Hunted By the Others. Jess Haines
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getting more and more like a bad gangster movie by the minute.
“Look, no offense or anything, but no thanks. I’m just trying to do my job.” Man, I could be remarkably polite when under threat of having my throat slit. “I didn’t ask to get involved with these things, and I have no plans on ever working for either leech or mage ever again once I finish out my contract.”
Since my eyes were adjusting to the dark, I was finally able to make out the small white cowboy hat pins at their collars, and some of the smooth talker’s features. Tall and skinny White Hat was about as white bread as they come, probably blond and blue-eyed though it was still too dark to be sure. Mr. Deep Voice had mahogany skin, blending well with the shadows. They were both wearing dark clothing, leaving most of their bodies indistinct, though I could now see well enough to note that Mr. Smooth Talker was frowning.
Thankfully, it didn’t seem like they were going to press the issue. After the two shared a look I couldn’t read, Mr. Deep Voice spoke up.
“We’ll give you some time to think about it. Remember what you’re dealing with, little girl. Leeches and sparks are dangerous. They both play for keeps. Be a real pity to stumble over your body in an alley somewhere.”
“Thanks for the advice. Get out.”
Under the circumstances, that was about as polite as I could be. I wanted to add a few colorful expletives, threats, and suggestions of my own to the mix, but I figured I could do without the gaping stab wounds I’d likely get for my efforts.
The two of them quickly exited the bedroom, fading into the deeper shadows of my living room. I got up and rushed over in time to watch them slip out a window and onto the fire escape. Damn, they’d cut a neat little hole in the glass and simply flipped the lock over to let themselves in. I considered calling the cops, but chances were I could call in an order for pizza, too, and the food would get here first. The trail would be stone cold by the time they arrived.
Just great. Slamming the window shut and locking it behind them, not that it would do much good with the four-inch hole in it, I thought about what the two men had said and how exactly I would explain the damage to the window to my landlord.
No matter what I did, who I chose to work for, or what choices I made, I’d be pissing somebody off. I had my pick between The Circle, Royce, or the White Hats. The White Hats were obviously an unstable element, considering they thought I’d be more amenable to joining their fun and games at knifepoint. The Circle had me in a contractual pinch I wouldn’t be able to break out of with any ease. Royce would probably hit the roof as soon as he figured out what I was really after. Each and every one of them had the resources and clout to make my life miserable or even make me disappear. One, or more, of them would have a reason to want me to, once I made a move.
I wandered back to my bed and sat down on the edge, staring blankly at the wall. My hands had started shaking again. Right now, Royce seemed like my safest bet, seeing as he was the only one of the three who hadn’t threatened me. Yet.
I was so dead.
Chapter 8
After a very long, very sleepless night, I finally broke down and called Sara around 7:30. That was pushing it on a Saturday morning, but I desperately needed some reassurances. She picked up on the fifth ring.
“Ugh. Yeah, what?” Her grouchy, morning-gravelly voice was comforting in its familiarity.
“Sara, someone broke in during the night. I’m in deep. I met with Royce last night, and now I’ve got White Hats on my tail.”
Yeesh, and I’d thought the White Hats were being melodramatic last night. Must be rubbing off.
“What?!”
The edge to her voice made me cringe. I hadn’t quite meant to get it all out in a rush like that, but there was no help for it now.
“Shia, what the hell? I mean, great, you got ahold of Royce, but what’s with the White Hats? Are you okay? Anything stolen?”
Sighing, I rubbed a hand over my face. “No, nothing stolen. I’m okay. These two guys broke in through the fire escape and politely asked me at knifepoint to join their cause.”
Her silence was making me nervous.
Then she said quietly, “And what did you tell them?”
“I invited them for tea and crumpets. Give me a break, Sara, I told them to get the hell out and leave me alone.”
She sounded more relieved than anything. “I was just checking, chill out. So what’re you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Probably go down to see Veronica today and take her up on that offer for equipment. Might as well take advantage of it. Maybe they have something useful against vamps and rogue zealots.”
After a short bark of laughter, she asked, a little more normally, “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, I’m okay. I just needed to tell someone.”
My turn to hesitate. I didn’t like having to say the next part, but the White Hats didn’t leave me a lot of choice after last night. Not that I’d had a choice since agreeing to work for The Circle.
“Listen, watch your back. I know this is my run, but I’ve got a bad feeling this one’s going to go wonky and I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”
“Hey, what are partners for? If you need a place to crash until this blows over, just bring some clothes and come by. Oh, and check in with me before sunset or I’ll come looking.”
“Thanks, I may just take you up on that. I’ll call you after I see what The Circle’s got to offer.”
“Be careful, Shia.”
“I will. Thanks, Sara.”
Only after I hung up did I remember that I was supposed to chew her out for not telling me about the financial straits our business was in. Oh well. I’d bug her about it when I had a few less important things on my mind. Things like my impending demise and need to decide what side of the supernatural fence I was on.
I still had the jitters and didn’t feel like lying around, so I got up to shower and get dressed. After pulling on a comfortable pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, I made myself a bagel with lox and cream cheese, a cup of coffee, and headed over to my computer. A few clicks and passwords later, I was staring at my e-mail.
Two were from Mom, one a joke and the other a reminder for Sara and me that my brother Damien’s birthday barbecue was on Sunday. Spam. Spam. More spam. A note from my brother Mikey asking if I knew what Damien wanted and if I wanted in on a joint gift. A few offers to enlarge my PEN15 and get a better mortgage rate. Lo and behold, my in-box also had an e-mail from Veronica Wright sent early last night, and another from Alec Royce from less than two hours ago.
The sun had risen about three hours ago. Did that mean vamps could move about in daylight? Great, that was more than I needed to know.
I clicked open Veronica’s e-mail first.
TO: S. Waynest
FROM: Veronica Wright
SUBJECT: Update
I haven’t heard since you signed the contract Thursday. I am concerned. Update?
Irritated at her impatience, I clattered out a quick response.
Met with our subject last night. Progress being made. I would like to get together with you this afternoon RE: equipment. Are you available?
Next came Royce’s message. I remembered belatedly that he’d written something on the back of his business card before he gave it to me, and wondered if that had anything to do with it.
TO: S. Waynest
FROM: Alec D. Royce
SUBJECT: Security
I have received word that our friends the W.H.s