Page 123 of Throwing Shade
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As I drove,I wrote a new to-do plan in my head. The first item was easy. Tell Tatiana about Max. The second—figure out how to unenthrall Jude—was where I got stuck. As in quicksand stuck. Assuming cleaving the dybbuk with my scythe was the same, how did I get it out of Jude to dispense with it?
I had to assume the worst-case scenario that the dybbuk would kill her at sundown on Friday, not Saturday. That gave me less than twenty-four hours to figure this out.
I pulled up in front of my house and cut the engine, resting my head back against the seat. Max was dead because I’d brought trouble to his door. I held my head in my hands, a hard lump gnawing in the pit of my stomach, then I steeled myself and dialed Tatiana’s number.
“Miriam,” she said. “Was Max able to help you?”
“He’s… a vampire got him. I'm sorry.”
“Zev already called to apologize that they hadn’t gotten their rogue vamp in time.” Bullshit. But I put it in my back pocket for another day. Tatiana sighed. “If I know Max, he couldn’t wait to get into it with the bloodsucker.”
Zev and Tatiana had enough of a connection that he informed her when one of his vamps killed a friend of hers? More than that, he knew who was in her circle? My blood chilled and I rubbed my hands briskly over my arms. If I pissed Tatiana off, would she send the vamps after me? I’d assumed that as Zev was able to keep Lonestars at bay, see past my cloaking, and maintain such a tight hold on his vampires that news of their existence didn’t leak out to the Sapien world, he was the most dangerous figure in the city.
I wasn’t so certain anymore.
“Did Max have any family?” I said.
“No,” Tatiana said. “I’ll take care of things. Did he at least teach you how to deal with your problem?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“Oh, bubeleh.” Her remorse sounded genuine. “You’ve got a Yiddisher kop. You’ll figure it out.”
Goldie always said I was smart, too. I spared a wistful smile for my cousin. She lived in Florida most of the time now, married to a great guy, and only came back a few months out of the year.
“Thanks, Tatiana.”
I was about to get out of my car when Eli’s door opened, and he and Chris stepped out. Chris was a nice enough guy, if somewhat blond and bland. I slid down in my seat, not wanting them to catch me spying, but totally needing to see this for myself so I could call Eli on his crap that he’d leave Chris happier for their time together.
After the shit show of tonight, I was taking a moment of gleeful pettiness. It beat drinking.
Eli clasped Chris’ shoulder and Chris tensed. Yes. This was it. Let the fight begin. Eli jogged back inside, while Chris waited with crossed arms. My ex returned with the remaining cheesecake and handed it to Chris.
Chris smiled and made some joke that Eli laughed at.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
Chris waved and got into his car.
I stared at his departing headlights, shaking my head, jealous of the blithe ease with which Eli moved through the world. Sure, he had his fair share of darkness to deal with as a homicide detective, but he had a team. I was on my own with Jude.
I bit the inside of my cheek. That wasn’t exactly true. Laurent had pulled his weight, helping me even after he’d dispatched Mei Lin. I owed him an apology.
There was a rap on my window and I yelped, going for my lighter.
A woman with unnaturally defined biceps motioned for me to roll down my window. “You missed book club,” Military Marsha said. “I thought you must be ill, so I brought you some of Jody’s pumpkin cranberry cookies.” She gave me a fake smile. “But look at you, in the pink of health.”
You cow. Jody’s cookies were so inedible even the garburator choked on them. I got out of the car with a determined set of my chin. Sure, I’d forgotten all about tonight’s meeting, but this was my chance. I could finally break up with book club and tell Marsha my opinion of her book choices and her autocratic ways.
I braced a hand on top of the car door, reconsidering. After all I’d been through, and everything yet to come, I didn’t want to be mean. I just wanted out.
“I should have called and let you know I wasn’t coming,” I said. “The truth is that I haven’t really felt connected to our club or the books for some time now. I think it’s best if I bow out.”
Marsha twisted the foil packet of cookies so hard it blew chunks. “Book club is a year-long commitment. This was clearly outlined in the club rules you were first given. We can’t have people flitting in and out willy-nilly mid-year. That would be highly disruptive to our congenial ambience.”
“I’m still going to have to decline.”
