Pure Blood_ A Nocturne City Novel - Caitlin Kittredge [84]
Then I left the bank and walked two blocks down from Main Street to the O’Halloran Building. My blood was pumping like I’d just done a five-mile run and the were was panting in my ear, feeding on my slow-burn rage.
Seamus was a murderer and a sadist and he was over. Through. Done. When I finished, his life and reputation would be scraps that stray dogs wouldn’t pick at. Perversely, I thought of Shelby as I strode through the O’Halloran lobby and punched the button for the highest floor the elevator went to. She’d be horrified at this course of action, but I couldn’t help feeling that, were her leg healed, she’d be here next to me.
At least, that’s what I told myself to keep my mind off what a bad idea confronting Seamus O’Halloran was, and it worked until the elevator doors dinged open.
Seamus’s secretary was a nice-looking girl, with icy eye shadow and couture clothes she probably couldn’t afford. She looked up at me and gave an audible squeak. In the slick waiting area I probably stood out like a Hell’s Angel in a roomful of priests.
“I need to see Seamus,” I informed her, flashing my badge. She squinted at the gold shield like it was covered in Sanskrit.
“Mr. O’Halloran is very busy,” she finally said, sitting back and folding her hands.
“I have no doubt,” I said. “But consider this—would you rather interrupt him or have me kick open his office door?” I cocked my head toward the frosted-glass double doors that concealed the inner office. “I’m sure these are hooked to a central alarm that has a direct line to the Nocturne City PD. You can deal with me or a dozen uniformed officers. And those guys never wipe their feet.”
Her lip curled but she reached for the silver phone on her desk, which had enough buttons to control a space station. I put my hand over hers to stop the call. “Just open the door.”
She opened her mouth to say something else prissy, and I let my eyes flame to gold. Sometimes the direct approach is best. The secretary swallowed and then pressed a switch on the underside of her desk. The lock on the inner doors clicked open.
“Smart choice,” I told the secretary. She just sat frozen with her head in her hands as I pushed open the doors, letting them bang against the wall. Seamus was pacing back and forth with a phone pressed against his ear, holding the base in his other hand like a movie magnate. His head shot up when I came in.
“Hang up the phone,” I told him. “We’re going to talk.”
“Hold on, Herb,” he said into the receiver. “Minor glitch on this end.”
“Don’t make me ask you again,” I warned. “Hang up.”
“What in seven hells is going on?” Seamus hissed at me. “How dare you bust in here, you little bitch?”
I walked over to where the phone was plugged into the wall and gently unclipped it, laying the cord on the floor. Seamus jiggled the receiver. “Herb? Herb? Shit!” He turned on me. “Do you have any idea who you just hung up on?”
I crossed my arms. “I don’t care if it was Lord Ganesh himself. We’re going to talk about Vincent Blackburn. Oh, and the poisoned blood you used to kill Vincent, and the car bomb that almost killed your niece.”
I’d expected Seamus to deny everything, yell and wave his arms and swear a lot. He was a rich white guy, after all. What I didn’t expect was for him to close the distance between us and backhand me across the face.
Had I been a normal woman pushing thirty, the blow would have flattened me. As it was, my teeth clacked together and I tasted blood on my lip. My neck snapped around, and I held there for a second, waiting for the ringing in my head to dissipate.
Seamus watched me, face florid red. He looked like he was bucking for a heart attack. I shook my head once and then met his eyes again.
“You hit like a senior citizen, Seamus.” I would be calm. I would not rise up to the challenge the were perceived. I could probably tear Seamus’s arms and legs off with my bare hands, but he