Chapter 4 – Jack #2
“All the more reason to be here, where no one can see, and the bed can apparently be used as an earthquake shelter.” She sniffed.
“But, really, Jack—your old Mistress was keeping something awful out there. We’ve had our archivists go back through centuries of files.
Something unwholesome attacked the both of us that night, and we need to know what it was so we can hunt it down and kill it. ”
“This still seems like a you problem,” I told her.
She gave an exasperated sigh. “Do you know of anything else out there? Any help, or hints?” Her dark brown eyes implored me. “You were there, Jack. You know how dangerous it was.”
I did indeed. I’d taken her out to let her see where one of her fellow Faithful had died, at Rosalie’s henchmen’s hands.
Sam had used some magic and then taken .
. . ill? Had fainted? Been drained? I didn’t know what verb to use, only that when I tried to pull her out of the shadow she’d fallen into, I knew I was fighting something dark and evil for her life.
I could still remember the precise caliber of cold it had made me.
Like . . . astrally so. The cold of space between the stars.
A cold like yearning for forgiveness from a dead man.
“Please?” she asked.
I closed my eyes, already knowing I was going to regret what I said next.
“Rosalie called it the Sleeper. She kept it locked down there, and kept it fed.” I’d seen the stone coffin the thing had lived in, and had assumed the grooves carved on the front of it were to channel blood down to whatever lay inside.
Sam ran her tongue across her teeth. “That doesn’t ring a bell.”
“That’s all I’ve got for you.”
Her shoulders fell as she stood up. “I’ll tell the archivists. It’s a start.”
“Good luck?” I guessed, as she walked past me for the door, then parsed everything she’d already said. “Hey—why’re you having to hunt down it if you know where it is?”
Her lips twisted to the side. “Because it’s not there anymore.”
I paused as that sank in. “Before or after we murdered twenty vampires to get you that deed?”
Her graceful hands lifted. “Who can say? We didn’t go check until the land was ours. And, in general, the only good vampire is a dead vampire. Present company excluded.”
“Fuck you,” I said reflexively, and she laughed.
“It’s a compliment, Jack. You’re one of the good ones.” One of her eyebrows arched up, so I knew she knew exactly what that sounded like when she said it. “Well, you and your friend, so far,” she amended.
My jaw ground, and then I realized she was talking about Paco. “How is he?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.
“Living clean,” she said, by which I knew she meant so far he’d only fed on sex, not death. “Takes after you. We’ll likely stop keeping an eye on him shortly.”
Questions raced up to be asked, but I reined them back.
Where was he?
Was he okay?
Was he ever coming back?
“Anyhow. I’ve kept you from your evening’s activities for long enough.” She walked straight up to me. “Hold still.”
I was just about to ask her why, when she made some sort of pattern with her hands in front of me, casting stripes of light around like streamers. I threw up an arm to protect my vision. “What the fuck?” I complained.
“Does it burn?” she asked.
“No, it’s bright as shit, though.” When I lowered my arm, she was giving me a strange look. “What?”
“I need to check in with my superiors.”
“Have fun doing that outside. In the parking lot,” I said, shooing her with my hands. “But make sure you tell Fran I did a good job first, and you’d better fucking tip.”
“Already handled,” she said, reaching into her pockets to pull out two tickets and hand them over. I scanned the word “ballet” and gave her a look.
“Cash only,” I said.
“Don’t worry. I’ve already paid for this particular experience, in more ways than one.” Her eyes rolled over me in a desultory fashion, as she plunked the tickets into my chest. “But these are for you.”
I took them. I knew Luna liked ballet, and I knew better than to ask how the Faithful knew that as well—if they had a file on Paco, they certainly had one on her. Luna had been Rosalie’s right-hand human. “Why would you be giving me anything other than a hard time, Sam?”
“You saved my life, Jack. Can’t I just give you something nice?”
“Nice? For free? In this town?” I expressed my skepticism like only the most jaded Vegas local could.
Sam laughed. “I’m the good guy here, remember?” She edged around me for the door. “And, I can’t believe I’m about to say this but . . . do me a favor, will you?” Before I could say no, she went on. “Stay topped up. I think we’ve got upcoming business together.”
I straightened at once, realizing what she meant. “Did you, a pure-ass Faithful, literally just tell me to go get some?”
“Merely pure,” she corrected me. “‘Pure-ass’ is kind of a contradiction in terms. And we prefer the term ‘good.’”
“Answer the question.”
She shrugged lightly. “It’s just a feeling I have,” she said, darting into the hall before I could stop her. “I’ll be in touch.”
She made it sound like I didn’t have a choice in the matter. “I can give you my phone number, you know,” I shouted after her, to stop her from trying to meet me again here, or at Dark Ink.
“I already have it!” she shouted back, tossing back a dismissive wave.