Burnt Offerings - Laurell K. Hamilton [72]
“Padma and Fernando will be disappointed, but the others might agree. I will do the best I can within the limits you have given me.”
“No rape, no maiming, no actual intercourse, no hostages, does that really tie your hands that much?”
“When we have survived all this, ma petite, and the council has gone home, I will tell you stories of my time at court. I have seen spectacles that even in the telling would give you nightmares.”
“Nice to know you think we’re going to survive.”
“I am hopeful, yes.”
“But not certain,” I said.
“Nothing is certain, ma petite, not even death.”
He had me there. My beeper went off. It pulled a gasp from my throat. Nervous, who me?
“Are you all right, ma petite?”
“My beeper went off,” I said. I checked the number. It was Dolph. “It’s the police. I need to return the call.”
“I will begin negotiations with the council, ma petite. If they ask too much, I will let your leopards remain where they are.”
“Padma will kill Vivian now that he thinks she belongs to me. He might have killed her before, but it would have been by accident. If we don’t get her out of there, he’ll do it on purpose.”
“One meeting with him and you are so sure of this?”
“You think I’m wrong?” I asked.
“No, ma petite, I think you are exactly right.”
“Get them out of there, Jean-Claude. Make the best deal you can.”
“I have your permission to use your name in this?”
“Yeah.” My beeper went off a second time. Dolph, impatient as usual. “I’ve got to go, Jean-Claude.”
“Very well, ma petite. I will bargain for us all, then.”
“You do that,” I said. “Wait…”
“Yes, ma petite.”
“You aren’t going to go back to the Circus in person tonight, are you? I don’t want you in there alone,” I said.
“I will use the phone, if you prefer,” he said.
“I do.”
“You don’t trust them,” he said.
“Not hardly.”
“Wise beyond your years,” he said.
“Suspicious beyond my years, you mean.”
“That as well, ma petite. If they will not negotiate over the phone?” he asked.
“Then let it go.”
“You said you were willing to risk your life, ma petite.”
“I didn’t say I was willing to risk yours.”
“Ah,” he said. “Je t’aime, ma petite.”
“I love you, too,” I said.
He hung up first, and I dialed the police. Here was hoping whatever Dolph had in mind was some nice straightforward police work. Yeah, right.
23
THE VICTIM HAD been rushed to a hospital by the time I arrived at Burnt Offerings. It’s one of my favorites of the newer vampire businesses. It was far from the vampire district. The only other vamp businesses were blocks, miles away. As you walked through the doors there was a poster from the 1970’s movie Burnt Offerings, Oliver Reed and Bette Davis staring down at you. There was a life-size waxwork of Christopher Lee as Dracula in the bar. There was one wall with framed caricatures of horror stars of the sixties and seventies, floor to ceiling, no tables allowed to obstruct the view. It wasn’t uncommon to see clusters of visitors trying to identify who was who. At midnight whoever had the most correct guesses got a free dinner for two.
The place was pure schlock. Some of the waiters were real vamps, but others were just wannabes. For some it was just a job, and they specialized in plastic Halloween teeth and jokes. For others it was their chance to pretend. They had dental caps over their canines and worked very hard at being the real thing. Other waiters or waitresses were dressed up as mummies, the wolf man, Frankenstein’s monster. To my knowledge the only real monsters were the vamps. If a shapeshifter wanted to come out of the closet, there was better money to be made in more exotic locales.
The place was always packed. I wasn’t sure whether Jean-Claude was sorry he hadn’t thought of it first or if he was simply embarrassed by it. It was a little déclassé for him. Me, I loved it. From the haunted house soundtrack to the Bela Lugosi burgers, extra rare unless otherwise requested. Bela was one of the few exceptions to the sixties and seventies movie decor. Hard to have a horror theme restaurant without