Part I Part 144 (2/2)
”I've had a pro hitter following me ever since I landed yesterday. The itch between my shoulder blades got annoying.”
I glanced around. ”Is he here now?”
Thomas's eyes glittered. ”No. I introduced him to my sisters.”
The White Court were the most human of the vampires and in some ways the weakest. They fed on psychic energies, on pure life force rather than on blood. Most often, they would seduce those they fed upon, drawing life from them through physical contact during the act. If a couple of Thomas's sisters had met the hired gun tailing Thomas, the a.s.sa.s.sin probably wasn't going to be a problem to anyone. Ever. My eye twitched.
”The gunman was probably Ortega's,” I said. ”He hired some goons to take out people I knew if I didn't agree to this duel.”
”That explains it, then,” Thomas said. ”Ortega really doesn't like me much. Must be the unsavory company I've kept in the past.”
”Gee, thanks. How the h.e.l.l did you end up his second?”
”It's my father's idea of a joke,” Thomas said. ”Ortega asked him to be his second. Show of solidarity between the Red and White Courts. Instead, Daddy dearest found the most annoying and insulting member of the family he possibly could to stand in.”
”You,” I said.
”C'est moi,” Thomas confirmed with a little bow. ”One would almost think Father was trying to get me killed.” Thomas confirmed with a little bow. ”One would almost think Father was trying to get me killed.”
I felt one side of my mouth tug up into a smile. ”Nice father figure. Him and Bill Cosby. How's Justine?”
Thomas grimaced. ”She's in Aruba is how she is. Which is where I was until one of pappa Raith's goons dragged me back up here.”
”What did you two decide on for the duel?”
Thomas shook his head. ”Can't tell you. s.h.i.+ro is supposed to do that. I mean, technically I'm at war with you.”
I grimaced and stared after Ortega's vanished car. ”Yeah.”
Thomas was quiet for a second, then said, ”He means to kill you.”
”I know.”
”He's dangerous, Harry. Smart. My father is afraid of him.”
”I could like him,” I said. ”It's sort of refres.h.i.+ng to have someone trying to kill me right to my face, instead of throwing me a bunch of curveb.a.l.l.s and shooting me in the back. It's almost nice to have a fair fight.”
”Sure. Theoretically.”
”Theoretically?”
Thomas shrugged. ”Ortega's been alive for about six hundred years. It isn't something you do by playing nice.”
”From what I've heard, the Archive will object to any monkey business.”
”It's only cheating if he gets caught.”
I frowned at him and said, ”Are you saying someone is planning to avoid getting caught?”
Thomas put his hands in his jacket pockets. ”I'm not saying anything. I wouldn't mind seeing you kick his a.s.s, but I'm sure as h.e.l.l not going to do something that would attract attention to me.”
”You intend to partic.i.p.ate without being involved. That's clever.”
Thomas rolled his eyes. ”I won't throw a banana peel under you. But don't expect any help from me, either. I'm just making sure it's a fair fight and then I'm back at my beach house.” He drew car keys from his pocket and headed for the parking lot. ”Good luck.”
”Thomas,” I said to his back. ”Thanks for the heads-up.”
He paused.
I asked, ”Why do it?”
The vampire glanced over his shoulder at me and smiled. ”Life would be unbearably dull if we had answers to all our questions.” He walked out to a white sports car and slipped into it. A second later, loud, screaming metal music started from the car's stereo, the engine roared, and Thomas drove off.
I checked my watch. Ten more minutes until Susan arrived. s.h.i.+ro emerged from McAnnally's and put on his gla.s.ses. Once he spotted me, he walked over and took the gla.s.ses off again. ”Ortega refused to cancel the duel?”
”He made me an offer I couldn't excuse,” I said.
s.h.i.+ro grunted. ”Duel is wills. Tomorrow, just after sundown. Wrigley Field.”
”A stadium? Why don't we put it on pay-per-view while we're at it.” I glowered at the street and checked my watch again. ”I'm meeting someone in a minute. I'll give you the keys to my car. I can pick it up from Michael's tomorrow.”
”No need,” s.h.i.+ro said. ”Mac called me a cab.”
”Okay.” I pocketed my keys.
s.h.i.+ro stood quietly for a moment, lips pursed thoughtfully, before he said, ”Ortega means to kill you.”
”Yes. Yes, he does,” I said. I managed not to grind my teeth as I said it. ”Everyone is saying that like I didn't know it already.”
”But you do not know how how.” I frowned and looked down at s.h.i.+ro. His shaved head gleamed under a nearby streetlight. ”The war is not your fault.”
”I know that,” I said, but my voice lacked conviction.
”No,” s.h.i.+ro said. ”It truly truly is not your fault.” is not your fault.”
”What do you mean?”
”The Red Court has been quietly building its resources for years,” he said. ”How else were they ready to start their attacks in Europe only days after you defeated Bianca?”
I frowned at him.
s.h.i.+ro drew a cigar from inside his jacket and bit off the end. He spat it to one side. ”You were not the cause of the war. You were merely the excuse. The Reds would have attacked when they were ready.”
”No,” I said. ”That's not how it is. I mean, d.a.m.n near everyone I've spoken to on the Council-”
s.h.i.+ro snorted. He struck a match and puffed on the cigar a few times while he lit it. ”The Council. Arrogant. As if nothing significant could happen unless a wizard did it.”
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