Page 48 of Redeemed
I turn my attention to Mikael, but he’s locked in a staredown with David.
“Enough.” I snap my fingers and they both jump. “Now tell me who you really heard these rumors from.”
Mikael’s earnestness has been replaced by a sardonic sneer. “Whodidn’tI hear them from? It’s all over the place. You’re a dead man and you’re planning to take the Princess with you.”
His accusation hits me like a punch to the gut. “What? That’s not true.”
Accalia and Lydia are having a wordless conversation. Finally the empath turns to me. “He’s telling the truth, too.”
“But I’m not dying and the only thing I want for the Princess is to return her to her family.”
“Interesting. They’re both telling the truth.” Accalia settles back in her seat with a small frown.
“So here’s what I think,” Lydia says, and we all give her our attention. “I think you three”—she points at the elves—“are being fed bullshit from somewhere.”
Accalia yelps, like she’s going to interrupt, and Lydia takes hold of her hand. “Yeah, shug, I know you heard truth, but there must be a screwup somewhere. I also know”—she looks hard at the elves—“that Connor MacPherson can turn into a bodach, so unless you want to meet a specter of death, I’d suggest you back the hell off.”
Kowalski gives me a measured look. “We’re low on patience, MacPherson. Find the Princess and return her to us, or next time we won’t bow to the whims of society.”
The waiter sets a drink in front of him with a little smirk. “Yeah, you get extra credit for behaving in public. I know that’s hard for an elf.”
He spins away, his laughter trailing behind. David’s laughing too, and Lydia’s grinning broadly. Kowalski’s staring at his drink like the waiter spit in it, a reasonable concern. For me, I’m ready for this night to be over. I can’t remember why we came here in the first place, and as the conversation drags on around me, I get frustrated.
This isn’t helping us get Trajan back. This isn’t helping anything.
The elves finish their drinks and with a final barrage of warnings and threats, they leave. I’m ready to close out the tab, but David covers my credit card hand with his. “Hang on. Sheena’ll be here in a minute.”
I stifle a groan. “What does she want?”
“She says she talked with Trajan.”
That’s about the only response that could have kept me in my seat. The waiter refills my coffee and sure enough, Sheena comes through the door before I can add any cream.
Sheena’s an imposing figure, no matter what she’s wearing, but tonight she’s channeling her inner Trinity. She’s wearing shades and a black leather coat with exaggerated lapels and a wide belt. Her hair’s in a tight bun, highlighting her elegant bone structure and her fierce frown.
We all stand and shake hands like grown-ups, and if Lydia keeps a hand on Accalia I can’t blame her. Once we’re seated, David flags the waiter and Sheena shrugs out of her coat.
“David says you heard from Trajan,” I say, leaving space for her to answer the question I haven’t quite asked.
She nods, and while she doesn’t look happy, I don’t get the sense that I’m the object of her ire. “He must have borrowed a phone, and of course he called when I was in the shower. He left a voicemail saying he needed to stay out of LA but to tell you two that he was okay and he’d be in touch soon.” She frowns in the direction of the frilly drink David’s got in front of him. It’s his third, but he’ll be fine. Werewolf.
“He said to keep my wits about me”—she smiles, propped on her elbows, like we’re besties having a little gab session—“and now you need to tell me what the hell is really going on.”
“Got my curiosity too,” Lydia says, and I realize she and Accalia are going to hear more than we might want them to. I’m still pondering the implications of that when David starts to talk.
“A while ago Trajan’s maker commanded him to kill Connor, and we’re trying to figure out an alternative solution.”
Sheena nods like that’s not new information, and Lydia takes the straw from her drink and bends it in half, her attention locked on David. “Such as?”
David’s expression goes stern. “Trajan needs to break from Jacques.”
“I assume these are vampires.” Accalia glances from David to Lydia and back.
“Yeah.” Lydia shoots her a smile, all the while twisting the straw in a tight spiral. “You’re going to have to kill him. Jacques, I mean.”
“Yup.” I drop the word into the middle of us and and it lies there quivering.
“Why?”
