Page 207 of Red Rooster

“How did you–? When did…”

“I think he gets it, Jamie, thanks.”

Jamie shut the laptop lid.

Trina folded her arms on the table. “Okay. So. Here’s where we’re at: we have this video. And before you go thinking that you can whack me over the head and steal the computer, you should know two things. One: I’ve got two vamps watching my back right now.” She didn’t glance toward the corner where Lanny and Alexei sat with coffees and untouched Danishes. Through the process of their rescue attempt, the two of them had become friends. Alexei was currently laughing – eyes scrunched up and mouth open – at something Lanny had said. But both of them had their bodies angled toward her, ready to leap to her defense.

“Two,” she continued. “We’ve already uploaded this video to several other computers, some flash drives, and the cloud. So. You can’t get rid of it. And I have a friend who’s been instructed to upload it to YouTube should I suddenly disappear.”

He took several deep breaths, staring at her.

“You’re a smart man, Dr. Fowler. I think you know what kind of global panic would break out if the general public saw what’s on this video.”

He swallowed. His expression cycled through several variations on fury, but she could see the defeat there, too. Finally, he said, “What do you want?”

She flashed him her coldest, angriest smile. “I want, in no uncertain terms, to be left the hell alone. Lanny, Jamie, Alexei, Nikita, and Sasha. My family – because I have no doubt that at this point you know who and where they are. You’re going to leave all of us alone. Forever.”

“You’re an idiot,” he seethed quietly. “You have no idea what’s coming.”

“I have some idea.” She nodded toward the computer. “And if I ever feel like I need to get involved, then I will. But right now, you and your Institute are going to have to make do without us. The monsters you’re making can do all sorts of things, but they can’t navigate the PR storm that’ll rain down on your heads if that video leaks. How successful do you think your war efforts will be if the voting public starts demanding to know just exactly where their tax dollars are going?”

He glanced away, eyes shiny behind the lenses of his glasses.

“What’ll it be, Doc?”

“Fine,” he bit out, and pushed to his feet.

Trina watched him walk all the way out the door, down the sidewalk, and around the corner before she collapsed onto her elbows, letting the table hold her weight. “Holy shit, I didn’t think that would work.”

“You didn’t?” Jamie asked, scandalized.

“It was worth a shot.”

Across the café, Lanny winked at her.

~*~

“…should have both your badges for this!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Not even a goddamn phone call! And with open cases!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Stop saying that, I’m trying to yell at you!”

“Yes–” Lanny started, and Trina stepped on his foot.

Captain Abbot had been screaming for a while. His face had turned an alarming shade of plum and Trina thought the big vein in the middle of his forehead could blow at any moment. The office door was shut, but she glimpsed the occasional curious face peeking in through the gapped blinds.

It was no less than they deserved, so they’d resolved to endure it and then offer apologies.

Momentarily derailed, Captain Abbot braced his hands on the edge of his desk and took several huge breaths. Trina wondered if she was about to have to administer CPR.

“Sir,” she said, and his glare was enough to make any vamp or werewolf cower. “It was completely unprofessional of us, and we’ll understand if you need to take some sort of disciplinary action. But we were afraid that announcing the trip would tip off the dealer we were trying to track.”

He stared at her a moment. “The dealer who sicced the dogs on our vics,” he said, slowly, repeating their concocted story back to them. “Who went underground. Who you tracked to Virginia.” His gaze flicked between the two of them.

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