Circus of the Damned - Laurell K. Hamilton [2]
I wanted to say, “You started it,” but that would sound childish. “I offered you coffee. You turned it down.”
Ruebens’s scowl deepened, little anger lines showing around his eyes. “Do you treat all your . . . customers this way?”
“The last time we met, you called me a zombie-loving bitch. I don’t owe you anything.”
“You took our money.”
“My boss did that.”
“We met you here at dawn, Ms. Blake. Surely you can meet us halfway.”
I hadn’t wanted to meet with Ruebens at all, but after Bert took their money, I was sort of stuck with it. I’d set the meeting at dawn, after my night’s work, but before I went to bed. This way I could drive home and get eight hours’ uninterrupted sleep. Let Ruebens’s sleep be interrupted.
“Could you find out the location of the Master’s retreat?” Inger asked.
“Probably, but if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because she is in league with him,” Ruebens said.
“Hush, Jeremy.”
Ruebens opened his mouth to protest, but Inger said, “Please, Jeremy, for the cause.”
Ruebens struggled visibly to swallow his anger, but he choked it down. Control.
“Why not, Ms. Blake?” Inger’s eyes were very serious, the pleasant sparkle seeping away like melting ice.
“I’ve killed master vampires before, none of them with a stake.”
“How then?”
I smiled. “No, Mr. Inger, if you want lessons in vampire slaying, you’re going to have to go elsewhere. Just by answering your questions, I could be charged as an accessory to murder.”
“Would you tell us if we had a better plan?” Inger said.
I thought about that for a minute. Jean-Claude dead, really dead. It would certainly make my life easier, but . . . but.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Why not?”
“Because I think he’ll kill you. I don’t give humans over to the monsters, Mr. Inger, not even people who hate me.”
“We don’t hate you, Ms. Blake.”
I motioned with the coffee mug towards Ruebens. “Maybe you don’t, but he does.”
Ruebens just glared at me. At least he didn’t try to deny it.
“If we come up with a better plan, can we talk to you again?” Inger asked.
I stared at Ruebens’s angry little eyes. “Sure, why not?”
Inger stood and offered me his hand. “Thank you, Ms. Blake. You have been most helpful.”
His hand enveloped mine. He was a large man, but he didn’t try using his size to make me feel small. I appreciated that.
“The next time we meet, Anita Blake, you will be more cooperative,” Ruebens said.
“That sounded like a threat, Jeremy.”
Ruebens smiled, a most unpleasant smile. “Humans First believes the means justify the end, Anita.”
I opened my royal purple suit jacket. Inside was a shoulder holster complete with a Browning Hi-Power 9mm. The purple skirt’s thin black belt was just sturdy enough to be looped through the shoulder holster. Executive terrorist chic.
“When it comes to survival, Jeremy, I believe that, too.”
“We have not offered you violence,” Inger said.
“No, but ol’ Jeremy here is thinking about it. I just want him and the rest of your little group to believe I’m serious. Mess with me, and people are going to die.”
“There are dozens of us,” Ruebens said, “and only one of you.”
“Yeah, but who’s going to be first in line?” I said.
“Enough of this, Jeremy, Ms. Blake. We didn’t come here to threaten you. We came for your help. We will come up with a better plan and talk to you again.”
“Don’t bring him,” I said.
“Of course,” Inger said. “Come along, Jeremy.” He opened the door. The soft clack of computer keys came from the outer office. “Good-bye Ms. Blake.”
“Good-bye, Mr. Inger, it’s been really unpleasant.”
Ruebens stopped in the doorway and hissed at me, “You are an abomination before God.”
“Jesus loves you, too,” I said, smiling. He slammed the door behind them. Childish.
I sat on the edge of my desk and waited to make sure they had left before going outside. I didn’t think they’d try anything in the parking lot, but I really didn’t want to start shooting people. Oh,