Part 8 (1/2)

Boring, Brynna thought. If this is how the legal segment of humans spends their days, I think I'd rather work at Cocinero's restaurant. this is how the legal segment of humans spends their days, I think I'd rather work at Cocinero's restaurant.

Riding the elevator down to the ground floor of the Willis Tower was, perhaps, the most fun she'd had all day. The suit she was wearing fit well enough, but the pantyhose and shoes had to have been invented as subversive methods of female physical torture. She supposed she'd get used to them, but it gave Brynna a new level of empathy for all the women she'd seen walking around downtown. Did they really spend every day stuffed into these horrible outfits?

Maybe she wouldn't feel so cantankerous if she'd been able to give this human body more sleep, but that was an issue that wasn't likely to be resolved anytime soon. The woman whose husband Brynna had dispatched last Tuesday had not been silent about her rescuer, and now everyone in the building was calling Brynna guardia, guardia, a nickname that was d.a.m.ned ironic given some of the ch.o.r.es with which she'd previously been charged in h.e.l.l. a nickname that was d.a.m.ned ironic given some of the ch.o.r.es with which she'd previously been charged in h.e.l.l.

The first couple of nights had been ... interesting, to say the least, as though the local g.a.n.g.b.a.n.gers had felt the need to test her. At least there'd been no more guns, which was fine by her. Nothing and no one in the building was really worthy of firepower anyway, although a couple of knives had flashed in Brynna's direction and a couple of faces had bled in response. Things had settled to fairly quiet, but if there was a one-to-ten scale of satisfying slumber, Brynna stayed at three ... if she was lucky. Some wannabe evil human barely registered when compared to what Brynna was really really worried about. Better to forgo the nightly shut-eye than to wake to the sight of a Hunter leering down at her. worried about. Better to forgo the nightly shut-eye than to wake to the sight of a Hunter leering down at her.

Somehow she wasn't surprised to see Redmond's car parked in a red zone in front of the main Wacker Drive entrance, the same one she'd used this morning. He was driving a standard-issue black police sedan, and if he was offering, there was no question she'd accept a ride; her cell phone had rung at six-thirty a.m. and he'd rattled off an address, saying she needed to be there by nine to translate for something called a deposition.

It was a good thing she didn't require much in the way of primping, because finding a bus that would take her all the way downtown had been a challenge-she'd had help from Abrienda with directions and bus fare but had still barely made it. Now, after almost six hours of playing go-between for lawyers and a reluctant Russian-speaking guy pegged as a material witness in a corporate personal injury case, Brynna felt pretty used up. The language part was easy; it was the bland, never-ending questions that circled around and came back that had worn her down. No wonder h.e.l.l was home to so many condemned lawyers.

”Thanks for picking me up,” she said as she slid onto the pa.s.senger seat and pulled the door closed.

”Beats the h.e.l.l out of the bus,” Redmond said. He pulled away from the curb and eased into the heavy afternoon traffic. Brynna said nothing as he navigated his way out of the downtown area; she didn't know where they were going, but right now she was simply too tired to care. Anywhere that was away from the world of business suits, power ties and cunning attorneys was fine with her, at least for the evening. ”Dinner?”

”I'm not very hungry,” she said truthfully. She'd made herself a good-sized sandwich of bread and a couple kinds of cheeses from a deli tray in the conference room during the lunch break. The deposition had been held at the offices of the defendants' lawyers, who were doing a not-very-subtle job of trying to intimidate the witness. That the guy was overwhelmed by the hugely expensive surroundings and ice-blooded lawyers was not Brynna's problem; she was just there to translate and get paid. The free lunch didn't hurt, either.

Redmond nodded, but she could sense his disappointment. ”Then I'll just run you home.” He glanced at her quickly. ”Unless you need something. To run errands or whatever.”

”No. I'm fine.” She gazed out the window, then added, ”I have to be back at nine tomorrow. They didn't finish asking the man questions.”

”That's good, right? I mean, it's work.” When she nodded, he pressed a little. ”So, what language did you translate? They didn't give me details and they seemed ...” He grinned a little. ”Well, let's just say they were as startled as I was when I told them you could translate anything.”

”Russian,” she answered.

”Really? d.a.m.n.”

Still the doubt-Brynna could hear it in his voice. And most likely not without reason; as a policeman, he'd probably been lied to countless times. ”Zdravstvuite, Detekiv Redmond. Nadeyus, shto da u vas bil dobri den. Bolshoe s.p.a.ciba, shto vi menya sevodnya zabral.” ”Zdravstvuite, Detekiv Redmond. Nadeyus, shto da u vas bil dobri den. Bolshoe s.p.a.ciba, shto vi menya sevodnya zabral.”

He squinted at her, and Brynna had to laugh. ”I said, 'h.e.l.lo, Detective Redmond. I hope you had a good day. Thank you for picking me up this afternoon.'”

Redmond hesitated, as if he wasn't sure she wasn't just messing with him, then he finally gave in and grinned. ”I know how to say good afternoon in Spanish,” he offered.

A corner of her mouth lifted. ”So do I.”

”Touche.”

Traffic thinned as they headed southwest out of the Loop, and Brynna realized he was going to take her all the way home. She thought about telling him not to, but then couldn't think of a good reason why she would. Instead she said, ”I appreciate the ride. I hate that bus thing.”

”You could get a car.”

”I don't-” She cut herself off before she could finish, remembering just in time that she'd shown him a supposedly valid driver's license. ”Like driving in the city,” she finished.

”Ah.”

”It makes me nervous,” she added, but even to her own ears, it sounded like an excuse.

”Nothing like doing it to get you comfortable,” Redmond said.

She nodded but didn't say anything. He was right, of course. The easiest thing to do would be to learn to drive-it was that or public transportation. And since she was already supposed to know how, she was going to have to bluff her way through the basics. Still, she had time. Redmond had told her what to charge per hour, and although it was a lot of money, it would still be quite awhile before she could afford to pay cash for a car. She certainly couldn't get mixed up in the world of human financing and loans. In the interim, she would build her knowledge by watching Redmond.

Studying his driving actions as he maneuvered through the city's afternoon rush-hour traffic made the time pa.s.s quickly, although in reality it took nearly an hour to get to her building. Redmond slid into a parking s.p.a.ce and got out without being asked, intent on walking her inside. Brynna thought about arguing, then her attention was caught by something else-a movement in the shadows beyond the front door. She frowned and strode forward, and when she pushed the door open, she came face-to-face with Mireva, Cocinero's niece. The girl jerked in surprise, but Brynna was far more interested in the boy talking to the teenager.

The guy looked older than Mireva but only by a couple of years. He was tall and lanky like Brynna but with jet-black hair chopped and gel-styled into irregular spikes. A diamond crucifix sparkled in his left ear, blatant contrast to the kohl and black mascara enhancing his eyes; the black coloring that was painted across his lips made his skin look like china. Despite the heat, a leather biker's jacket was draped over his bony shoulders. Beneath that was a tank top of torn black netting tucked into skintight black denims. Heavy black boots and fingerless gloves completed the picture. His handsome face was ageless and intense, the alabaster-smooth brow broken by nothing, not even a single drop of sweat. His eyes met Brynna's without flinching. Of course, he wouldn't. He- Redmond-d.a.m.n, she'd forgotten about him-shouldered his way past her. ”What are you two doing in this hallway?” he demanded. ”Do you live here?”

”Mireva does,” Brynna put in. ”I know her uncle.”

Redmond turned his glare to the young man. ”And what about you?”

”T-This is Gavino,” Mireva stammered. ”He walked me home from the bus-”

”Mireva!” A sharp voice cut her off and an instant later Abrienda hurried into view from the stairs. The older woman's gaze flicked from her daughter to the young man in the hallway, then darkened. ”Get upstairs. Now.”

”But Gavino says he can help me work on my science project,” Mireva protested.

”Yeah,” Gavino offered. His eyes met Brynna's and he smirked. ”I hear she's working on the tree of life. I got that whole life thing down, down, dude.” dude.”

Before Mireva could say anything else, Abrienda turned her daughter away from the others and steered her toward the stairs. Gavino looked disappointed and reached out like he was going to take the girl's hand, but Brynna slipped between them. ”You don't need his kind of help,” she said.

”My kind, kind,” Gavino sneered at her as the two women disappeared from view. ”You should know.”

”What?” Redmond looked from Brynna to Gavino. ”You two have met before?”

”Oh, we're old friends.” Gavino grinned again. His incisors looked vaguely sharp, like infantile vampire teeth. Nice trick, Brynna thought.

”You are?” Redmond looked at Brynna. ”I thought-”

”So it's Gavino,” Brynna cut in. ”That's what you're going by these days.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Gavino, then back at Redmond. ”Gavino exaggerates. We've met before, but we've never never been friends. And we never will be.” been friends. And we never will be.”

”So, like, you want to have lunch?” Gavino asked gleefully. ”I know this restaurant-”

”Keep getting smart with me,” Brynna warned. ”Give me an excuse to pull your lungs out through your mouth.”

”Hey,” Redmond said, alarmed. ”Hold on, Brynna.”

”Touchy, touchy,” Gavino said, but he was already edging past her, trying to get to the door. ”But hey, I think I'll just mosey along.”

”You do that,” Brynna told him. ”It's safer that way.” Her gaze bored into Gavino's and she stepped closer to him, crowding him against the wall. ”You know what I mean.”

”You don't want to start no public display,” Gavino reminded her. He glanced toward the stairs, but there was no fast way out in that direction. ”People might find out certain things.”

”What things?” Redmond demanded.

Brynna stepped forward again, this time nearly pinning Gavino against the wall. She could feel Redmond's confused stare but she had to rein in Mr. Motor-Mouth right now. Besides, being threatened really p.i.s.sed her off. ”I warned you already,” she hissed into Gavino's face. ”Push me again and see how much I care. care.”

Gavino mock-grimaced and raised his hands. ”Hey, lady-no worries. I'm so outta here.”

”h.e.l.l wouldn't be far enough,” she snapped.