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I was just hanging up when Camille’s phone rang. She answered and sat up straight. After murmuring a few words, she gave an abrupt “Yes” and flipped the cell shut.
“What was that about?”
“That…was Trytian. He wants to meet. He knows about Gulakah and wants to talk to us about him.” She kicked the table leg. “I don’t want to deal with him, but…”
“But considering what we think we know, we’d better meet with him. Like it or not, Trytian’s on our side against the Demon Lord, and we need all the help we can get. Especially if Van and Jaycee were playing us all this time.”
“Yeah. I told him we’d meet him in thirty minutes at Salsa Ria.”
Salsa Ria was a popular twenty-four-hour Tex-Mex all-you-can-eat buffet. I perked up. We’d been going for a while on empty stomachs and too little sleep. Food would be good, even if we weren’t looking forward to the most congenial breakfast partner.
Shade, Trillian, and Smoky weren’t all that thrilled when we told them we were headed to meet Trytian, but they acquiesced as usual. They knew we weren’t going to budge. I called Chase first. He had his men out looking for Andy Gambit, and he promised to call me the minute they found him.
As we walked in the door of Salsa Ria, the smells hit my stomach like a sledgehammer and I began to salivate. We looked around and there he was, sitting at a round table near the back: Trytian.
We hadn’t seen him since the night at Stacia Bonecrusher’s safe house where she’d escaped and Trytian had nearly blown us all sky-high. He looked a little like Keanu Reeves with an insolent grin, smug and self-satisfied. Only now, his hair was in a spiked shag, a dark mirror to Vanzir’s, and he looked stronger than before.
He watched us as we approached, his eyes lighting. I sucked in a deep breath. He’d better watch it, with both Smoky and Shade on hand. They wouldn’t put up with any crap from him.
We sat down and a waitress came over. Trytian patiently waited as I ordered beef fajitas and a salad. Camille ordered a chicken wrap, and Trillian asked for a bowl of their corn and red pepper soup.
When she left, Trytian leaned forward and, mostly looking at Camille, said, “Thanks for meeting me. I know you didn’t want to, but it’s in both of our best interests.”
“Get this straight, Trytian.” She folded her arms on the table, leaning on her elbows. “I don’t like you. We don’t like you. But there have been a few developments that we all need to be aware of. Including you, because you could fuck things up for us if you don’t understand the ramifications of what has happened.”
Ignoring the rest of us, Trytian leaned forward across the table, staring at her boobs rather than her face. “Tell me all about it, babe.”
Smoky apparently didn’t like the direction of Trytian’s gaze because he leaned between them and, with one finger, poked the daemon in the chest. “Stop staring at my wife’s breasts or I will teach you what it means to enrage a dragon.”
Trytian sucked in a quick breath and leaned back in his chair. “A lot like your old man, aren’t you? How’s it hanging with Hyto, by the way? I hear he met with an untimely end after having himself quite a party.” The smirk was back, and his eyes glittered as he challenged Smoky silently.
Trillian grabbed Smoky’s arm. “Don’t let him get to you. We have bigger fish to fry. Wait till we’re done with Shadow Wing.” He turned to Trytian. “You can look all you want until Camille decides to spit in your face. But let one finger touch what does not belong to you and you’ll lose your dick. Understand matters?”
“Enough!” I was done with the posturing. And with Trytian. “Let’s get down to business and leave the testosterone for later.”
Trytian pulled back and shrugged. Trillian winked at me. I waited for a moment and then turned to the daemon. “Talk to me, not my sister.”
“Fine by me, kitty-cat.”
“Her name is Delilah. You treat her with respect or you’ll have two dragons on your tail.” Shade drawled out his words in a lazy tone, but the threat was implicit.
Trytian snorted and was suddenly all business. The game had apparently worn thin. “Whatever. Let’s get on with this. You know about Gulakah, then?”
“We do, at least to the degree that he’s here, he’s in Shadow Wing’s pocket, and he rules over angry ghosts. We now believe that Telazhar, Van, and Jaycee are also in Shadow Wing’s pocket. We think Shadow Wing knew Stacia was out to take his spot, and he was setting her up. Testing her loyalty before he let her get mowed down by us.”
Trytian shifted in his seat, the smirk fading from his face. “Is this speculation or fact?”
“We’re not positive, but we have circumstantial evidence. We think that Shadow Wing sent in Tregarts, who are now infiltrating the Freedom’s Angels. We know for a fact they’ve been trying to cause a schism between the FBHs and the Supes. In fact, want to make a bet that whoever started the Church of the Earthborn Brethren is a plant for Shadow Wing? And those same Tregarts, why not use them to spy on the son of the daemon who’s leading the opposition down in the Sub-Realms? You thought Van and Jaycee were on your side because they hung out with Stacia? Think again.”
He pressed his lips together. I could see the wheels turning in his head. After a few minutes, he blinked, slowly, and said, “All right. You’ve given me the heads-up, but since you won’t work with me on my terms, I’ll take care of my own backyard. Trust me, the Tregarts in my employ will be gone by morning. And they won’t be on a flight home. Now, since you’ve done me a favor, I’ll give you something in return. You’ve heard of the Energy Exchange?”
Camille cleared her throat. “The magical bar. We’re thinking Jaycee and Van are behind it. We’ve run across a lot of references to the club in our investigations the past couple of days. We also know that a magical stun gun most likely came from there during our last dealings with the Koyanni.”
“You’re right. Only you won’t find the pair on the owner’s certificate. One of the Tregarts I’ve been talking to spilled that little news while drunk. He didn’t count on my booze being of a much stronger nature than the Earthside alcohol.” He laughed, his voice coarse. “Most people—demon or otherwise—underestimate my abilities.”
Again, his glance shifted to Camille. You’re really walking on thin ice, dude, I thought. I snapped my fingers, and he shook his head and shrugged. “Yeah…well, that aside, what were you saying about the bar?”
“The Tregart told me that his bosses had opened the bar to attract recruits. He said that anybody who walked in there and stayed would be the kind of people they were looking for.” Trytian picked up a sugar packet and began playing with it, tapping it on the table. He ripped the top off and poured it into his coffee and stirred.
