Bloodfever
Page 37
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His. Hes probably occupied with something else at the moment. If, when he disappeared through his portal, he went to Faery, time moves differently there.
Thats what Vlane said. I emptied the cash drawer, counted the bills into stacks, then began punching in numbers on an adding machine. The store wasnt computerized, which made bookkeeping a real pain in the neck.
He gave me a look. The two of you are getting downright chatty, arent you, Ms. Lane? When did you last see him? What else did he tell you?
Im asking the questions tonight. One day I was going to write a book: How to Dictate to a Dictator and Evade an Evader, subtitled How to Handle Jericho Barrons.
He snorted. If an illusion of control comforts you, Ms. Lane, by all means, cling to it.
Jackass. I gave him a look modeled on his own.
He laughed, and I stared, then blinked and looked away. I finished rubber-banding the cash, put it in a leather pouch, and punched the final numbers in, running the days total. For a moment there he hadnt looked dark, forbidding, and cold, but dark, forbidding, andwarm. In fact, when hed laughed hed lookedwellkind of hot.
I grimaced. Obviously Id eaten something bad for lunch. I inked the days earnings into the ledger, tucked the pouch into a safe behind me, then skirted the counter, and flipped the sign on the door. I waved to Inspector Jayne as I locked the door. I saw no point in pretending he wasnt there. I hoped he was wet, cold, and bored to tears. I certainly hadnt needed the reminder of ODuffys death staring me in the face all day.
What about Malluc? I asked. Is he definitely dead? Id been so busy worrying about the enemies I was seeing on a regular basis that I hadnt gotten around to worrying about the ones I hadnt seen in a while.
Mallucborn John Johnstone, Jr., to a wealthy British financierhad conveniently lost both his parents in a hit-and-run car accident that had never been resolved to the insurance companys satisfaction, and gained a nearly billion-dollar fortune at the same time, all at the tender age of twenty-four. Hed promptly divested himself of his redundant name, assumed the singular Malluc, and reentered society as one of the recently undead. That had been eight or nine years ago. Since then, hed acquired a worldwide cult following of true believers who traveled in droves to the south-side Goth mansion where the citron-eyed, steampunk vamp held court.
Whether or not he was really a vampireBarrons didnt seem to believe itwas anyones guess. All I knew for sure was that he was something more than human. Icy pale, tall with the slim, muscled body of a dancer, Id watched him fling a nearly seven-foot, massively bulked bodyguard across the room, to his death, with a single backhanded blow. I still wasnt sure how Id survived the blow Id taken that day in the DarkZone, after Id stabbed him with my spear.
There was a memorial service at his compound last week, Barrons replied.
Yes! This was what Id been waiting for, his worshippers to mourn him! So, hes dead. I encouraged him to say the words. Despite how certain his news made me, I wanted Barrons verbal confirmation that there was one less bad guy out there after me now.
He said nothing.
Oh, why wont you just say it? If you hold a memorial service for someone whos undead then he must be no longer un, which means hes dead. Right? Otherwise they would have held a creepy welcome-back-to-life service, not a weepy well-always-remember-you service.
I told you, Ms. Lane, never believe anythings dead
I know, I know, until youve burned it, poked around in its ashes, and then waited a day or two to see if anything rises from them, I shot back at him dryly, with a roll of my eyes. According to Barrons, some things couldnt be killed. Hed strongly hinted that vampires fell into that category. Obviously Barrons hadnt read Vampires for Dummies. According to the VFDs authors, whod allegedly interviewed hundreds of undead in their quest for the truth even dummies could follow (Malluc was so famous theyd devoted an entire chapter to him), vampires were easily staked and tidily dispatched and subject to all kinds of worldly limitations and afflictions.
His solicitor was at the auction, Ms. Lane, bidding heavily on several items, including the amulet.
My hopes went flat as a tire on nails. Hes alive?
It would be unwise to speculate. It could be that someone else is pursuing his interests, using his name and representatives as a front. Perhaps the Lord Master has assumed control of Mallucs finances and following. There would be little to stop him.
That was a frightening thought. Whatever fanatic worshippers Malluc had managed to acquire, I had no doubt the Lord Master could increase tenfold. Though Id seen him only once, his face was permanently etched in my memory, in fine detail. Id studied the photos that had been taken of him and my sister in and around Dublin, for hours. He was inhumanly beautiful, like a Fae, but not Fae. My sidhe-seer take on him had been as confused as my take on Malluc. Humanbutnot quite human.
Of one thing I was certain: On a charisma scale of one to ten, my sisters ex-boyfriend was an eleven. Mallucs followers wouldnt stand a chance. Theyd fall on their knees, supplicant in a heartbeat. The night Id stolen the OOP that Malluc had been hiding from the Lord Master, Id seen enough of his groupies to know they were so desperate for something to live for that theyd die to get it. That was more oxymoronic than jumbo shrimp in my book. Not to mention just plain moronic.
Thats what Vlane said. I emptied the cash drawer, counted the bills into stacks, then began punching in numbers on an adding machine. The store wasnt computerized, which made bookkeeping a real pain in the neck.
He gave me a look. The two of you are getting downright chatty, arent you, Ms. Lane? When did you last see him? What else did he tell you?
Im asking the questions tonight. One day I was going to write a book: How to Dictate to a Dictator and Evade an Evader, subtitled How to Handle Jericho Barrons.
He snorted. If an illusion of control comforts you, Ms. Lane, by all means, cling to it.
Jackass. I gave him a look modeled on his own.
He laughed, and I stared, then blinked and looked away. I finished rubber-banding the cash, put it in a leather pouch, and punched the final numbers in, running the days total. For a moment there he hadnt looked dark, forbidding, and cold, but dark, forbidding, andwarm. In fact, when hed laughed hed lookedwellkind of hot.
I grimaced. Obviously Id eaten something bad for lunch. I inked the days earnings into the ledger, tucked the pouch into a safe behind me, then skirted the counter, and flipped the sign on the door. I waved to Inspector Jayne as I locked the door. I saw no point in pretending he wasnt there. I hoped he was wet, cold, and bored to tears. I certainly hadnt needed the reminder of ODuffys death staring me in the face all day.
What about Malluc? I asked. Is he definitely dead? Id been so busy worrying about the enemies I was seeing on a regular basis that I hadnt gotten around to worrying about the ones I hadnt seen in a while.
Mallucborn John Johnstone, Jr., to a wealthy British financierhad conveniently lost both his parents in a hit-and-run car accident that had never been resolved to the insurance companys satisfaction, and gained a nearly billion-dollar fortune at the same time, all at the tender age of twenty-four. Hed promptly divested himself of his redundant name, assumed the singular Malluc, and reentered society as one of the recently undead. That had been eight or nine years ago. Since then, hed acquired a worldwide cult following of true believers who traveled in droves to the south-side Goth mansion where the citron-eyed, steampunk vamp held court.
Whether or not he was really a vampireBarrons didnt seem to believe itwas anyones guess. All I knew for sure was that he was something more than human. Icy pale, tall with the slim, muscled body of a dancer, Id watched him fling a nearly seven-foot, massively bulked bodyguard across the room, to his death, with a single backhanded blow. I still wasnt sure how Id survived the blow Id taken that day in the DarkZone, after Id stabbed him with my spear.
There was a memorial service at his compound last week, Barrons replied.
Yes! This was what Id been waiting for, his worshippers to mourn him! So, hes dead. I encouraged him to say the words. Despite how certain his news made me, I wanted Barrons verbal confirmation that there was one less bad guy out there after me now.
He said nothing.
Oh, why wont you just say it? If you hold a memorial service for someone whos undead then he must be no longer un, which means hes dead. Right? Otherwise they would have held a creepy welcome-back-to-life service, not a weepy well-always-remember-you service.
I told you, Ms. Lane, never believe anythings dead
I know, I know, until youve burned it, poked around in its ashes, and then waited a day or two to see if anything rises from them, I shot back at him dryly, with a roll of my eyes. According to Barrons, some things couldnt be killed. Hed strongly hinted that vampires fell into that category. Obviously Barrons hadnt read Vampires for Dummies. According to the VFDs authors, whod allegedly interviewed hundreds of undead in their quest for the truth even dummies could follow (Malluc was so famous theyd devoted an entire chapter to him), vampires were easily staked and tidily dispatched and subject to all kinds of worldly limitations and afflictions.
His solicitor was at the auction, Ms. Lane, bidding heavily on several items, including the amulet.
My hopes went flat as a tire on nails. Hes alive?
It would be unwise to speculate. It could be that someone else is pursuing his interests, using his name and representatives as a front. Perhaps the Lord Master has assumed control of Mallucs finances and following. There would be little to stop him.
That was a frightening thought. Whatever fanatic worshippers Malluc had managed to acquire, I had no doubt the Lord Master could increase tenfold. Though Id seen him only once, his face was permanently etched in my memory, in fine detail. Id studied the photos that had been taken of him and my sister in and around Dublin, for hours. He was inhumanly beautiful, like a Fae, but not Fae. My sidhe-seer take on him had been as confused as my take on Malluc. Humanbutnot quite human.
Of one thing I was certain: On a charisma scale of one to ten, my sisters ex-boyfriend was an eleven. Mallucs followers wouldnt stand a chance. Theyd fall on their knees, supplicant in a heartbeat. The night Id stolen the OOP that Malluc had been hiding from the Lord Master, Id seen enough of his groupies to know they were so desperate for something to live for that theyd die to get it. That was more oxymoronic than jumbo shrimp in my book. Not to mention just plain moronic.
