Midnight Blue-Light Special
Page 50
Traveling with Uncle Mike meant I couldn’t take the rooftops, but didn’t need to hail a cab, either. We rode in his sedan, blending smoothly into the traffic around us. If the Covenant was watching for me suspiciously, they’d know to be watching the high ground. Hopefully, being on the roads would keep me under their radar.
“I wish I could convince her to go home,” I said, sinking deep into my seat.
Mike didn’t need to ask who I was talking about. “Any chance of that died when these people got charms to block themselves from her view,” he said. “No way she’s getting on a plane when she won’t know whether one of the other passengers is planning to kill her.”
“Maybe we depend too much on her telepathy.”
“We’ve all got our skills. There’s no shame in depending on them. Just in falling apart if things don’t go exactly the way you were planning. Since you’re not doing that, I think we’re going to be okay.” Mike turned onto a one-way street without checking the sign to be sure he was traveling in the right direction. Judging by the parked cars around us, he wasn’t. “So we’ve got a rogue Healy, and our cuckoo’s benched for the duration. We still have two bruisers, you, me, and all your folks from work. What about these boys we’re going to pick up?”
“They may not want to come with us, and we won’t force them. They’re Madhura.”
“Huh,” said Mike, and kept driving. After a few minutes had passed, he added, “Guess that’ll save us a few bucks on spoiled food.”
I smiled a little. “Guess so.” Having a Madhura around retards food spoilage and decay of all types. Bread stays fresh for weeks if there’s a Madhura in the neighborhood. No one’s exactly sure why. Alex thinks they may be natural bacteriophages or something, but it’s hard to say without a lot of invasive lab work—something none of us are particularly interested in performing, and absolutely zero Madhura seem to be interested in volunteering for.
“You really think we’re driving into a trap?”
This time I was the one who was quiet for a few minutes, thinking about the question. Finally, I said, “I honestly don’t know, Uncle Mike. I want to believe him. I want to believe that Margaret being at the Port Hope was just a horrible coincidence. I can’t, quite. At the same time, I never gave him credit for being this good of a liar.” I glanced toward my adopted uncle. “Either way, I guess we’re going to find out in a little while.”
“Two against four.” Mike smiled. It wasn’t a comforting expression. “Sounds just about fair.”
“Assuming we don’t plan to walk away.”
“Who does?” He shook his head. “You know you can’t trust him anymore, hon. He’s trying to serve two masters—the Covenant, and his heart. That never works out for anybody in the long run.”
I sighed. “I know. I’m just . . . I guess I’m still holding hope for him picking the right side.”
“Right for him, or right for you?”
This time I didn’t have any answers at all. We drove down the streets in silence, and I hoped as hard as I could that when we reached Gingerbread Pudding, we would find Sunil and Rochak alive and well, and I wouldn’t have to make up my mind about Dominic De Luca. I wasn’t ready for that. Soon, maybe, but not yet.
Luck was on my side for once. We found a parking space a quarter of a block from the café, and even from there, we could see that the joint was jumping. The line wasn’t quite out the door, but people were pushing their way both in and out, and happy tourists with their cups of cocoa and squares of gingerbread choked the sidewalk.
Dominic freaked out when I mentioned monsters in public places. There was no way the Covenant would try to pull off an ambush with this many civilians around. Too many centuries of secrecy weighing them down.
Mike took a few quick steps forward, putting himself in front of me, and proceeded to clear us a path to the door simply through dint of walking with his elbows out and his legs a little farther apart than strictly necessary. People got out of the way without seeming to realize they were doing it. One more advantage to being a large male, rather than a small female.
Then again, being a petite woman has advantages of its own. Once we were inside, I slithered around him and flashed a radiant smile at Sunil, who was manning the counter. He blinked, looking concerned for half a second before plastering an artificially radiant smile on his face and declaring, “There you are! I was starting to worry that you’d forgotten about me, and were leaving me here to die of a broken heart.”
“Never,” I said flirtatiously, and worked my way around the people between us to slip behind the counter. I leaned up onto my tiptoes, close enough that onlookers would assume I was kissing his cheek, and whispered, “The Covenant is coming. We need to get you out of here.”
Sunil laughed nervously. “Of course, sweetheart. Take your friend back to the break room and I’ll send Rochak to bring you some gingerbread while you wait.”
I nodded as I dropped to the flats of my feet. “See you soon, honey.” Motioning for Mike to follow me, I started toward the back. A few people grumbled, but not many. Everyone’s forgiving when romance is in the air. (Too bad it wasn’t real. My parents would have been thrilled if I’d come home with a nice cryptid boy, and Sunil was sweet. Literally.) Mike trailed along behind me like a silent shadow, and I led him into the little employee break room where I once shared gingerbread and secrets with Piyusha, just hours before she died.
True to Sunil’s word, Mike and I were barely in the room when Rochak arrived with a tray of gingerbread, and a white to-go bag of the same stuff. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Nothing good,” I replied, taking a piece of gingerbread. “Rochak, this is my uncle, Mike Gucciard. Uncle Mike, this is Rochak, one of the owners of Gingerbread Pudding.”
“Charmed,” said Uncle Mike, claiming his own piece of gingerbread.
“Likewise,” said Rochak automatically. He turned back to me. “What’s going on? You don’t normally drop by like this.”
“How quickly can you close down and get out of here?” I asked. His eyes widened. I shook my head, and continued, “Dominic—who may or may not be compromised, but that’s a matter for later—just called me. There’s going to be a Covenant sweep of this neighborhood tomorrow. You need to leave, and you need to leave now. “
“I wish I could convince her to go home,” I said, sinking deep into my seat.
Mike didn’t need to ask who I was talking about. “Any chance of that died when these people got charms to block themselves from her view,” he said. “No way she’s getting on a plane when she won’t know whether one of the other passengers is planning to kill her.”
“Maybe we depend too much on her telepathy.”
“We’ve all got our skills. There’s no shame in depending on them. Just in falling apart if things don’t go exactly the way you were planning. Since you’re not doing that, I think we’re going to be okay.” Mike turned onto a one-way street without checking the sign to be sure he was traveling in the right direction. Judging by the parked cars around us, he wasn’t. “So we’ve got a rogue Healy, and our cuckoo’s benched for the duration. We still have two bruisers, you, me, and all your folks from work. What about these boys we’re going to pick up?”
“They may not want to come with us, and we won’t force them. They’re Madhura.”
“Huh,” said Mike, and kept driving. After a few minutes had passed, he added, “Guess that’ll save us a few bucks on spoiled food.”
I smiled a little. “Guess so.” Having a Madhura around retards food spoilage and decay of all types. Bread stays fresh for weeks if there’s a Madhura in the neighborhood. No one’s exactly sure why. Alex thinks they may be natural bacteriophages or something, but it’s hard to say without a lot of invasive lab work—something none of us are particularly interested in performing, and absolutely zero Madhura seem to be interested in volunteering for.
“You really think we’re driving into a trap?”
This time I was the one who was quiet for a few minutes, thinking about the question. Finally, I said, “I honestly don’t know, Uncle Mike. I want to believe him. I want to believe that Margaret being at the Port Hope was just a horrible coincidence. I can’t, quite. At the same time, I never gave him credit for being this good of a liar.” I glanced toward my adopted uncle. “Either way, I guess we’re going to find out in a little while.”
“Two against four.” Mike smiled. It wasn’t a comforting expression. “Sounds just about fair.”
“Assuming we don’t plan to walk away.”
“Who does?” He shook his head. “You know you can’t trust him anymore, hon. He’s trying to serve two masters—the Covenant, and his heart. That never works out for anybody in the long run.”
I sighed. “I know. I’m just . . . I guess I’m still holding hope for him picking the right side.”
“Right for him, or right for you?”
This time I didn’t have any answers at all. We drove down the streets in silence, and I hoped as hard as I could that when we reached Gingerbread Pudding, we would find Sunil and Rochak alive and well, and I wouldn’t have to make up my mind about Dominic De Luca. I wasn’t ready for that. Soon, maybe, but not yet.
Luck was on my side for once. We found a parking space a quarter of a block from the café, and even from there, we could see that the joint was jumping. The line wasn’t quite out the door, but people were pushing their way both in and out, and happy tourists with their cups of cocoa and squares of gingerbread choked the sidewalk.
Dominic freaked out when I mentioned monsters in public places. There was no way the Covenant would try to pull off an ambush with this many civilians around. Too many centuries of secrecy weighing them down.
Mike took a few quick steps forward, putting himself in front of me, and proceeded to clear us a path to the door simply through dint of walking with his elbows out and his legs a little farther apart than strictly necessary. People got out of the way without seeming to realize they were doing it. One more advantage to being a large male, rather than a small female.
Then again, being a petite woman has advantages of its own. Once we were inside, I slithered around him and flashed a radiant smile at Sunil, who was manning the counter. He blinked, looking concerned for half a second before plastering an artificially radiant smile on his face and declaring, “There you are! I was starting to worry that you’d forgotten about me, and were leaving me here to die of a broken heart.”
“Never,” I said flirtatiously, and worked my way around the people between us to slip behind the counter. I leaned up onto my tiptoes, close enough that onlookers would assume I was kissing his cheek, and whispered, “The Covenant is coming. We need to get you out of here.”
Sunil laughed nervously. “Of course, sweetheart. Take your friend back to the break room and I’ll send Rochak to bring you some gingerbread while you wait.”
I nodded as I dropped to the flats of my feet. “See you soon, honey.” Motioning for Mike to follow me, I started toward the back. A few people grumbled, but not many. Everyone’s forgiving when romance is in the air. (Too bad it wasn’t real. My parents would have been thrilled if I’d come home with a nice cryptid boy, and Sunil was sweet. Literally.) Mike trailed along behind me like a silent shadow, and I led him into the little employee break room where I once shared gingerbread and secrets with Piyusha, just hours before she died.
True to Sunil’s word, Mike and I were barely in the room when Rochak arrived with a tray of gingerbread, and a white to-go bag of the same stuff. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Nothing good,” I replied, taking a piece of gingerbread. “Rochak, this is my uncle, Mike Gucciard. Uncle Mike, this is Rochak, one of the owners of Gingerbread Pudding.”
“Charmed,” said Uncle Mike, claiming his own piece of gingerbread.
“Likewise,” said Rochak automatically. He turned back to me. “What’s going on? You don’t normally drop by like this.”
“How quickly can you close down and get out of here?” I asked. His eyes widened. I shook my head, and continued, “Dominic—who may or may not be compromised, but that’s a matter for later—just called me. There’s going to be a Covenant sweep of this neighborhood tomorrow. You need to leave, and you need to leave now. “
