Tooth and Nail Page 13

  “We? You mean the vampires?” I closed my wallet. “Awfully generous.”

  “It’s not a bribe,” he assured me.

  “Good. When I get a bribe, I prefer it to come in the form of a briefcase full of cash.” I gestured to the door. “Shall we?”

  I got into my van and waved to Nolan as he drove away in one of those black sedans Lockhart’s brood loved so much. As soon as his car disappeared from sight, I got out of my van again and headed back toward the river that ran alongside Doyle’s Reach.

  I sent Early a couple of messages on the way, letting him know I was still alive. He’d been busy with the ogres all day. We needed to meet up and compare notes.

  I also asked him to get in touch with Lilian and ask her to come along too. When he asked me why I didn’t contact her myself, I didn’t respond.

  There was one last thing I had to do before I left Doyle’s Reach. With any luck, Kor had gotten to safety without being caught by the assassin. The trouble was that I still needed him. The vodyanoy was the only living witness we had to the events here last night. And there was more to the story than what he’d told me before the assassin attacked.

  Besides, I wouldn’t be the only one looking for him. And if the assassin found him first…

  I reached the oak tree at the water’s edge. I fished a couple of zip-lock bags, a cork, and another glow stick out of my bag, then stripped off once again and slid back down the bank and into the water.

  Luckily, my clothes hadn’t yet fully dried out before I got them soaking wet once again. Cracking the glow stick, I once again located the entrance to the vodyanoy’s lair and swam inside.

  The cavern at the end of the fissure seemed to have a different atmosphere when I arrived. It felt empty, devoid of life.

  Guilt gnawed at my stomach as I pulled myself out of the water onto the shelf of stone that formed the vodyanoy’s home. I’d told Kor that if he helped me, his home would be safe. That promise hadn’t even lasted an hour before he’d been driven out by the threat of death.

  I looked at the shelves that’d been knocked down by my fight with the dark-haired assassin. Fragments of broken saucers and teacups lay scattered across the stone floor. I picked my way among them, shifting the broken china aside with the tip of my truncheon.

  It took me a few minutes of searching, but then I found it. A small dart, no longer than my thumb. It bore a feathered tail and a long needle coated with oily black fluid. Careful not to touch the needle, I stuck the tip into the cork I’d brought with me then sealed the dart in a zip-lock bag.

  I kept searching. Finally, I found the other thing I’d been looking for. An ugly teacup with a silver rim and a floral pattern around the side. The handle had broken off during the fight, but the rest of it was mostly intact.

  I got my second zip-lock bag out of my pocket, shook the water off, and pulled it open. Using my truncheon, I nudged the cup into the bag along with its broken handle and sealed it tight. If it got wet going back through the river, it’d be useless to me.

  For the moment, though, this teacup was the best chance I had for finding Kor again. He had a strong emotional connection to it—and better than that, I got the feeling he handled it often. The tracking potion I could create with the cup wasn’t as strong as something I’d be able to make if I had a little of his flesh or urine, but it would have to do.

  Stay safe, you weird little bastard, I thought as I slipped back into the water. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

  19

  “Radsk,” I said. “Do you know what that means?”

  Early frowned and stroked his long white beard. It was a tic of his—he did it to make himself look wise when he had no idea of the answer.

  “Balls,” I said. “It means balls.”

  “Balls as in…”

  “Nuts. Family jewels. Cojones.”

  Early held up a hand. “I get the picture.”

  I leaned back in my chair and snagged the last fry from the basket we’d shared. “Specifically,” I said, pointing at him with the fry. “It means old balls. Real saggy—”

  “Thank you, Ozzy. I understand. So it’s a swear word.”

  “That’s right.”

  “In what language?”

  “Goblin,” I said. “One of their dialects, anyway.”

  Early’s mouth tightened. His blue eyes clouded as he considered the implications.

  I ate my fry as I let him mull it over. I was still hungry, so I considered ordering another basket. Maybe I’d be better off getting something more filling. A horse, maybe. I could go for a horse.

  We were sitting in Ollie’s Diner, the premier dining establishment for Lost Falls’ wide array of freaks. It looked like a pretty ordinary diner from where we were sitting, but that was because the really weird stuff was all downstairs. Here, in the public-facing part of the diner, the only customers were those who were human or who could afford a decent enough glamour to pass for one.

  Lilian hadn’t joined us yet, but Early had assured me she was on her way. In the meantime, I’d given Early a brief overview of the situation so far, up to when the dark-haired assassin had attempted to kill the vodyanoy. He’d listened in silence, taking it all in.

  While Early put his thinking cap on, I tried to get the attention of the bartender to see if I could get something else to eat. The bastard looked everywhere but at me. You’d think I was trying to get him to sign a petition or something.

  “You think the man who attacked you was a goblin,” Early finally said when he came out of his trance.

  “Seems like it to me. He swore when I broke his arm. They say you swear in your native tongue in a situation like that, right?”

  “I think so.”

  “He was wearing a decent glamour. And he knew what he was doing. His weapons were poisoned with—”

  “Lover’s Embrace,” Early finished the sentence for me.

  “How did you…?” I paused. “The ogre.”

  The old man nodded and absentmindedly rotated his water glass on the table. “I was able to obtain traces of the poison from the wound in One-tusk’s thigh. I ran some tests. It was Lover’s Embrace.”

  Now it was my turn to stroke my beard thoughtfully. I hadn’t connected the dots before, since we hadn’t found One-tusk curled up like one of Nolan’s ice mummies. But ogres reacted differently to magic—magical poisons included.

  “How’s he doing?” I asked. “One-tusk, I mean.”

  “Alive,” Early said. “For now. I prepared an antidote and gave it to him, but the poison had been working on him for hours by the time I neutralized it.”

  “Long enough to cause permanent damage? Lethal damage?”

  Early shook his head uncertainly. “I can’t say. I’ve done what I can. It’s up to him now.”

  “His chances can’t be that bad. I figure he has to be pretty tough if he’s still alive. What does he do when he’s not in a coma? Is he some kind of enforcer like Eventide?”

  “Tow truck driver,” Early said.

  “Really?”

  “Really. Parents died from the Wasting about ten years ago. Now he works for Bounding Rabbit’s scrap yard, picking up scrapped cars. Not a violent streak in him, so I’m told.”

  I grunted. “Then what the hell was he doing at Doyle’s Reach? And why would anyone try to kill him?”

  Early had no answers for me.

  I tried once more to catch the bartender’s eye for a new basket of fries—no luck—then grumbled to myself and leaned back in my chair. I chewed my lip.

  “You’re worried about the goblin,” Early said.

  I hadn’t yet told the old man just how close that goblin had come to killing me. I decided to keep it under my hat. Early was a hell of a worrier. Instead, I just nodded.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “I’m thinking I don’t know who the hell the goblin works for. And that scares me. Did he get hired by one of the vampires? That Booker guy, maybe? Or maybe Eventide he
rself was working with him.” I shrugged. “Maybe he was hired by some ogre with a grudge against One-tusk. Or…”

  “Or what?”

  “What if the goblin isn’t rogue? What if he works for the Mines? Maybe they’re trying to start something.”

  Early frowned. “I don’t think that’s likely.”

  “Neither do I. But we’re only guessing. We need to talk to someone who might have an actual answer for us. Have you been in contact with Rodetk lately?”

  “Not for a few months.” Early thought about it, then nodded. “I’ll reach out to him.”

  “What’s going on with the ogres?” I asked. “They keeping themselves in check?”

  “There is…discord within the ranks,” he said.

  “What kind of discord?”

  “Some of the clans are making noises about preemptive attacks. There is a widely held belief that the vampires will make a strike in retaliation for Eventide’s death.”

  “I wish I could say I knew they were wrong,” I said.

  Early nodded. “The ogres see vampires as cruel and arrogant and unwilling to back down. Holdfast in particular wants to give the vampires a bloody nose to make them think twice about attacking.”

  “Bad idea,” I said. “If anything, it’ll have the opposite effect.”

  “I agree. But he’s a hard man to reason with. Especially now, with One-tusk on his deathbed. Holdfast has a great deal of affection for his nephew. The grief is clouding his judgment.”

  “But you can keep him calm, right? For a little while at least?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Early said. He didn’t sound very confident.

  As I took a long pull on my drink, the door to the diner swung open. I froze, my fist tightening around my glass.

  Lilian let the door swing closed behind her. She stood there for a minute, scanning the diner, her eyes no doubt adjusting to the dim lighting. After a moment her eyes met mine and her eyebrows lifted in acknowledgment.

  I realized my hand was trembling. The dagger wound on my shoulder began to throb softly. Absentmindedly, I began to rub it.

  I didn’t know what it was exactly that made my stomach knot. Lilian didn’t usually give me that kind of feeling. But the sight of her brought my ordeal at the riverbank flooding back to me. The pain, the certainty of my own death. I’d thought it hadn’t affected me too badly.

  I was wrong.

  Lilian strolled to our table and stopped, frowning.

  “What’s gotten into you?” she asked me.

  Early was giving me an odd look as well. I realized I’d spilled a little of my drink on the table as I massaged the wound on my shoulder. I was clenching my jaw so hard my teeth were starting to ache.

  I pulled my hand away from my shoulder and lowered my drink carefully to the table. Taking a slow breath, I forced myself to relax and smile.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Rough night.”

  “Something else happened,” Early said, studying me closely. “Something you’re not telling me.”

  “It’s nothing,” I said.

  “He’s lying,” Lilian said to Early. “That’s his lying voice.”

  “I don’t have a lying voice,” I protested.

  Lilian cocked her head to the side. “There it is again.”

  “I’m not—” I stopped myself from shouting, but not before I’d earned a raised eyebrow from Lilian and a deep frown from Early.

  I took a breath.

  “There was a fight,” I said to Early, not looking at Lilian. “It took it out of me, that’s all. It was a close call. I’m…I’m just mad at myself. The assassin got away, and I don’t even have the vodyanoy to show for it.”

  “Assassin?” Lilian said. “What assassin? And what are you doing messing round with a vodyanoy? Alcaraz says—”

  “Alcaraz doesn’t know as much as she thinks she does,” I snapped.

  As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Lilian owed a lot to Alcaraz, the town’s resident expert on rare and exotic Strangers. Hell, the old bat’s mansion was practically a zoo. Lilian had been working as Alcaraz’s assistant ever since she’d turned up in town as a vengeful and recently reanimated corpse. Alcaraz was to Lilian what Early was to me. Which explained the scowl that was spreading across Lilian’s slender face.

  “I’m sorry,” I began. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Forget it.” She pulled up a seat next to Early and dropped into it. “Why don’t you just start at the beginning and explain to me what the hell is going on.”

  I let Early do most of the talking. I was busy trying to get myself under control.

  It occurred to me, as I watched Lilian absorb the tale that Early was telling her, that I was a hypocrite. I’d convinced Lockhart to hand this investigation over to me because her own judgment was clouded. But I could no longer be objective—if I ever was in the first place. The fight with the goblin assassin, how close I’d come to my own death, it had left me fucked up. It had left me angry—furious. And terrified. I wanted to kill the assassin—I wanted to choke the life from him with the worst witchcraft I could muster. And I wanted the same for whoever was pulling his strings.

  Because I was terrified that if I didn’t, I would soon get a second taste of Lover’s Embrace. One that I might not wake up from.

  Hell, I couldn’t even look at Lilian without feeling that sense of helplessness as my own death had approached. I was compromised, plain and simple.

  The responsible thing to do would be to tell Early the whole truth and let him take care of things from here on out. Maybe I could still help him out in some limited capacity. I could take on a protective role, ensuring that no one tried to get to Early like they’d gone after me and the vodyanoy. I could help him prepare any tracking potions or other spells he might need for the investigation.

  But I wouldn’t. Because I was a hypocrite. Because I was too angry, too invested. Because I still had to get this done if I wanted to get access to Lockhart’s archives. And because, as my hallucination of Lilian had told me while I lay dying against the riverbank, I needed this. I needed to find the truth hidden among the lies. I needed to hold someone accountable for what had happened at Doyle’s Reach.

  I was the hunter, after all.

  When Early had told Lilian all he could tell her, I filled in my own side of the story. She’d perked up by now, her frown replaced by piercing interest. It looked good on her.

  The intensity of her gaze made me stumble over my words a few times, but at least I was able to speak more calmly now—even if I felt anything but calm beneath the surface. Once again, I left out the full extent of what had happened in the vodyanoy’s lair, how close the assassin had come to killing me.

  She saw right through me. I could see it in her eyes.

  Her face softened as I glazed over my fight with the assassin, concern pulling at the corners of her eyes. Her lips parted as if she was going to say something—a question maybe, or some remark that was both biting and comforting at the same time. But she just closed her mouth again and said nothing.

  And then, finally, I arrived at the reason I’d called Lilian in. She listened in silence as I told her what I needed from her. When I was done, Early was staring at me like I was mad, but Lilian just had a thoughtful expression on her face.

  “Think you can do it?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “I’ve never done a vampire before. Not that I remember, at least.”

  “Same principle as anything else, though, right?”

  “Maybe,” she said. “Maybe not. Vampires are unusual, even by the standards of other Strangers. They’re inherently magical creatures.”

  “So are hobgoblins,” I pointed out. “That wasn’t a problem for you.”

  “Different kind of magic. Different complications.” She paused. “Are you sure it will help?”

  I nodded. “It has to.”

  “Will the vampires go for it? I thought this sort of thing wasn’t their style.” />
  “Lockhart will allow it,” I assured her. “She doesn’t have a choice.”

  Early eyed me. “Lockhart isn’t the only one we have to worry about, though. The other vampires—”

  “Don’t need to know,” I finished for him. “Lockhart will keep it quiet. She has to.” I turned to Lilian. “So you’re in?”

  “I’m in.”

  There was the slightest hesitation before she spoke, so slight I wondered if I’d imagined it. I studied her face for any sign of reluctance, but she gave me nothing. I nodded.

  “All right. Well, I say it’s break time. I’m shattered, and we can’t do anything until dusk. For some reason vampires don’t like working in the daytime.”

  “Probably why they’re so pale.” Lilian picked up the empty fry basket and frowned. “Couldn’t save any for me, huh? Some gentlemen you two are.” She turned and waved the basket toward the bartender. “Hey! Can we get some more fries over here?”

  The man bobbed his head. “Right away.”

  “Unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath.

  As Lilian turned back to me, my phone started ringing. Nolan’s name flashed up on the screen. Just as I was bringing it to my ear, Early’s phone started chirping as well. He met my eyes as he pulled his own phone out of his pocket.

  “Hell,” I muttered. “Good news, I’m sure.” I brought the phone to my ear. “Nolan? What’s up?”

  There was a faint rumble in the background, like he was driving as he spoke. “Something’s happened,” Nolan said.

  “Something like what?”

  “The ogres have taken a vampire hostage,” he said.

  I sighed deeply and pressed the heel of my palm hard against my forehead. When I opened my eyes, the bartender appeared and laid a fresh new basket of fries in front of us.

  “Are you there?” Nolan asked. “Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah, I heard you. It’s just…the fries only just got here.”

  “What? I didn’t catch that. Mistress Lockhart has asked that you help manage the crisis until nightfall. Can you come?”

  I stared at the steaming bowl of fries, then sighed again and pushed back my chair. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m on my way.” I looked at Early, who was deep in a conversation of his own. He met my eyes and gave me a look that told me he was having a very similar conversation to mine.