Page 84 of Heart and Soul
Recovering from the shock, the revenant dodges Jay’s third punch and is poised for a lethal counterstrike when I pounce on him. We slam against the table. When he feels metal at his neck, he goes very still.
“You know what I got for you, and it ain’t a Fitbit,” I growl through clenched teeth. “You may be demon on the inside, but this body is pure fanger.”
“That doesn’t work out so well for you,” says a deep voice behind me. “Fangers need blood, and you’re full of it.”
Seeing Jay’s eyes widen and his fists clench, I have a pretty good guess what I’ll see when I turn around. Releasing Pinstripes, I face the new threat: two more vampires with cataract eyes. The one who spoke is by far the biggest. A black stripe runs down his chin and throat. With a pencil mustache and wavy, golden hair falling to one side of his widow’s peak hairline, he has the swashbuckling good looks of a movie star from the Golden Age of Hollywood. Or hewouldhave, you know, if he weren’t a demon zombie.
“Capra, yes, here you are,” says Alfred to him with a forced smile.
“Yes, here I am. And just in time, by the looks of it.”
“Oh, it’s nothing at all. These illustrious guests have simply expressed a modicum of distaste for the—I’m sorry to admit—rather unrefined demeanor ofcertainstaff members.”
I raise a finger. “Translation: where we’re from, we see a face with fangs, we bitch-slap that face.”
The tall, thin pinstripe guy swipes the ash wood toothpick from my hand. “With this.”
Capra sweeps a golden curl from his brow. “I see. That’s how it’s done where you’re from? And where, exactly, is that?”
“Is this an interrogation now?” I should stop with that, but I can’t resist the opportunity to say something I’ll never otherwise get a chance to say. “You forget your place.”
Okay, see—dammit—it’s too much. Capra’s eyes kindle with anger. He trades looks with Pinstripes, and then the other revenant goon, who looks surprisingly young—I’d guess eighteen. He wears one of those round bowler hats pulled down low above his eyes.
Yeah, I need to move this along before my big mouth gets us killed. I nod to the toothpick. “You can keep that.”
“I will,” Pinstripes says, and to my delight, he stuffs it into his shirt pocket.
Capra clears his throat. “Now then. If it’s not beyond mystation,” he says sarcastically, “might I ask if you are otherwise armed?”
I jerk my thumbs at Jay and Russo. “You mean, besides these guys?”
“Powerful sorcerers, no doubt. However, sorcery is of no concern to anyone tonight. The entire ballroom is warded against magic.”
“Does it look like I depend on my magic?” Russo says.
“No. No, it doesn’t.” Capra’s eyes turn suspicious, sliding to each of us in turn. “Not at all.”
Alfred clasps his hands together. “Well, shall we?”
Capra takes the hint, though reluctantly. He leads his goons up a pile of rubble that used to be stairs.
“Now then, about that EMP…”
“Hit us with your best shot, Alfred.”
“Very good, ma’am.” He traces a circle in the air, then seems to push it in our direction. A ripple of energy washes over us. “Simple as that. Please proceed upstairs to the ballroom. Mind the steps. Rubble and ruin, though pleasing to the eye, can be murder on ankles.”
Hillerman opens her clutch bag and produces a crisp hundred-dollar bill for the demon. He accepts it with a deep bow and says, “May your night produce exquisite debauchery and wickedness.”
“Oh, don’t worry, we’re going to bring the house down,” I promise him as Jay leads us upstairs.
With a sigh, Hillerman flicks her tracking device into the rubble. “So much for these.”
“So much foryours,” I correct her. “Mine is in play.”
All three of their heads snap toward me. Hillerman is the first to connect the dots. “Toothpick.”
Russo whistles softly. “Tricky, damn. Bringing your A game. Love it.”
