It was as if the universe had it out for us. Or God. But no way was I gonna blame God, no matter how much I wanted to. This fell under the category of “life happens and it ain’t always fair.” Something a housemother at the children’s home where I was raised might have said.
I huffed out another breath and forced my shoulders to relax. I had a job to do. A job that would let me use the pent-up energy, the anger that still crawled under my skin. A job that would let me focus on something other than my own unhappiness and the once-again-ex-boyfriend, becharmed by a lovely catwoman who was sex on a stick. My ear wire was hanging on my neck, and I slipped it back around my ear, positioned the mouthpiece in place, and tapped it. I got Angel Tit.
“Sorry I went all girly on you, Angel. Update.” And I was pleased that I sounded like myself and not as if I had been screaming at the moon.
His voice crisp, Angel said, “Leo and the werelions are chatting. Wrassler is still coordinating a room-by-room search for whatever knocked out our man. Shoffru and his nutso date are dancing. He has a lizard on his shoulder. A minute ago, the lizard reached up and bit his earlobe near the earring and held on, swaying like it was dancing with them. Tell me that isn’t weird. The lady cop is dancing with a vamp, and keeping an eye on Shoffru. I think she likes lizards.
“The blood bar has a line and Gee DiMercy sent some more humans in to speed things up. And Leo sent word by Wrassler, and I quote, ‘With the exception of the pirate, my petitioners will not swear to me tonight.’ That mean anything to you, Legs?”
The name Legs came through like an endearment, and though I knew Angel meant nothing of the sort by it, it made me blink against tears. “Yeah. Got it. It means the young vamps won’t swear to him tonight. The show is canceled. More?” And by more I meant Rick, but I couldn’t bring myself to say his name.
Angel didn’t hesitate or sound pitying, and for that I was grateful. “The PsyLED cop and the leopard and the little green kitten left in a black cab, out the front door. Wrassler saw to it.” Relief made my knees weak, but he wasn’t done. “He also sent out word that you were checking a problem out back with the bomb-sniffing dog.”
I felt my shoulders relax, steadied myself, and said, “Thank you.” It might be stupid to care what anyone thought about my abrupt vanishing act, but I did.
“Copy, Legs,” Angel Tit said gently. “You say. Copy.”
“Copy. And thank you.”
“Ooh-rah.”
I went back through the porte cochere as if I owned the place, pulling on Beast to lend me her cat’s grace and hunting calm. I had made a dramatic exit, I was certain, but if I entered seeming calm and centered, most of those who saw me leave would assume it was a security situation that called me away so fast, not a broken heart. It was stupid to appear weak in front of vamps. Weakness was a possibly deadly emotion, and I had a reputation to defend—the rep of a nonvamp who could beat Leo on the sparing room floor. Head up, I flowed down the hallway, looking neither right nor left, and stepped into the elevator. Appearing cool and collected would dispel or deflect many potential problems.
Just as the doors closed, a black form stepped in, the doors barely grazing him on either side. I caught his scent even as I drew a weapon and I looked up into warm brown eyes. I shoved the blade back into the special pocket sheath. The door sealed and the elevator moved. “Wondered where you were,” I said. “New tux?”
Bruiser smoothed a hand down the satiny black of his lapel. “Yes. I think we should dance.”
I don’t know why that simple statement brought my pain to the surface again. I looked down at the small floor space, as much to keep him from seeing the fresh misery in my eyes as to inspect the floor. “Not much room. Besides, I’m working.”
“So am I. And the location of our dance will be near the pirate and the traitor.” When I didn’t refuse or disagree, he went on. “When Shoffru goes to pledge to Leo, we will keep the defector company.”
I thought about that while I spoke of more important things. “Was Adrianna around New Orleans when Shoffru ran with Lafitte?”
An approving glint lit Bruiser’s eyes. “Oh yes. Adrianna ran with a fast crowd even then.”
“The Damours.”
“Yes.”
“And Jackie Boy is a witch?”
“So it appears, though it isn’t in his dossier, and Leo—who had to have met him at some point—didn’t know.”
I grunted at that. Hard thing to hide, but Shoffru had done so. Which made him smarter and more powerful than expected. He had to make really good charms to hide witch-scent from a vamp. “Are you still Leo’s Enforcer tonight?”
“I am, though I am choosing my replacement. What do you think about Derek?”