Midnight Blue-Light Special
Page 51

“Now?” Rochak glanced at the clock over the door. “We close in an hour. If I try to clear this place out before then, it’ll be a madhouse. I think the best thing to do is close normally, then put a sign on the door saying that we’re doing inventory and will reopen after the weekend. That should buy us a few days.”
“That sounds good,” I said. “Do you have someplace to go?”
Rochak shook his head.
I could practically feel Candy’s glare on the back of my neck as I sighed and said, “Well, we do. Providing you can agree to stay inside until this is over, I’ve got a place you can go to ground.”
“Is it safe?”
“It’s as safe as anyplace else in this town. Safer, if everyone stays careful and follows the rules. Kitty at the Freakshow would also be willing to give you sanctuary, if you don’t mind bunking with her entire staff.”
Rochak made a face. “I’d rather not. I’m unhappy enough at the idea of leaving the café without adding a bunch of strangers to the equation.”
The Nest was full of strangers, too, but there would be fewer of them; maybe that would help. I decided not to mention it for the moment. “Then you come with us. We’ll stay here long enough to let you shut things down, and then we’ll take you back to our current haven.”
“Thank you.” Rochak put the tray down and seized my free hand in both of his, holding tightly. “I don’t know how I can possibly thank you enough. Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to us.”
“It’s my job,” I said. Then I blinked, and repeated, almost wonderingly, “It’s my job.”
“Very?” Uncle Mike frowned. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I just need to go upstairs and make a few phone calls. Rochak, can I use your apartment?”
He nodded, reclaiming his hand. “Please. What’s mine is yours.”
“Great. Have some more gingerbread, Uncle Mike. I’ll be right back.” I turned on my heel and left the room, heading for the stairs up to the second-floor apartment that Rochak shared with his brother. I didn’t look back.
My dance partner wasn’t home. “Hello, world. You’ve reached the home of James and Dennis Garcia. Leave your message at the tone, and we’ll call you when there’s enough of a pause in the glorious adventure of our lives.” James’ gleeful monologue was cut off by the sound of a shrill beep.
I cleared my throat. “James, it’s Verity. You need to take Dennis on a nice vacation, and you need to go now. Something nice and far away. Maybe a cruise to Hawaii. Leave tomorrow, and don’t come back until you hear that the city’s clear.” I hesitated before adding the second part of my message: “When you get back . . . I think it’s time for you to start looking for a new partner. We both knew this was coming. I wish it didn’t have to end this way, but it’s not fair of me to keep holding you back because my heart isn’t in it anymore. Thank you so much, for everything. You’ve been wonderful to dance with.”
I hung up the phone and stared blankly at the wall of Sunil and Rochak’s apartment for several minutes, waiting for my heart to start beating normally again. There it was; that was it. I was done. I could teach dance classes, I could participate in local competitions, but with one little phone call, I had finally put the nail in the coffin of my professional ballroom dreams. And oddly, it hurt less than I had expected it to. Maybe my parents were right when they said that spending a year away from home would be exactly what I needed to set my priorities straight. At the time, I’d laughed at them, saying that all a year in New York would do was make damn sure I never took off my tango shoes . . . when really, a year in New York was what it took to teach me that dancing was my heart, but cryptozoology was my soul.
I shook my head, clearing away the cobwebs, and lifted my phone again. This time, I dialed the Freakshow office. Kitty picked up, with a sultry, “You’ve reached the Freakshow, how may we fulfill your midway fantasies today?”
“Okay, you have got to stop answering the phone like that. You sound like you’re running a bordello, not a perfectly respectable titty bar.”
“Sometimes people can’t tell the difference, and it helps bring in business,” said Kitty, dropping the artificial seduction as quickly as she’d put it on. She was all business now. “What’s the news, Verity?”
“I won’t be coming to work tomorrow.”
“I didn’t expect you.”
“Neither will Istas.” Istas wasn’t aware of it yet, but with as many noncombatants as we now had at the Nest, either she or Ryan would need to be there at all times. It was a security measure. “She’s staying with me.”
“That’s fine. Let her know that she’ll be getting paid regardless, since you wouldn’t be keeping her away if you didn’t really need her. Anything else?”
“There are three Covenant operatives in town.” I sketched out their descriptions and provided their names, adding, “Dominic may be traveling with them. I think he’s still on our side, but it’s hard to be certain, and there’s evidence both ways. Watch for anybody seen in his company. He doesn’t know where I am, and we’re keeping it that way. The new Covenant folks have telepathy blockers that may work on other forms of psychic ability and confusion charms. Keep them away from the hidebehinds if you possibly can.”
“Honey, I’m keeping the Covenant of St. George away from everyone if I possibly can.”
“That’s a good approach. I’ll keep you posted to the best of my ability. Things are about to get pretty messy around here, and I’m not sure how much time I’m going to have.”
Kitty sighed. “Verity, you’ve done more than anyone could ask you to. This isn’t your fight.”
I looked around the perfectly domestic little apartment where, once, three siblings sat and dreamed of a new life, one that involved owning a dessert café of their very own. Below me, the two who survived would be shutting things down, getting ready to abandon their dream—even if temporarily—for the sake of their lives. They shouldn’t have had to do that. No one should have to do that.
Dreams mattered. I shook my head, even knowing that Kitty couldn’t see it. “No,” I said. “This has always been my fight. This is everyone’s fight.”