Thirteen
Page 32
She reached down and cracked open her case. Light flooded out. “You see, Toby, you were wrong. I haven’t been hiding out. I’ve been dead. Until a sorcerer crossed me over, I was walking around the afterlife. And I was carrying this.”
She pulled out her sword. Toby jumped back, knees knocking his laptop and sending it toppling as he scuttled onto the sofa.
Mom swirled the sword, the blue steel leaving a swath of light.
“Do you know what this is, Toby? One hint—it’s not a light saber.”
“I—I don’t—”
“Take a guess.” She grabbed it by the blade and held it out to him. “Better yet, take a hold. Try it out.”
He reached for the pommel. When his fingers touched it, he let out a shriek and fell back, his hand raised. Blisters popped up on every fingertip.
“Holy Mother of God,” he whispered.
“So you’re a religious man? That’s good. Makes this easier. If this sword just burned a fire demon, I’m sure you can guess what it is. And that this”—she grasped it by the pommel, then tossed it up and caught it by the blade—“is not a party trick. All this is to say that I can protect you from the Cortezes. And that you might be wise to help the cause by giving me the information I need.”
Toby took one more look at the sword and decided he was feeling chatty. Mom settled back onto the sofa, leaving the sword glowing on the coffee table as a reminder.
“I know Roberts,” he muttered when Mom finished explaining and identifying the culprit. “Should have turned his name over to Jackie. I would have, too, except that he has a wife and an ex-wife and a kid, so someone would miss him.”
“You had contact with him?”
“Me and Roberts don’t travel in the same circles. He was one of those guys who pretends he’s too good for us. Squeaky clean. Only he wasn’t, was he? Damn it. If only I’d known. He cost me a sweet income stream. Jackie paid a grand for every name.”
“He cost her a lot, too,” I said. “Her life. I’m sure you’re upset about that.”
It took him a moment to find the right expression of regret. Then he gave us everything he knew about Roberts, which wasn’t much. It wasn’t until we handed over Roberts’s contacts list that we started getting somewhere.
“Oh, yeah, I know a few of these guys.” He rattled off names and supernatural types for a half dozen of Roberts’s entries. Two were in the business of providing basic services for fellow supernaturals.
“This guy’s a doctor.” Toby pointed to a name on the list I was writing. “Charges more than a frigging private clinic, but he’s good. Discreet, too. So’s she.” He pointed to the only woman’s name on the list. Amanda Griffin.
“What’s she do?”
“Hooker. For guys who don’t want to worry about hiding their powers. Amanda’s a real sweetie. Says most supernaturals want to do more talking then screwing. They just like being able to talk freely. Which is a shame. She’s a good talker, but she’s even better at screwing.”
“Uh-huh. Well, Roberts seemed to need a lot of talking. If she’s the A in his calendar, they were chatting a few times a week.”
“Son of a bitch,” Toby muttered. “Amanda never even told me she was seeing him. She knows I would have liked some dirt on the guy. Would have paid well for it, too.”
“You did say she was discreet.”
“Sure, but we could have blackmailed the bastard real good.” I looked at Roberts’s calendar. “I don’t have a lot of experience hiring hookers, but I’m going to guess three times a week is a bit excessive.”
“Bit expensive, too,” Toby said. “Amanda ain’t cheap.”
We continued down the list. There was another possibility or two, but none whose initials matched appointments in the calendar. Amanda it was then. When we were done, Mom picked up her sword.
“Find some rope, Savannah,” she said.
“Wh-what?” Toby said, starting to rise. “Why do you need rope—?”
Mom pointed the sword at his throat and he fell back into the cushions. “I’ve told you my secret, Toby. You know that I’m back and what I am. That’s very valuable information. After you double-crossed me the last time, I don’t trust you.”
“But—but you didn’t need to tell me! I’d have listened to your offer without knowing you’re an angel.”
“Huh. My mistake then. But, since you do know, I can’t have you running around. You’ll need to wait here for the Cortezes.”
His voice went shrill. “You promised to protect me from the Cortezes.”
“No, I said I could. Not that I would.”
“You bitch!” He started to leap up. One wrist-flick of the sword and he sat back down. “You set me up.”
“Just returning the favor. Savannah?”
“I’ll get some rope.”
We had to settle for extension cords and electrical tape, but they did the job. Then I called Lucas and told him where Toby was. They’d have a lot of questions for him, questions better answered in Cortez custody. That’s why Mom played the angel card—an excuse to have the Cortezes take him even after he’d fulfilled the bargain. Of course, since she had the big, glowing sword, she didn’t need an excuse, but that wouldn’t have been fair. In my mother’s world, playing fair is important, even if her definition of it is a little malleable. When we got back into the car, I said, “We need a disguise.”
Mom looked over, brows lifting.
“Either we disguise ourselves or we have to leave a trail of bound and gagged supernaturals in our wake,” I said. “Which could be appropriate, considering half the supernatural population of New Orleans seems to be eyeball deep in this shit. But the next person who recognizes you might escape before they’re in our sights.”
“Not in my sights,” she said. “I have superhuman vision, remember.”
I gave her a look.
“Yes, I take your point,” she said. “I don’t disguise easily and I suspect you don’t either, but I may have a solution. I’ve picked up a few tricks on the other side. Let’s just hope they work.”
She pulled out her sword. Toby jumped back, knees knocking his laptop and sending it toppling as he scuttled onto the sofa.
Mom swirled the sword, the blue steel leaving a swath of light.
“Do you know what this is, Toby? One hint—it’s not a light saber.”
“I—I don’t—”
“Take a guess.” She grabbed it by the blade and held it out to him. “Better yet, take a hold. Try it out.”
He reached for the pommel. When his fingers touched it, he let out a shriek and fell back, his hand raised. Blisters popped up on every fingertip.
“Holy Mother of God,” he whispered.
“So you’re a religious man? That’s good. Makes this easier. If this sword just burned a fire demon, I’m sure you can guess what it is. And that this”—she grasped it by the pommel, then tossed it up and caught it by the blade—“is not a party trick. All this is to say that I can protect you from the Cortezes. And that you might be wise to help the cause by giving me the information I need.”
Toby took one more look at the sword and decided he was feeling chatty. Mom settled back onto the sofa, leaving the sword glowing on the coffee table as a reminder.
“I know Roberts,” he muttered when Mom finished explaining and identifying the culprit. “Should have turned his name over to Jackie. I would have, too, except that he has a wife and an ex-wife and a kid, so someone would miss him.”
“You had contact with him?”
“Me and Roberts don’t travel in the same circles. He was one of those guys who pretends he’s too good for us. Squeaky clean. Only he wasn’t, was he? Damn it. If only I’d known. He cost me a sweet income stream. Jackie paid a grand for every name.”
“He cost her a lot, too,” I said. “Her life. I’m sure you’re upset about that.”
It took him a moment to find the right expression of regret. Then he gave us everything he knew about Roberts, which wasn’t much. It wasn’t until we handed over Roberts’s contacts list that we started getting somewhere.
“Oh, yeah, I know a few of these guys.” He rattled off names and supernatural types for a half dozen of Roberts’s entries. Two were in the business of providing basic services for fellow supernaturals.
“This guy’s a doctor.” Toby pointed to a name on the list I was writing. “Charges more than a frigging private clinic, but he’s good. Discreet, too. So’s she.” He pointed to the only woman’s name on the list. Amanda Griffin.
“What’s she do?”
“Hooker. For guys who don’t want to worry about hiding their powers. Amanda’s a real sweetie. Says most supernaturals want to do more talking then screwing. They just like being able to talk freely. Which is a shame. She’s a good talker, but she’s even better at screwing.”
“Uh-huh. Well, Roberts seemed to need a lot of talking. If she’s the A in his calendar, they were chatting a few times a week.”
“Son of a bitch,” Toby muttered. “Amanda never even told me she was seeing him. She knows I would have liked some dirt on the guy. Would have paid well for it, too.”
“You did say she was discreet.”
“Sure, but we could have blackmailed the bastard real good.” I looked at Roberts’s calendar. “I don’t have a lot of experience hiring hookers, but I’m going to guess three times a week is a bit excessive.”
“Bit expensive, too,” Toby said. “Amanda ain’t cheap.”
We continued down the list. There was another possibility or two, but none whose initials matched appointments in the calendar. Amanda it was then. When we were done, Mom picked up her sword.
“Find some rope, Savannah,” she said.
“Wh-what?” Toby said, starting to rise. “Why do you need rope—?”
Mom pointed the sword at his throat and he fell back into the cushions. “I’ve told you my secret, Toby. You know that I’m back and what I am. That’s very valuable information. After you double-crossed me the last time, I don’t trust you.”
“But—but you didn’t need to tell me! I’d have listened to your offer without knowing you’re an angel.”
“Huh. My mistake then. But, since you do know, I can’t have you running around. You’ll need to wait here for the Cortezes.”
His voice went shrill. “You promised to protect me from the Cortezes.”
“No, I said I could. Not that I would.”
“You bitch!” He started to leap up. One wrist-flick of the sword and he sat back down. “You set me up.”
“Just returning the favor. Savannah?”
“I’ll get some rope.”
We had to settle for extension cords and electrical tape, but they did the job. Then I called Lucas and told him where Toby was. They’d have a lot of questions for him, questions better answered in Cortez custody. That’s why Mom played the angel card—an excuse to have the Cortezes take him even after he’d fulfilled the bargain. Of course, since she had the big, glowing sword, she didn’t need an excuse, but that wouldn’t have been fair. In my mother’s world, playing fair is important, even if her definition of it is a little malleable. When we got back into the car, I said, “We need a disguise.”
Mom looked over, brows lifting.
“Either we disguise ourselves or we have to leave a trail of bound and gagged supernaturals in our wake,” I said. “Which could be appropriate, considering half the supernatural population of New Orleans seems to be eyeball deep in this shit. But the next person who recognizes you might escape before they’re in our sights.”
“Not in my sights,” she said. “I have superhuman vision, remember.”
I gave her a look.
“Yes, I take your point,” she said. “I don’t disguise easily and I suspect you don’t either, but I may have a solution. I’ve picked up a few tricks on the other side. Let’s just hope they work.”
