Skinwalker

Tom. Troll. Right. I pushed Beast farther down. She let me, amused. Beast was playing, though I didn’t know if she toyed with Leo or with me. Or with both of us.

 

Leo led me to the sofa and I sat where he placed me, in the corner, one knee up, sandal in the seat. One arm along the back, so I could push up and over fast if needed. Leo sat on a tall stool near the bar. He was wearing a suit. Tie. Fancy shoes. We waited. Moments later, I heard footsteps clattering down the stairs: heels, one pair; soft-soled shoes, also one pair, that gait Troll’s. Indigo’s voice, giggly, happy. I began to relax and felt my shoulders droop. Felt Leo’s eyes on me when they did. Speculative.

 

Indigo came through the doorway, her big blue eyes blinking at the change in light. She saw Leo and she smiled. Saw me and stopped. I inspected her, not hiding my perusal. She looked fine, except for tiny dots from a recent feeding. They were closed, nearly healed. No torn throat, just nice clean punctures, the flesh properly treated so the wounds would constrict, the sign of a vamp in control of herself. Then why had Amitee attacked me? Troll stopped behind Indigo, standing framed in the doorway.

 

“The vamp who fed on you tonight,” I said. “Is she a regular?”

 

Indigo raised a hand and her fingers brushed across her throat. A smile played across her mouth, lighting her eyes. Sexual awareness, pleasure, and something more. Fondness. I could tell she liked Amitee even before she spoke, answering more than I had asked. “She’s nice. She don’t”—she glanced at Leo—“doesn’t—ask for weird sh—weird stuff. She pays well, tips better, and treats me like a lady.” Her eyes and face went sly and taunting, as if hoping to shock. “A girl likes a little romance sometimes, you know?”

 

I didn’t react, which seemed to disappoint her. “Thank you, Indigo,” I said, polite.

 

“I got a client, at the Iberville,” she said to Leo. “You want me to take a cab?”

 

That caught my attention. Why was Indigo asking Leo about business? Wouldn’t Troll take over for Katie? I glanced at the doorway. Troll was standing stiffly in the shadows, his face a mask. Something was hinky here.

 

“Until the rogue is brought down, my driver will deliver you all to your assignations,” Leo said. “Let George know when you will want the car. He’ll make arrangements.”

 

Troll looked down. He was not a happy troll. I grinned at my humor. When Leo raised a brow at my amusement, I waved it away. I had a job to do, and then I was outta here. I was so not getting into vamp politics. As long as I got paid. And as long as they didn’t get me killed.

 

Indigo said thank you and Leo dismissed her. Actually dismissed her. Like a king or something. He said, “You may be dismissed.” I didn’t bother to hide my snort or the wider grin at that one. Leo did his brow-lift thing. The man was so smooth he wouldn’t slide on an oil slick. He looked at Troll standing in the shadows. “Tell Ipsita to meet me at the door in an hour.” Troll didn’t look happy, but he nodded.

 

Ipsita was the South Asian girl, delicate as a rosebud, the girl who looked like she might be twelve. She roused my protective instincts. Knowing she was of legal age didn’t help me to see her differently, and the idea of her going on a “date” with an old vamp made me grind my molars. And anyway, why is Leo making off with one of Katie’s girls? I didn’t realize I had spoken that last part aloud until they all turned and looked at me. Crap. Even Indigo stuck her head back in, a look of surprise and puzzlement on her face.

 

In for a penny . . . “It seems to me that until Katie gets back, Tr—Tom should be in charge.” I looked at Troll. “Does Katie have legal papers written up about who takes over if she is”—stuck in a coffin in a pool of vamp blood?—“indisposed?”

 

Leo lifted his head. “I am Katie’s master. It is fitting that I assume command for her while she is unwell.”

 

“Maybe in the Dark Ages, but not in the United States and not now.” So much for me not getting into vamp politics. “Tom? Where does Katie keep her legal papers?”

 

Faith Hunter's books