down.

Frankie didn’t look up. “What can I do for you today, wyrm?”

“I need to find Inoata.”

“I’m sure you do.” The flesh trader smiled around his cigar. He fondled his short dreads with his sausage fingers. The fucker was always touching himself like that.