Tooth and Nail Page 14

  Lilian pulled the basket of fries to herself and picked one out. “So…I guess these are all mine, then?"

  20

  The kidnapped vampire’s name was Leon Adler. He owned a house on the southern outskirts of Lost Falls that was small by the standards of most of his kind—a simple five-bedroom, three-bathroom home with accompanying swimming pool and separate workshop. Apparently, he considered himself something of a carpenter.

  His house sat atop a low rise, surrounded by a stone wall. The property backed onto the vast stretch of woodland that surrounded Lost Falls, giving Leon the opportunity to roam the wilds by moonlight whenever the mood took him.

  It was through those woods the ogres had come.

  The CCTV cameras that covered every inch of the house’s exterior had caught sight of at least three ogres scaling the walls before the security systems were disabled. At least one of the ogres involved clearly knew his way around a pair of wire cutters.

  Fighting had broken out when the ogres breached the back door and made their way inside. Since the attack had taken place during the day, Leon was already safely sealed in his coffin. His swains had grabbed their guns and tried to ward off the attackers.

  They had failed miserably. Three of the swains were badly injured, and one was still slipping in and out of consciousness after being thrown through a wall. There was no sign that they’d given the ogres so much as a scratch.

  By the time the rest of the vampire brood became aware of the attack, Leon Adler had been taken. The ogres hadn’t bothered opening up his coffin. They’d just picked up the whole thing and retreated with Adler still inside.

  All the ogres, that is, except for one.

  The last ogre had waited patiently for us to arrive. He was small for his kind—about my height and only a little broader. He stood motionless in the center of the large, tiled basement room where Leon Adler had been peacefully sleeping away the day.

  The ogre wore a red-and-black flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing thick cords of muscle. A cheap glamour concealed his true nature, making his dark skin appear almost human-like. His jaw, too, was much less prominent than it would’ve been if he’d been unglamoured.

  But his eyes revealed his true nature to anyone who knew what they were looking for.

  He was unarmed, which didn’t make him appear any less of a threat. That opinion appeared to be shared by the half dozen swains crammed into the doorway in front of me, all pointing their guns at the ogre. Nolan was among them, as was Isaac, Lockhart’s pretty boy swain. No vampires were in attendance, of course. It was still nap time for them until the sun went down in another couple of hours.

  Early and I shoved our way through the crowd of twitchy swains and stepped into the large, windowless basement room.

  Sitting at the ogre’s feet was a drone—one of those high-end commercial quadcopters with a built-in video camera. It was pretty beaten up. One of the rotors was snapped and the frame was cracked and bent. There were a couple of large holes in the center of the thing that looked suspiciously like bullet holes.

  The ogre’s gaze shifted from me to Early as we came to a halt several feet away from him. I stepped aside a little so that the swains behind me would have a clear shot. If the ogre came at me, I’d rather he did it with a few holes in him.

  He was a mean-looking bastard. Not one of the ones I’d encountered at Doyle’s Reach. He had a scraggly gray chinstrap beard clinging to his jawline, along with a bad case of resting bitch face. His irises were red-rimmed, giving the impression of a red-hot ember burning behind each of his eyes. I suppressed a shiver as he studied me.

  Finally, his gaze returned to Early and he gave a slight nod. “Cunnin’ man.”

  “Hello, Bluebird,” Early said carefully, making sure to show the ogre that his hands were empty. Mine were too, though my truncheon hung at my side and I could feel the weight of my revolver tucked into my coat pocket. I’d been carrying it ever since I got home from the potion seller’s trailer. If I got attacked by the goblin assassin again, he’d get a silver bullet for his trouble.

  “That’s close enough,” the ogre said.

  Early nodded. “We’ll stay right here.” He gestured to me. “This is my colleague, Osric.”

  Bluebird glanced at me again, one corner of his lip lifting into a sneer. “Friend of vampires.”

  “Friend is an awfully strong word,” I said.

  From behind me, Isaac’s voice rang out. “Tell us where Master Adler is, ogre. Our patience wears thin.”

  Bluebird turned to Early. “Does the slave speak for you?”

  “You know what the deal is, Bluebird,” Early said. “Osric and I are just trying to get to the truth.”

  The ogre raised a meaty finger and pointed at the swains behind us. “You think they care about truth?”

  “Do you care about it?” I asked him.

  He grunted, then lowered his finger to point at the busted drone lying on the floor. “You know what this is?”

  “A drone,” I said.

  “Watchmen saw it flying over the wreckin’ yard. We shot it out of the sky. Sent out scouts and found slaves like them nearby with the controls.”

  Hell. I turned slowly back to the swains. “You know about this?” I asked Nolan.

  He just swallowed and shook his head, a pistol trembling slightly in his grasp.

  Booker. It had to be him. The wrecking yard was the ogres’ stronghold in Lost Falls. If Booker was sending out his swains with a drone to scout the premises, there could only be one reason: he was gathering tactical information to prepare for an assault.

  Son of a bitch.

  “Bluebird,” Early said. “We can still resolve this peacefully. Where is the vampire? Where is Leon Adler?”

  “In his box,” the ogre said, “beneath the sun. If I die, the box gets opened. If the wreckin’ yard gets attacked, the box gets opened.” He turned his sneer on the swains. “Tell your masters that.”

  I groaned internally. “Well, I guess that’s one way to negotiate,” I muttered to myself.

  “You’ll pay for this,” Isaac snapped. “You and all your kind.”

  “Bluebird—” Early began again, his hands raised to try to placate the ogre.

  “Enough yappin’,” Bluebird grunted. “I ain’t here to talk to slaves. Or cunnin’ men either.” He glared at Isaac. “Get me your queen.”

  “It’s daylight, you idiot,” Isaac said. “She isn’t going anywhere.”

  Bluebird snorted. “Got a phone, don’t you?”

  For a few moments, I thought Isaac might refuse out of spite. But finally, with a look like he’d just taken a bite out of an apple and found a worm inside, he took his phone out, dialed, and brought it to his ear. As he murmured into the phone, the other swains kept their guns focused on Bluebird. The ogre just stood in place, unperturbed.

  After a minute, Isaac stepped forward, tapped the screen, and held out his phone.

  “This is Sonja Lockhart,” the vampire queen’s voice crackled from the phone. “To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

  “I’m Bluebird,” the ogre said, “of the House of the Horned Rat.”

  “A pleasure,” Lockhart said. “And what, exactly, can I do for you, Bluebird of the House of the Horned Rat?”

  The ogre reached into his pocket. A couple of the swains raised shouts of alarm, weapons held tight in their hands.

  Early raised a hand to them, begging them for calm. “Wait. Just wait.”

  Bluebird cast an amused eye over the nervous swains, then withdrew his hand from his pocket. He was holding a crumpled piece of paper. As he unfolded it, I saw that something had been scrawled on one side. He held it up and began to read aloud.

  “As a representative of Bounding Rabbit, Matriarch of the Mother’s House and leader of the united ogre clans, I am lodging a formal grievance against Sonja Lockhart and the vampires of Lost Falls, as outlined in article forty-four of the Treaty of Blackwall.”


  There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. It was soon followed by rapid, muffled whispering.

  Bluebird lowered the paper a few inches. “You got a copy of the treaty, right?”

  “Of course,” came Lockhart’s reply a second later. “It will take us a moment to retrieve it.”

  There was more muffled whispering. I shared a look with Early. He just gave me a shrug.

  After another couple of minutes, Bluebird spoke up again. “You do know where to find the landmark treaty between our peoples, don’t you? The treaty signed more than four centuries ago that ended a decade of bloodshed—”

  “We have a lot of treaties, Bluebird of the House of the Horned Rat,” Lockhart said coldly.

  “Lemme remind you, then,” Bluebird said, raising his paper once more. “In accordance with the Treaty, we demand ritual combat to resolve this grievance.”

  Lockhart laughed softly. There was no humor in it. “Come, now. Isn’t that a little barbaric for this day and age? We can still—”

  “If you will not uphold the treaty—a treaty signed by both our peoples—then we will consider ourselves in a state of war. The vampire known as Leon Adler will be executed by sunlight exposure. He will not be the last.” Bluebird lowered the paper and tucked it back into his pocket.

  “Listen, ogre.” Lockhart’s voice simmered with cold rage. “I have tried to be reasonable, but I will not stand for such threats.”

  “The Blackwall Treaty was an oath between our peoples. We can’t stand oathbreakers.”

  On the other end of the line, I heard a soft murmuring and the crackle of ancient paper. There was silence for a few seconds, then Lockhart spoke again.

  “I have the treaty in my hands,” she said. “It says a grievance can be settled with single combat. This is what you refer to?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  There was more rustling of paper. “Choice of location goes to the challenger,” Lockhart muttered. “Choice of weapon to the challenged. Minor grievances can be settled by a duel to first blood, major grievances by a duel to the death.” She paused. “I suppose you consider this a major grievance?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Each ruler chooses a combatant to represent their people. Tell me, who has Bounding Rabbit chosen to fight for the honor of ogrekind?”

  “Bounding Rabbit says the honor falls to Holdfast, as One-tusk’s next of kin.”

  “Holdfast is willing to die for this?”

  “Of course.”

  “How noble,” Lockhart said. “Let me make sure we’re on the same page. If I agree to this little duel, all hostilities will cease. I suppose you intend to keep Leon Adler as collateral until the duel has reached its conclusion?”

  “’Course.”

  “And where is my insurance?”

  “You’re talkin’ to him,” Bluebird said.

  “You’ll allow yourself to become our hostage until this is concluded?”

  “Haven’t killed your boys yet, have I?”

  Lockhart paused for a few moments. “Very well. According to this treaty, whoever loses the fight will be held fully accountable for the grievance, and will pay reparations to the winner.”

  “Hope you’re not scared of bending your neck to us ogres,” Bluebird said. A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, revealing jagged, yellow teeth.

  “I doubt that will be necessary,” Lockhart said. “Time and place for the duel?”

  “Tomorrow. Ten p.m. The wreckin’ yard.”

  “Your own territory? This wouldn’t be a trap, would it?”

  Bluebird turned his palms upward in a look of feigned innocence. The gesture was apparently for our benefit, since Lockhart couldn’t see it. “I’m sure us ogres are too dumb to fool an edumacated vampire like you.”

  “I’m sure any such attempt would end badly for you.”

  The ogre grinned at that, lowering his hands once more. “So what’s it going to be, vampire?”

  For several seconds, Lockhart said nothing. I couldn’t even hear the rustle of paper coming through the speaker phone anymore. Early and I exchanged another glance. If Lockhart refused, what then? Would Bluebird still be willing to be made a hostage? Or would he go down swinging?

  I suddenly found myself wishing Early and I weren’t standing so close to the ogre.

  Finally, Lockhart’s voice crackled through the phone once more. “Very well. By the terms of the treaty, I acknowledge your grievance and accept your demand for ritual combat under the conditions you have specified.”

  “Smart choice,” Bluebird said. “You got someone to fight for you?”

  “I do,” she said. “I name Osric Turner as my champion.”

  21

  The basement room fell into deathly silence. The lack of sound seemed to echo deafeningly from the bare walls and tiled floor. I felt several sets of eyes on me. Even Bluebird the ogre was giving me a curious look.

  I glanced back at the half-dozen swains—at Nolan with his gun still pointed at Bluebird, at Isaac with his phone in his outstretched hand.

  “Did…did I just have a stroke?” I asked. “Did I hear that right?”

  Early was the first to move. He strode across the room and snatched the phone out of Isaac’s hand. The swain offered a weak, “Hey!” but Early ignored him. The old man tapped the screen, brought the phone to his ear, and began to whisper angrily down the line. I couldn’t make out the reply from Lockhart, but it did nothing to soothe Early.

  “I don’t care about your reasons, Sonja,” he snapped, his beard quivering with anger. “He doesn’t work for you. You can’t make him die for you.”

  I turned slowly to Bluebird. “Can I refuse? I can refuse, right?”

  “Uh-huh,” the ogre nodded. “But the grievance will stand.”

  “Can’t Lockhart just name some other schmuck to fight for her?”

  “She already named you.” He shrugged. “She only gets one pick.”

  I groaned. “Who the hell wrote this fucking treaty, anyway?”

  I turned back to Early. He was really letting Lockhart have it. I almost felt sorry for her. I walked over to him. My legs felt strange, like someone had put them on backwards.

  “Early,” I said. “Let me talk to her.”

  He ceased his tirade and lowered the phone a couple of inches. “You don’t have to do this, Ozzy.”

  “I know. Let me talk to her.”

  His frown deepened, bushy eyebrows drooping low. Silently, he held the phone out to me. I took it and turned away.

  “It’s like the piano thing at the restaurant all over again,” I said into the phone. “You gotta stop with these dirty tricks.”

  “I am sorry, Osric—”

  “Spare me.”

  “It’s the truth,” Lockhart said. “You will be well compensated, I assure you. This is regretful, I know. I just couldn’t see another option.”

  “You couldn’t see—” I took a breath to keep myself from shouting. “How many vampires do you rule over? How many of them would love to tear an ogre apart? Why didn’t you name Booker? He’d be hot for it.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “No it’s not,” I said. “It’s just ass-covering, isn’t it? If you send in Booker and he dies, that’s another vampire dead at ogre hands. Another dead bloodsucker on your watch. Another knife your rivals can use to plant in your back. And if you send in Booker and he wins, then he’s the hero of the day. He wouldn’t hesitate to challenge you then. Me, I’m expendable. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  “There’s more to it than that,” she said.

  “Are you trying to torpedo my investigation?” I asked.

  “Don’t you see? We won’t need the investigation. The ogres have given us an out. A chance for peace.”

  “Yeah? And if you lose, you’ll lay down and accept all blame for the whole mess? You’ll meekly pay your reparations to the ogres? And then it’ll be peace everlasting, right? Say, you ever hear of the Treaty of Versai
lles?”

  “Do not lecture me on history, Osric,” Lockhart said. “I have lived more of it than you.”

  “Haven’t learned much, though, have you?”

  “Listen to me.” Her voice suddenly hardened. “I did not write this treaty. I did not sign it. I am bound by an agreement made long before I was born. I am trying to give us a way out. You know what the stakes are. That ogre made them clear. War is imminent. You are the only one who can stop it.”

  “Only because you threw me under the bus!”

  “Nevertheless.”

  I realized I was grinding my teeth. I couldn’t stop myself. “You’re asking me to die.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m asking you to kill. I know you’re no stranger to that.”

  “I don’t kill for sport. And I saw Holdfast at Doyle’s Reach. I don’t fancy my chances against him.”

  “Let me make things clear for you,” Lockhart said. “If you refuse, we will have no choice but to go to war. Bounding Rabbit has made her intentions clear. I will order my swains to execute Bluebird. Right here, right now.”

  “You wouldn’t. They’ll kill Leon Adler.”

  “Leon should never have let himself be captured. His death is on him.”

  I hesitated. “You’re bluffing. If he gets killed, you’re finished.”

  “It matters little now. The die has been cast. I have named you, Osric. That cannot be undone. Will you fight, and help me preserve some shred of peace? Or will you refuse, and plunge us into war?”

  There were plenty of things I wanted to plunge, such as a stake into her treacherous heart. But I bit back the remarks I wanted to make and instead fell into silence.

  I turned slowly and found Early looking at me. Bluebird and the swains were all staring silently as well, but I ignored them.

  The old man held my gaze. He shook his head slowly.

  “No,” he said. “Don’t.”

  I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath.