Extinction Agenda (20 page)

“Who doesn’t?” grunted one of Tara’s guards.

“But most of my customers,” she continued, “probably the best ones, need a little coaxing. They come up to you, but don’t quite know what to say. Or maybe they don’t want to say it . . . for whatever reason. I doubt you’re nervous about anything.”

“It’s the Skinners,” Tara snapped before she was led any further along that road.

“Gotchya. Someone on the rise like you doesn’t want to know how important it is for someone like me to help you.”

Tara sighed again. It was shorter than the others. More embarrassed than disgusted. “Have you heard from them or not?”

“No.”

“Do you know where they may be?
Specifically
?”

Without doing the first thing to hide how much she was enjoying herself, Steph replied, “Like I already said. Just what I pieced together from the news.”

“Do you have anything of theirs they left behind?”

“Like what? An address book? Something they touched so you can get vibes off it? Don’t laugh. I actually have a regular customer who thinks we can do that kind of shit. God bless those stupid movies for making the rest of the planet think we’re superheroes.”

One more sigh from Tara. This time it was a short, intolerant exhalation that had been trapped for too long within an angry body. “What about anyone who might know where they are?” She snapped her black, violated eyes up to lock onto Steph and stun the Nymar into silence. “Think there might be any chance of you knowing someone like that?”

“There are tons of Nymar in Chicago.”

“And on the outskirts, but only one who works for the Skinners. Only one who mixes up the Skinner’s poisons and builds new weapons for them to use to kill us. Only one who’s been getting away with that kind of thing for . . . how many years?”

Knowing it was useless to lie, Steph adjusted her posture so she was sitting properly in her chair. “His name is Daniels.”

“There we go.”

“How long did Hope know about him?”

“I don’t know,” Tara replied. “That was back when I was crawling the walls and licking my lips.”

“Right. Sorry about that. I was just—”

“I know,” Tara cut in. “And if there was any hint that you’d found him by now, you’d already be nailed to a wall, hanging upside down so you could taste everything that leaked out of you before it dripped into a pot on the floor.”

Normally, Steph didn’t respond very well to threats. The only people who’d talked to her like that on a regular basis had been burned from their home and nearly torn apart. But things had changed in the Nymar pecking order. Tara wasn’t at the top, but she had influence that spread much farther than Chicago. As much as it galled her to do so, Steph choked down what she’d wanted to say and slowly stood up. “I may know where you could look for him.”

“Where?”

“He used to live in an apartment in the ’burbs. We think he relocated a while ago, but we haven’t been able to nail it down. Daniels was paranoid back when he mixed drinks to knock out the kids who came wandering into the clubs we used to run in the nineties. Ever since he broke away from us and ran to kiss Skinner ass, he’s been worse.”

“How much worse?”

“Worse as in full-on conspiracy theories, electronic security, false identities.” She chuckled and added, “The last time Ace spotted him, Daniels was wearing some kind of goofy disguise. Pathetic, really.”

“Was Ace able to follow Daniels back to where he lived?”

Reluctantly, Steph said, “No.”

“That is pathetic.” Tara stood up and stepped away from the table. Her guards hadn’t moved from their spots, but she didn’t seem concerned with them. “Is he paying you? Did you let him live as some sort of deal you had with the Skinners?”

“I told you, I’m not sure if—”

“I didn’t have to ask around very long to find out you steered a man from New York to Daniels around the time of the riots in Kansas City. Even supplied him with a few hitters to tear down some apartment buildings. Did that slip your mind or was there a good reason you failed to mention it?”

Steph chewed on the side of her tongue for a moment before saying, “Daniels mixes poison for them, but it’s nothing they can’t do without him. He does more work against the Full Bloods than against us. Killing him would have brought too much heat from the Skinners. More heat than setting their house on fire.”

“That heat doesn’t matter anymore. Can Daniels lead us to the Skinners or not?”

“If he doesn’t know where they are, he’ll be able to reach them. Paige and Cole are on his speed dial. But it’s not a good idea to just go crashing in there,” she warned. “He’s got protection. He’s still valuable to the Skinners and knows it.”

“Paige and Cole aren’t a threat,” Tara said.

“Can you guarantee that?”

Tara raised an eyebrow, which was enough to put a confident edge into her words when she said, “Just because we came out on top after the uprising doesn’t mean we can sit back and relax. The Skinners and every other human have their backs to the wall, which means now is the time to make the moves necessary to put the Nymar where they should always have been.”

“Things are good for us right now,” Steph said evenly. “Why push it?”

“Because the shapeshifters are ripping through humans like wet newspaper. When they’re done, they’ll come for us. If we’re not ready when that happens, we’ll take even heavier damages.”

“Daniels is too important to be killed. He was researching the spore, trying to find a way to survive on less blood without getting strung out. It’s been a few years. Who knows what else he may have come up with in that time?”

Tara’s eyes narrowed and she motioned toward one of her guards. “Tell me where he is. Now.”

Steph knocked her fist against the table, which was the signal for Astin to come out from the back room, “I don’t take orders from you.”

As Astin and another Nymar emerged from the back room with their guns drawn, the guards that Tara brought with her raised their weapons.

“Give me the address to those apartments,” Tara said calmly.

“His spore research will be important for all of us. When it’s done, it’s mine.”

“Agreed.”

Steph told her where to find Daniels in Schaumberg.

“Thanks,” Tara said as she started walking toward the door. Before leaving the bar, she glanced over her shoulder and said, “Just so you know, if you still feel this rebellious when the bigger orders start coming . . . you might want to pick out your favorite wall because I’ll do the nailing myself.”

Chapter Nineteen

Las Vegas, Nevada

Morning

T
hey weren’t kept prisoner within the massive temple, but none of them had the energy to leave. The beds in their suites were contained within crooked, driftwood frames. Huge, overstuffed cushions could barely be called mattresses, but they gave Cole the best night’s sleep he’d had in a long time. Even though he and Paige shared a bed, they were too exhausted to take full advantage of it. When they woke up, however, he climbed between her legs and worked up an appetite. There hadn’t been many times for them to be alone together without passing out from exhaustion or needing to sleep off some kind of injury. Her body was warm and familiar beneath his scarred palms. She closed her eyes, leaned back and accepted him inside of her without the slightest bit of hesitation.

Over the last several months, Cole had been betrayed and rescued by her. He’d stood by her side and they fought on opposite ends of the country. Sometimes he thought he had a better chance of translating the Dryad glyphs through sheer luck than understanding what was going on inside of her head. And then there were times when he knew she felt the same way about him. The simple fact was that it would be impossible to know why she did every little thing she did. He sure as hell didn’t intend on sitting her down and explaining all of his actions to her. Now that their lives depended on it, they had to trust each other implicitly. Times like these, when he was allowed to clasp his hands in hers and pin her to the flowing surface of a luxury bed while pumping into her at whatever pace he desired were one of the many payoffs of that trust.

He returned it by allowing her to roll on top of him, straddle his hips, and do whatever she pleased for as long as they could afford. He knew she wasn’t about to hurt him, but she came close a few times. Those few, brief tastes of pain that came from her teeth or nails scraping against his skin were worth every second. After that, he and Paige shared a long hot shower and indulged in some scented soaps that were probably more expensive than all of their clothing combined.

Breakfast was served in a dining room lit only by a wall of solid glass built to either catch the sun’s rays or the electric glow of the Strip. Cole felt the former on his face as he piled sausages, eggs, French toast sticks, and a heaping portion of corned beef hash onto a large, light green platter. Before he could ask for Tabasco sauce, he found three flavors on a smaller table along with utensils. The meal was still warm in his belly when he and the others headed back into the main room of the Hub.

Nobody was surprised to find the club only slightly less busy now than when they arrived. Even if the rest of the planet crumbled, there would still be plenty of people drawn to the dancing nymphs. It had been that way for thousands of years, so why should it stop now?

Alyssa and Lexi were on hand to greet them. Both wore short dresses that showed plenty of leg without being too revealing. Even so, the nymphs attracted plenty of attention from the customers as they walked over to greet the disheveled Skinners. “Was everything all right?” Lexi asked.

“It was great,” Waggoner beamed. “Maybe I’ll stay here for another few weeks.”

Just as Cole was about to make a comment about resisting temptation, he felt a cinching pain in his gut that cut all the way down to his spinal cord. Normally, the clenching tendrils inside eased up after a few hours of sleep, but not this time. They tightened, held, and then tightened some more. “I agree,” he said in a strained voice. “We should get going.”

As before, Tristan made her entrance without a lot of fanfare. She wore a simple dress made of a filmy green material enhanced with a minimum of small jewels sewn into the fabric. Her face was timeless, beautiful and free of makeup. Her posture didn’t seem as forced as it had been the other day, and her voice was almost up to its normal clarity when she asked, “Have you changed your mind on your destination?”

Paige reached under her jacket to tighten the straps on her holster without being noticed. It would take more than a few armed customers to create a distraction powerful enough to make a difference inside the Hub, but none of the Skinners were about to take chances. “No. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve made contact with our temple in Trizs,” she replied, pronouncing the last word with a roll of the tongue that every human within earshot could feel at the nape of their neck. “There’s already trouble there.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“The Amriany must have been discovered as they were on their way to meet you. They’ve been fighting since late afternoon their time.”

Cole looked at his watch. “Is that yesterday or today?”

“It’s been about four hours,” Tristan told him with a patient smirk. “The Amriany are holding their position, but it’s rough. There’s another temple several hundred miles from there, but it’s even farther from where you need to go once you arrive. I just thought I’d warn you before sending you into a war zone. Or, you could go to the other temple.”

“This is the first time in months that we’ve been out of a war zone,” Paige said. “Might as well stick to the plan. Besides, if we’re trying to win some points with the Amriany, abandoning them to fight when they were waiting for us wouldn’t do the trick.”

“All right, then.” With that, Tristan nodded once to Alyssa, who put on a smile that lit her up like a fireworks display.

The young blond nymph’s face brightened with a beaming smile as she raised both arms in the air. No further prompting was needed before her name was spoken by a sultry voice through the loudspeakers. Unlike most clubs, this one didn’t need an overly boisterous DJ. There was only an announcement of who was next up so the fans of that particular girl could fight for a front row seat before she made it to her spot. Alyssa stepped onto a large circular stage with two poles connected by a set of uneven parallel bars. As she cast off the little jacket she’d been wearing, she was hit by a beam of light reflected in myriad directions by the sequins sewn into her light blue thong and bikini top.

“Damn,” Waggoner breathed. “Now I really don’t wanna leave.”

The lights dimmed for a second, then flared back up to the driving beats of ZZ Top’s “Legs.” Alyssa strutted perfectly to that bass line before ascending one of the poles to climb along a cross bar. From the first crackle of electric guitar, the beads hanging from the rail behind her began to glow. As the light became more and more powerful, the crowd reacted as if it was just a part of the show.

“All right,” the sultry announcer said. “Who wants to join Alyssa for a special VIP party?”

“That’s your cue,” Tristan said. “When they call the numbers, just act surprised and go on up.”

The announcer made a point of aiming the spotlight at Starr as she pranced to the booth holding a large velvet bag that was supposed to be filled with numbers corresponding to tickets that every customer was given as they’d entered the club. The booth door opened and Starr went inside.

Energized from his breakfast and all the activity that led up to it, Cole approached Tristan without feeling the weight of the gear he carried in the bags strapped over both shoulders and hanging from one hand. “You doing okay?” he asked.

The Dryad turned to face him and him alone, fixing Cole with a set of eyes that singled him out amid an entire city of distractions. “Almost.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?”

“For asking you to sacrifice so much just to help us.”

“Many others have sacrificed much more,” she told him while reaching out to place a hand tenderly upon his arm. In her silence, Tristan no longer looked like a Dryad who might very well have been alive long enough to tempt sailors to the edges of maps scribbled on stained parchment. She’d never told him her age, but the longer Cole knew her, the more depth he saw in her eyes. It could very well be that hers was a sun that didn’t blind a man who gazed at it for too long. Instead, that man was granted a good look at a real celestial wonder.

“When you need to come back, either go to the club where we’re sending you or any of the other temples,” she said. “I’ll leave word with all of them in that region to grant you passage back home.”

“Should I drop your name to Chuna?”

“It wouldn’t help.” And then she leaned forward to place both hands on his face and hold him steady as she kissed him. It was a lingering, gentle kiss placed upon his lower lip, and when it was done, she held him in place to whisper, “You can’t let her feed you anymore, Cole. No matter how much it hurts. You can’t let her keep those things alive while the Nymar are watching.”

“What?”

“Think about it.”

As Cole’s ears filled with the sound of rushing blood, the air around him sprang to life in a pure white halo. A spotlight swept over him and the rest of the group, idly making its way along that portion of the room. The announcer called out some numbers, named a group that was supposed to be there for some stranger’s bachelor party. Whatever names or numbers were given, Cole was sure there were enough to cover everyone in the group. Tristan hadn’t screwed up any flight plans yet and he doubted she’d start now.

“Just don’t think too hard,” she said while gently rubbing his cheek. “The answers will be there when you get a moment to take a breath.”

“What do I do until then?” he asked.

She pointed him toward a stage glowing with light coming from spotlights as well as an intensifying green radiance emanating from the beaded curtain hanging from the ceiling. That same color pulsed constantly throughout the club as beautiful women stepped through other curtains hanging throughout the Hub. Some could have been entering the room from backstage, while others could have been coming in from anywhere else in the world. “Try to stay alive long enough to put the Memory Water to use,” she told him. “I don’t know what you’ve got in mind or if any plan can work at this point, but I learned a long time ago to never underestimate a Skinner.”

Cole had never felt as vulnerable as when he’d been about to step away from the comforting sphere of Tristan’s embrace. “What if we just screw things up even worse than they are now?”

“It would be quite a feat to make them any worse.”

Suddenly, he wasn’t so comforted anymore. “You remind me of the other brunette in my life.”

She patted his cheek, perhaps just a bit too hard, as if to pay a second tribute to Paige. “That’s the good thing about being on the bottom of the mountain. Nowhere to go but up.”

The numbers had all been read, the spotlight had found them, and the crowd was cheering them on. Paige and Waggoner bowed their heads and walked toward the stage while Cole waved and pumped his fists as if he truly had won the jackpot. Just another wild day in Vegas.