Every Which Way But Dead (37 page)

He quickened his pace, but I was still shivering by the time we got to the entry door. Trent solicitously held it for me, ushering me in ahead of him. Letting go of his arm, I went inside, my hands clasping my upper arms to try to warm myself. I gave the doorman a brief smile, and got a stoic, blank look. Taking my shawl off, I held it between two fingers to the coat attendant, wondering if I could conveniently leave it here—by accident, of course.

“Mr. Kalamack and Ms. Morgan,” Trent said, ignoring the guestbook. “We're expected.”

“Yes, sir.” The doorman gestured for someone to take his place. “Right this way.”

Trent offered me his arm. I hesitated, trying to read his quiet face and failing. Taking a breath, I linked my arm in his. As my fingers brushed the top of his hand, I made a conscious effort to maintain my level of line energy when I felt a slight pull from my chi. “Better,” he said, his eyes searching the busy game room as we followed the doorman. “You're improving by leaps and bounds, Ms. Morgan.”

“Shove it, Trent,” I said, smiling at the people who looked up when we entered. His hand was warm under my fingers, and I felt like a princess. There was a lull in the noise, and when the conversations rose again, they had an excitement that couldn't be laid entirely at the feet of gambling.

It was warm, and the air pleasantly scented. The disk hanging over the center of the room seemed quiet, but I imagined if I bothered to look at it with my second sight that it would be pulsating with that ugly purple and black. I glanced at my reflection to see if my hair was behaving under the stylist's sprays and wires, glad the yellow of my black eye was still hidden behind the mundane makeup. Then I looked again.

Damn!
I thought, slowing. Trent and I looked fantastic. No wonder people were staring. He was trim and debonair, and I was elegant in my borrowed dress with my hair up off my neck and bound with that heavy gold wire. Both of us were confident, both of us were smiling. But even as I thought we made the perfect couple, I realized that though we were together, each of us was alone. Our strengths were not dependent upon each other, and while that wasn't bad, it didn't lend itself to being a couple. We were simply standing next to each other looking good.

“What is it?” Trent asked, gesturing that I should go up the stairs ahead of him.

“Nothing.” Gathering my slit skirt as best I could, I went up the narrow carpeted stairway after the doorman. The sound of gaming people went faint, turning into a background hum to stir my subconscious. A cheer rose, and I wished I could be down there, feeling my heart pound in the breathless wait to see what the dice would show.

“I thought they'd search us,” Trent said softly so the man escorting us couldn't hear.

I shrugged. “For what? Did you see that big disk on the ceiling?” He glanced behind us, and I added, “It's a huge spell damper. Kind of like the charms I used to have on my cuffs before you burned them all to hell, but it affects the whole boat.”

“Didn't you bring a weapon?” he whispered as we reached the second floor.

“Yes,” I said through my teeth, smiling. “And I could shoot someone with it, but the potions won't take effect until whoever it is leaves the boat.”

“What good is it then?”

“I don't kill people, Trent. Get over it.”
Though I might make an exception for Lee.

I saw his jaw tighten and relax. Our escort opened a narrow door, gesturing for me to enter. I stepped in, finding Lee looking pleasantly surprised as he brought his attention from the paperwork on his desk. I tried to keep my expression neutral, the memory of that man writhing on the street under a black charm aimed at me making me angry and ill all at the same time.

A tall woman stood behind him, leaning to breathe upon his neck. She was leggy and lean, dressed in a black jump-suit with bell-bottom hems. The neckline went almost to her navel. Vamp, I decided, when her eyes dropped to my necklace and she smiled to show me small, pointy canines. My scar twinged, and my anger slowed. Quen wouldn't have stood a chance.

Eyes alight, Lee rose and tugged the coat of his tux straight. Physically pushing the vampire out of his way, he came out from around the desk. Trent entered, and his gaze became even more animated. “Trent!” he exclaimed, striding forward with his hands extended. “How are you, old man!”

I stepped back as Trent and Lee warmly clasped hands.
You've got to be kidding me.

“Stanley,” he said, smiling, and it finished falling into place.
Stanley, long for Lee.

“Damn!” Lee said, pounding Trent on the back. “How long has it been? Ten years?”

Trent's smile flickered, his annoyance at that back slap nearly undetectable but for the slight tightening in his eyes. “Almost that. You look good. Still hitting the waves?”

Lee ducked his head, a roguish grin turning him into a scalawag despite him being in a tux. “Now and again. Not as much as I like. My damn knee has been giving me trouble. But you look good. Got some muscle on you now. Not that skinny boy trying to keep up with me.”

Trent's eyes flicked to mine, and I gave him a mute look. “Thanks.”

“Word is you're getting married.”

Married? I was wearing his fiancée's dress? Oh, this was getting better and better.

Lee brushed his hair out of his eyes and sat against the desk. The vamp behind him started to rub his shoulders in a sultry, whore-bitch sort of a way. She hadn't taken her eyes off me, and I didn't like it. “Anyone I know?” Lee prompted, and Trent's jaw clenched.

“A beautiful young woman named Ellasbeth Withon,” he said. “From Seattle.”

“Ah.” Brown eyes wide, Lee smiled as if he was laughing at Trent. “Congratulations?”

“You've met her,” Trent said sourly, and Lee chuckled.

“I've heard of her.” He made a pained face. “Am I invited to the wedding?”

I puffed impatiently. I had thought we came here to knock heads, not have a reunion. Ten years would put them in their late teens. College? And I didn't like being ignored, but I supposed that was standard for hired help. At least whore-bitch hadn't been introduced either.

“Of course,” Trent said. “The invitations will go out as soon as she decides between the eight options she's narrowed it down to,” he said dryly. “I'd ask you to be my best man, if I thought you'd ever get on a horse again.”

Lee pulled himself off the desk and out of the vamp's reach. “No, no, no,” he protested, going to a small cabinet and bringing out two glasses and a bottle. “Not again. Not with you. My God, what did you whisper into that beast's ear, anyway?”

Trent smiled, a real one this time, and took the offered shot glass. “Fair is fair, surfer dude,” he said, and I blinked at the accent he affected. “Seeing as you almost drowned me.”

“Me?” Lee sat back on the desk, one foot off the floor. “I had nothing to do with that. The canoe had a leak. I didn't know you couldn't swim.”

“That's what you keep saying.” Trent's eye twitched. Taking a tiny sip, he turned to me. “Stanley, this is Rachel Morgan. She's my security tonight.”

I beamed a false smile. “Hello, Lee.” I held out my hand, careful to keep my ley line energy reined, though with the memory of that man's screams echoing through me, it was hard not to give him a jolt. “Nice to see the upstairs this time.”

“Rachel,” Lee said warmly, turning my hand to kiss the top of it instead of shaking it. “You can't imagine how bad I felt for getting you mixed up in that ugly business. I'm so pleased you came away from it unscathed. I trust you're being compensated properly tonight?”

I yanked my hand back before his lips touched it, making a show of wiping it off. “No apologies needed. But I'd be remiss for not thanking you for teaching me how to play craps.” My pulse quickened and I stifled the urge to slug him. “Want your
dice back?
”

The vampire slid behind him, her hands going possessively atop his shoulders. Lee kept his smile in place, seemingly oblivious to my barb.
God, the man had been bleeding from his pores, and that had been aimed at me. Bastard.

“The orphanage was most grateful for your donation,” Lee said smoothly. “They put a new roof on with it, so I'm told.”

“Fantastic,” I said, honestly pleased. Beside me, Trent fidgeted, clearly dying to interrupt. “I'm always glad when I can help those less fortunate.”

Lee took the vampire's hands in his and moved her to stand beside him.

Trent took my arm while they were distracted. “You bought the new roof?” he breathed.

“Apparently,” I muttered, noting he was surprised about the roof, not the scuffle in the streets.

“Trent, Rachel,” Lee said as he held the vampire's hand in his. “This is Candice.”

Candice smiled to show her teeth. Ignoring Trent, she fixed her brown eyes on my neck, a red tongue edging the corner of her mouth. Exhaling, she eased closer. “Lee, sweetheart,” she said, and I gripped Trent's arm tighter when her voice ran like ripples over my scar. “You told me I'd be entertaining a man.” Her smile went predatory. “But this is okay.”

I forced a breath. Waves of promise were coming from my neck, making my knees weaken. My blood pounded and my eyes almost slipped shut. I took a breath, then another. It took all my experience with Ivy to keep from responding. She was hungry, and she knew what she was doing. If she had been undead, I would have been hers. As it was, even with my scar she couldn't bespell me unless I let her. And I wasn't going to.

Aware of Trent watching, I gained control of myself, though I could feel the sexual tension rising in me like fog on a damp night. My thoughts slid to Nick, then Kisten, where they lingered to make things worse. “Candice,” I said softly, leaning closer.
I wouldn't touch her. I wouldn't.
“It's nice to meet you. And I will break off your teeth and use them to pierce your belly button if you even as much as look at my scar again.”

Candice's eyes flashed to black. The warmth in my scar died. Angry, she drew away, her hand atop Lee's shoulder. “I don't care if you are Tamwood's plaything,” she said, trying to be all Queen of the Damned, but I lived with a truly dangerous vampire and her efforts were pathetic. “I can take you down,” she finished.

My jaw clenched. “I live with Ivy. I'm not her plaything,” I said softly, hearing a muted cheer from downstairs. “What does that tell you?”

“Nothing,” she said, her pretty face going ugly.

“And nothing is exactly what you're going to get from me, so back off.”

Lee stepped between us. “Candice,” he said, putting a hand on the small of her back and pushing her to the door. “Do me a favor, sweetheart. Get Ms. Morgan some coffee, will you? She's working tonight.”

“Black, no sugar,” I said, hearing my voice rasp. My heart was pounding and sweat had broken out. Black witches I could handle. Skilled, hungry vampires were a little harder.

Unkinking my fingers from Trent's arm, I pulled away. His face was quiet as he looked at me and then the vamp Lee was escorting to the door. “Quen…” he whispered.

“Quen wouldn't have had a chance,” I said, my heart slowing. If she had been an undead, neither would I. But Saladan wouldn't have been able to convince an undead vampire to back him, lest Piscary find out and kill him or her twice. There was honor among the dead. Or maybe it was just fear.

Lee said a few words to Candice, and the woman slunk out into the hall, giving me a sly smile before she left. Red heels were the last I saw of her. My thoughts spun when I noticed she had an anklet identical to Ivy's. There couldn't be more than one like that without a reason—perhaps Kisten and I ought to chat.

Not knowing what it meant, if anything, I sat in one of the green upholstered chairs before I fell over from the fading adrenaline. Hands clasped to hide their faint trembling, I thought of Ivy and the protection she gave me. No one had made a play for me like that in months, not since the vamp at the perfume counter had mistaken me for someone else. If I had to fight that off every day, it would only be a matter of time before I became a shadow of myself: thin, anemic, and belonging to someone. Or worse, belonging to anyone.

The sound of sliding fabric pulled my attention to Trent as he sat in the second chair. “You all right?” he breathed when Lee shut the door behind Candice with a firm thump.

His voice was soothing, surprising me. Forcing myself to straighten, I nodded, wondering why he cared, or even if he did. Exhaling, I forced my hands open and loose.

Bustling with efficiency, Lee edged back around his desk and sat. He was smiling to show his white teeth amid his suntanned face. “Trent,” he said, leaning back in his chair. It was larger than ours, and I think it put him several inches taller.
Subtle.
“I'm glad you came to see me. We should talk before anything gets more out of hand than it has.”

“Out of hand?” Trent didn't move, and I watched his concern for me melt into nothing. Green eyes hard, he set his shot glass on the desk between them, the soft click sounding louder than it should. Never looking from Saladan's sloppy grin, he took over the room. This was the man who killed his employees in his office and got away with it, the man who owned half the city, the man who thumbed his nose at the law, living above it in his fortress in the middle of an old-growth, planned-out forest.

Trent was angry, and I suddenly didn't mind that they were ignoring me.

“You derailed two of my trains, caused a near strike of my trucking line, and burned down my primary public relations effort,” Trent said, a wisp of his hair starting to float.

I stared at him while Lee shrugged.
Primary public relations effort? It had been an orphanage. God, how cold could you be?