Page 90 of The Shade of Things
I shrugged in answer to my boss’s question. “Maxwell confirmed their evil agenda, refused to answer any other questions, and then threatened me when I encouraged him to be more forthcoming.”
Tatiana’s lips quirked at my light way of describing the encounter. “A dead end?”
“Only metaphorically. What do you take me for? On a more serious note, though, I’m guessing we’re turning this case over to the Lonestars?”
“Obviously,” she said. I was pleased and a bit surprised that she didn’t argue about losing the case, given there was no love lost between Tatiana and the magic cops. “There wouldn’t be anyone to pay us.”
I snorted.
“I’m going up to my studio for a bit. Ryann is coming over in a couple hours.” Tatiana stood up. “Once we’ve officially handed it over, we’ll return to my memoirs.”
“Good job finding Teresa Wong and surviving that game,” I said to her retreating back. “I’m so impressed with your work, Miriam.”
“Sounds like someone needs their participation trophy,” she trilled back.
“Yeah, well, people give me cookies.” I smiled at her faint humph.
With time to kill, I checked in with Zev. After our last encounter, I felt like we’d moved past texting to actual phone calls. A more personal connection. Nice thought. I was sent to a voice mail without any greeting attached and left the message that I’d spoken to the Consortium guy and to let me know when we should meet.
The head vamp texted me a few minutes later to come to Blood Alley immediately. There was no helpful emoji to denote tone. I replied with a thumbs-up in case he was unfamiliar with the concept of these pictograms and their incredible usefulness.
His reply was swift. Never send me one of those again.
I made my way there, humming the disco classic “Born to Be Alive,” with the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. I even snagged a parking spot close to the gates, but my optimism about this meeting was short-lived.
Rodrigo met me inside, once again wearing the silly-looking chauffeur’s cap trimmed in gold braid.
I scrunched up my face. “Are you covering a bald spot? I totally support you doing whatever makes you feel like your best self, but have you considered branching out? A fedora? Maybe a smart derby? You’d look very fetching in one.”
“Mr. BatKian has been called away unexpectedly. Your meeting is canceled.”
Zev wanted this meeting as soon as possible, so why bail?
Uneasy, I surreptitiously backed up toward the exit. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.” Given how weary Zev had been lately, I doubted that. “He’ll reschedule as soon as possible,” Rodrigo added.
“As long as you’re here, maybe you can help me. Did Celeste take up residence at Damien’s old place? I need to speak to Ian.”
“I’m not at liberty to say where Mr. BatKian’s granddaughter resides,” Rodrigo said, looming over me. “Don’t go looking for her.”
I pushed him out of my personal space, but he went precisely nowhere. “You’re blotting out the sun. Step back.”
He didn’t budge an inch.
“I’m not looking to start trouble,” I said. “I’d like to compare my findings with Ian’s experience. I need two minutes with the man, that’s it.”
Rodrigo thought about it, then nodded. “Wait here.”
“Thank you, my fine fellow.” I tipped an imaginary cap at him.
A muscle in his jaw ticked, then he pivoted sharply and stalked off.
Look at me, bringing joy and delight to this person’s day.
My upbeat mood lasted the first ten minutes I was kept waiting. I buoyed myself up for another fifteen with multiple games of Tetris, but after that I was bored and annoyed. If this was payback for my cracks about his dumb hat, well, all right, I guess he’d gotten me.
Just as I was about to leave, Rodrigo arrived with Ian. The Undertaker took my “I need two minutes” as fact and set a damn timer on his phone.
