Blood Canticle - Anne Rice [124]
He lifted a small black gadget and the inundation of purring dance music came to an end. The sound of the breeze was born again, sweeping through the great empty wall that fronted on the Caribbean.
“Oh, Rodrigo, I am ever so grateful to you for that,” sighed Oberon. “I was looking everywhere for the source of that infernally simpering music.”
“So that’s why we’re waving that gun around,” said Rodrigo agreeably. “And where’s my Mamma, didn’t you bring her up with you? I can’t raise anybody on this island. I’m humiliated. Please, my guests! Be seated! The bar is there—everything you could wish. Miravelle!” he shouted suddenly. “I have guests here! Where exactly did you come from? It’s once in a blue moon a boat ties up at my dock. But you’re most welcome. We are very private here, you understand, I can’t invite you to stay—”
“Don’t you worry at all about that,” I said, “we’ll soon be on our way. Just wanted to connect with Miravelle and Lorkyn.”
“Is that so?” he asked skeptically. “Miravelle!” he called out again in a short Latin bark.
This time with results.
She entered from the left, the genuine article without doubt, maybe six and a half feet tall, yellow hair, oval face, baby flesh like Oberon, simple black linen sleeveless dress, sandals, round blue eyes, and when she saw Oberon she screamed and ran into his arms. He had only time to shove the gun in his belt before he enfolded her.
He lost all reserve embracing her and running his lips all over her. He pushed her hair back and broke into sobs suddenly as he kissed her.
“That’s it, get back!” declared Rodrigo from the bed. He clapped his hands imperiously. “You hear me, both of you, I said get back! Oberon, did you hear what I said?”
But the two had fallen to kissing and speaking what seemed an alien language in high-pitched whistling words that none of us could understand, astonishing Quinn, though Mona seemed not one bit surprised by it. It was a spectacle.
Rodrigo was off the bed in an instant. He had the cell phone unfolded and was barking orders in Spanish. Then shaking the phone.
“They’re all dead,” I said. “I killed them all.”
“What are you talking about?” he said, the graciousness gone, his face the picture of rage. He drew his gun out of his belt and leveled it at me. “You’re being rude to me in my own room,” he said, “which I won’t tolerate.”
I sent the power to push the gun out of his hand and far to the right wall. It hit the sheetrock and fell to the floor. His eyes grew large, but he wasn’t humbled by this display of strength. He glared at me, trying to make sense of what he’d just seen, then scoping Mona and Quinn.
Meanwhile the two Taltos had settled down somewhat and were watching him. Mona came up beside them. Quinn was beside me.
I scanned the hotel. There was another being walking on the floor above, but I didn’t know whether it was Taltos or human.
“All right, what do you want from me?” Rodrigo said. “You want money, what? You killed all my men, you did that? For what reason? You want this island, it doesn’t belong to me, take it. I was leaving tonight anyway. I don’t care what you do. Miravelle, get away from him!”
He was suddenly distracted by a roar and a particular sound which I knew and couldn’t place until he named it:
“The copter! They’re taking off without me!” He ran to the open balcony. “Stop them, damn them.” He want into a Spanish aria of denunciations and execrations.
I sent the scan. Two human beings. Male. What good was it to us or the future of this place to have them escape? I held tight to the iron railing of the balcony and I sent the Fire.
I didn’t know if the power was viable over such a distance, but no one would know if I failed. My body was rigid with the attempt, the knot inside me burning with all the energy I could feed it, and suddenly the Fire hit the copter with a force that knocked it to one side. I gave every