Bloodshot - Cherie Priest [151]
I sighed. “Rationally, I know we haven’t seen the end of this yet, and we won’t until I can track down Sykes and put a nail in his coffin for good. But he’s going to be hard to find. I know this, because the Castors haven’t found him yet—and they have damn fine resources at their disposal.”
“You think maybe he’ll lie low for a while? Since you kind of fucked up his plans?”
“We kind of fucked up his plans.” I smiled evilly. “And to answer your question, for now he’ll go quiet if he knows what’s good for him. The tables have turned, my friend. It’s his turn to hide from us.”
“I hope you’re right. I don’t know about you, but I could use a break.”
“Agreed. I don’t need that kind of excitement anymore. I’m getting too old for all this action and adventure shit.”
“Preach it,” she said.
I lifted the cup of cooling java in a toast. “To boring lives of total anonymity.”
“To boring lives,” she echoed wryly. “Filled with bitch-techno, too-high heels, and hefty tips in a lady’s thong.”
I laughed and set the cup down. “Or to new friends, and pet people, and shiny new storehouses for hot goods.”
She lifted an eyebrow so sharp it could’ve poked a hole in a tire. “Pet people? Oh yes. The kids.”
“One big happy family.” I sighed.
“And that’s why you’re out here alone, on a Saturday night? Reading the paper and surfing the ’Net for … what, porn?”
Of course. Always the porn. It has a way of finding me. “Yes, you’ve pretty much got it. Last I saw them, Domino had stomped off in a huff over some perceived insult on my part—”
“Merely perceived, I’m sure.”
“—and Ian was arguing with Pepper over whether or not she needed to submit to his tutoring process, since she refuses to go to school, and I just didn’t feel like listening to it.”
The other eyebrow came up. “Ian and the kids both? Under one roof? You’re serious?”
“Seriously insane, I think. I’m trying to sort out a new condo … or maybe one of those cool old houses back around Nineteenth Street up on Capitol Hill. I don’t know. But for now, it just made sense to keep everyone together. Just until …” I wasn’t sure that there was an end point in mind, come to think of it.
Rose took a dainty sip and agreed, saying only, “Just until.”
In my bag, my phone began to buzz.
“Hang on a second,” I said, and fished it out. I saw the display and said, “Oh dear.”
“Trouble back at the homestead?”
“Nope. Trouble in New York. It’s Horace’s area code, and he’s no doubt in full-on diva mode. I can tell by the ring.” The phone quit vibrating, then immediately began anew as Horace proved to be his permanently impatient self. I said, “If I don’t answer this, he’ll just keep calling all night.”
“By all means,” Rose said with a smile. “Momma’s gotta pay the bills, after all.”
“Shut up, you.”
“Not likely.”
“Hey, when I’m done with this asshole, you want to come back to the homestead—as you put it—and have a drink?”
She said, “If you hadn’t offered, I would’ve had to stalk you.”
“Stalking is such an ugly word,” I said as I fidgeted with the phone. “Goddamn, he’s going to tear me a new one. I totally missed that last case he wanted to give me, and he’ll accuse me of blowing him off.”
“Did you?”
“I was otherwise occupied at the time. As you may recall.”
Out of desperation, I almost pressed the button to silence the ringer and leave us all in peace for the night, but upon the third cycle of ringing I changed my mind and pressed the green button instead.
“I’m here, Horace, and I humbly accept your recriminations.” I felt like I was stepping into a confessional. “Forgive me, you filthy crook. It’s been over three months since last we spoke, and I know that I missed that big job you wanted to foist upon me.”
It shouldn’t have surprised me when he said, “Oh, fuck that bitch. I pawned her off on someone else, and the whole thing turned out to be an orgy of disaster. Consider yourself lucky. You dodged a bullet on that one, and let’s call the whole thing water under the bridge.”
“Uh-oh.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.
“You’ve got something worse