Goddess With a Blade (7 page)

By the time she made it downstairs to her office to make the call, she was back on track. David tended to the gashes quickly and efficiently and when he returned from putting the first-aid supplies away, it was with a hot cup of tea and a lemon scone.

She swallowed the swell of emotion and thanked him before turning to the phone.

After midnight in Vegas, but the partners at the Motherhouse in London and their counterparts in Paris would be up several hours before dawn. Hunters worked when the sun went down far more often than when it was up.

Susan’s face showed up first on the display, followed by her husband, Rex, and from Paris, Celesse Blanc, Rowan’s original trainer.

“We got your message, Rowan.” Susan sipped some tea as she looked through her notes and then back to the screen. “Explain.”

She told them the entire story from the trip out to Barstow to her confrontation with Clive. Well, not the sex part, but everything else.

Rex began to work, clicking away on his keyboard. He was the master of the Hunter Archives so she knew he’d be searching on Rossinni as well as looking for any references to the victim or her compatriots.

“We deem this a clean kill.” Celesse’s voice was smooth, but her past with Rowan wasn’t. Still, they’d achieved a decent enough working relationship in the years since Rowan had left Paris.

“The Nation has already communicated this to the partners. The Scion of Las Vegas himself signed off. Good work, Rowan.” Susan looked at the screen over the top of her glasses.

Rowan stifled her amusement at how Susan often took on the affectation of an older, mild woman when she was so very
not
mild. Rowan had learned a lot of masks from The First, but it was Susan who’d sharpened Rowan’s skills and given her a direction.

“Why don’t you think this is the end, Rowan?” Celesse raised a single brow, just ever so slightly. “The Scion underlined his belief that it was.”

Yes, and Vampires were so known for their integrity. However, that was not a crack Celesse would suffer lightly. The woman was all business and frowned upon what she thought of as Rowan’s bad attitude.

“I am aware Stewart feels that way. But I don’t believe he’s correct.”

“Why do you think you and he are not in accord?”

Susan huffed her annoyance but Rowan needed to handle this herself.

“I believe that he, like most people, would rather take the easy solution than pursue the complicated one. I’m sure he wishes this were the truth and he’s taking a gamble it will be.” Rowan shrugged. “But I can’t afford to live in the land of make-believe. Every instinct I have, as well as common sense, tells me the Vampire sent after me was a ploy, a poorly planned one at that. He was old, but not that old, and not very smart. He died decently enough, but the kill of the White woman was something more than run-of-the mill Vampire violence.”

Rowan shook her head once, hard. “Rossinni wasn’t the killer. I’ll stake my reputation on that.”

Celesse studied her for long moments and then sniffed delicately before one of those Gallic shrugs. “I believe you’re correct.”

“Keep us apprised.” Susan shuffled the papers into the file before looking to the screen again. “Thank you for your service, Rowan.”

And with that, she turned the screen off and slumped in her chair.

“
Déesse,
you need to rest.”

“I know, I know. Thank you, David.”

Chapter Ten

The next morning Rowan walked out the front glass doors and headed toward her car. Instead she saw the cab and the life went out of her.
Shit,
Crazy Carl the taxi man.

She looked longingly at her pretty red Porsche and then back to the beat-up cab. Carl grinned and winked beneath the brim of his ratty orange cowboy hat. A grizzled handlebar mustache, the color of mud, punctuated his upper lip. He nearly always wore wraparound sunglasses but she’d seen his eyes once or twice. Enough to know they were pale, pale green.

“Hey there, Margie! Come on for a ride. I got a few new pieces for you to check out.”

She sighed and looked to David, who quickly covered his mouth with his fingers.

Carl hopped out and opened her door as she slid into the backseat of his cab and tried very hard not to stare at the stuffed baby somethingorother he’d attached to his dash. Whateverthefuck it was, it had a stuffed snake in its mouth. This had long day written all over it.

He got in and peeled out of the drive, swerving on a wide arc onto Las Vegas Boulevard. As per usual, there seemed to be no traffic to impede him until he got settled in to talk.

The whole interior of the taxi held a menagerie of stuffed dead things. Carl, in addition to being some kind of scribe, was also an amateur taxidermist. Stuffed snakes slithered along the backs of the seats, rodents of all sorts danced around and teeth hung from the rearview mirror.

Rowan knew better than to rush him. He’d get to the point in his own time and not a second before. She’d gotten into Carl’s cab for the first time six years before and had tried to get right back out when the face of a small coyote leered at her over the seat. Carl had chuckled and locked the doors. He’d also told her, in his own roundabout, rambling way, she’d be staying in Vegas.

And so he showed up from time to time, could be a year between sightings and then three weeks in a row. Carl had his own schedule and his own way of delivering wisdom. While he may not always have been one hundred percent clear, he’d never been wrong.

Rowan didn’t know what he was or even who he was, and he never got her name right. But despite her annoyance, she had deep affection for Crazy Carl and respected him, too.

Instead of speaking, he played the soundtrack to
Xanadu
and she knew without a doubt she’d be hearing ELO and Olivia Newton John in her head for days.

They hit traffic near the Mandalay Bay and she leaned back. He turned the music off and took a deep breath. “You got a birthday coming up if I recall.”

“Yes. In February.” She hoped all this bullshit with Vampire killers would be over by then.

As if he’d heard her thoughts, he spoke again. “Spending time with your kin is important. So many people only get to see one side of you. It’s good to remember all your facets. And I never did know any girl who didn’t like presents. And you, Carla, well if any lady needed some presents it’s you.”

Anyone but Carl and she’d wonder if he was insulting her.

He tapped a giant, mean-looking stuffed snake he’d artfully posed dangling from the mouth of the thing on his dash. “I went camping with my youngest last weekend, saw a diamondback. Course he—my son, not the snake—was such a pussy, cried like a girl when I grabbed it with the stick and held it out for him to look at. Takes after his mother that way I ’spose. Anyway, it’s there right in front of you. Head the size of my boot!” He chuckled and Rowan leaned in slightly to look at the snake for a moment.

“Very nice. I thought your sons wouldn’t go camping with you anymore.”

“Told them I had cancer. My oldest wouldn’t come anyway but the younger one fell for it. Now he’s pretty hacked off at me. You’d think he’d have been relieved to know I didn’t really have cancer. Stomped back to the car and slept in it all night long.”

Rowan met a slice of his eyes just above the sunglasses in the rearview and shook her head at him while grinning. She’d thought her own upbringing was insane but with Carl for a dad? She couldn’t imagine how much money those boys would spend on therapy. She’d once asked him why he could have children if he wasn’t human and he’d just snorted and called her Mavis for the next hour.

“Well, I’m glad you don’t have cancer, Carl. I’m also glad I never have to go camping with you. I like luxury and the fact that no one shoves snakes in my face at midnight.”

“You’re no fun. You should come out with me sometime.”

“I’ll have to take a pass on that. I like running water, expensive sheets and room service. But I’d be happy to buy you a drink or dinner.”

“Rhoda, I’ve been seeing mountain lions just north of the city. You know how rare that is? Still, ya gotta be careful. Even when you think you know the terrain and the animals won’t hurt ya unless you hurt them, they’re still predators. Predators know one thing. To hunt and kill. Sometimes the only way to deal with that is to hunt and kill them first, even if they are awesome creatures. Can’t fuss about anything being what it’s meant to be. Can’t change it. You can only end it.” He paused as if to appreciate the idea as she focused on everything he’d said, and not said.

Rowan’s breathing slowed. She wanted to ask him to clarify but she knew he wouldn’t. Sages did what they did and there was no cross examination or Wikipedia entry for it.

He met her eyes in the mirror briefly. “Thing about hunting is you have to trust your gut. I expect you know that. Tough girl like you, though, thinks her brain knows more than her gut. Perhaps they’ve trained you to believe so. Sometimes it’s the best way to be. Not now though.” He put the car in Park and, startled, she looked up to discover they’d returned to the drive in front of the hotel.

“Here you are, Sally. Have yourself a real good day. Twelve fifty, please.”

Shaking her head to clear it, she thrust a twenty at him, and squeezed his hand when he took it. “Keep it.”

He grinned. “You’re a good girl. Watch your back and don’t forget that the closer you are to home, the more dangerous your path gets.” He let go of her hand and some tourists glared at her until she got out. Good luck to ’em. Carl turned on the stereo and suddenly Willie Nelson’s voice filled the space beneath the awning as he cackled and drove off.

“Is everything all right?” David approached.

“I guess. He said a lot. Some of it I understand. Some I won’t until whatever he’s warning me about springs on me.” She shrugged. “He warned me about the Vampire I’m hunting. So at least he believes I haven’t found the killer yet. How long was I gone?” She noticed the sun had begun to set.

“Nearly five hours.”

“Oh no! I missed brunch at Thena and Martin’s.”

“I called them for you,
Déesse.
Ms. Thena told me to inform you they’d make it dinner instead.”

“Thank you, David. I’ll be going now. Please take the evening off. Tomorrow too. I need to do some work so I’m going to hunker down here for a while.”

He smiled, tipping his head in thanks and she took off for Thena’s.

“Thank Goddess those scratches are nearly healed.” Thena put more potatoes on Rowan’s plate as Martin poured more wine into her glass.

“I’d have gone postal if they’d left a scar. I suppose carrying holy water around is good for more than just maiming Vampires.”

Rowan told them about Carl’s ride and briefly about the fight with Clive,
sans
the hot, furtive, guilty sex-on-the-desk part.

“What aren’t you saying?” Thena narrowed her eyes.

“He’s a self-righteous prick. The Vampire who attacked me yesterday was sent by the killer. This killer isn’t going to be stupid enough to come to me himself. You’d think one as old as the Scion would know that. They’re his own people, after all. Also he was easy to slay. Hello, this guy I’m looking for is not going to die easy.” She shoved half a roll in her mouth and let the carbs soothe her anger.

“They’re his people but he’s not like this killer. For whatever else his crimes, what I hear is that this Vampire Scion is an honorable sort. For a Vampire anyway. He
would
do his own dirty work, or at the very least hire a decent assassin. But the real question is, why are you so upset he doesn’t believe you?”

“What do you know about it?” Rowan glared at Thena.

“Oh I know you’re not getting an attitude with me, missy.” Thena raised one brow and Martin chuckled, relaxing to watch the interplay between them.

“I’ll give you an attitude if I want to.” Rowan snorted and swatted away the pea that landed in her hair. “It’s the typical Vampire bullshit. He thinks he’s so superior with his designer suits and hand-sewn Italian loafers. A human couldn’t possibly know more than he does. He’s dismissed my opinion—my expertise—out of hand because I’m not a Vampire. I don’t tell him how to make investments, do I? He shouldn’t tell me how to hunt lawbreakers. We all have our own special skill set. The only way he’s going to see the light is when another body shows up and I hate that.”

Thena dropped her fork and grabbed Rowan’s hands. “You’re
fucking
him. Girl, you like playing with fire don’t you? Oh my Goddess. Not gonna lie, I’ve seen his picture and it’s not like I can’t understand why you’d nail him. How is he? Don’t even tell me he didn’t make you come and come.”

Heart beating wildly, Rowan hoped she didn’t look as guilty as she felt. “I am not!” Technically true, as she meant she wasn’t going to tell Thena he had, indeed, made her come with barely even a touch of his fingers. Rowan yanked her hands back and wiped them on her pants. Thena wouldn’t ever use her magicks to persuade Rowan to share something, not short of an apocalyptic emergency, but she was still intuitive. “Ew! In case you hadn’t noticed, he’s a
Vampire.
I don’t do Vampires.”

Gaze narrowed, Thena looked her over and then snorted. “You are so totally lying. But fine, I’ll play your game for now. You’ll come to me soon enough and then you will tell me every last juicy detail about what he’s like in bed. In the meantime, I don’t need to remind you how dangerous this could be for you—you know, if you
are
lying, which I know you are, about having fuckytimes with the Scion.”

Rowan rolled her eyes but breathed an inner sigh of relief that Thena was letting the subject go. She wasn’t ready to think about it much less discuss it with her friend. She didn’t want it to be so exciting. Didn’t want the memory of how he’d felt deep within her to make her shiver. She should hate him. She should hate herself for not hating him and what his people had done to her and her family.

She couldn’t seem to control that. But she could keep her ass as far away from him as possible to avoid a repeat. No matter how much it made her tingle.