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She arched an eyebrow. “And why would I bother with such an endeavor?”
“Well, you did make less-than-veiled threats against my friends if I didn’t do what you want.”
“Ah yes, I remember.” Her amusement grew. “But given you are doing as I desire, there is no need for such action as yet, is there, now?”
Her reply was almost purred. If I could have reached down the phone and strangled the bitch, I would have.
“I guess not.” It was said through somewhat clenched teeth. “But the fact of the matter is that I’m not having much luck tracking down the Jorõgumo.”
“But you found two of her nests. Or was the burned-out bedroom not your handiwork?”
I mentally swore and rubbed my forehead wearily. I was starting to get one hell of a headache, and I suspected it wouldn’t go away in a hurry. Not unless I drowned it under several gallons of alcohol, and that wasn’t particularly practical right now—even if it sounded like the best idea I’d had for ages.
“What did Rhoan say in his report?”
“That something or someone destroyed what appeared to be a nest of spiders in one Ms. Summers’s bedroom.”
And how had he come to that conclusion given that Amaya’s flames had consumed just about everything? And why hadn’t I received a phone call demanding to know why the hell I was even anywhere near the place given my promise not to investigate? He surely wouldn’t have missed the fact that the Ducati was parked right outside. If she was still parked outside, that was. Knowing my uncle, he’d probably ordered her confiscated, just to teach me a lesson.
“I burned the bastards because I didn’t think anyone would want a friggin’ nest of Jorõgumos remaining in existence,” I said, with a touch more annoyance than was probably wise. Just because she seemed to be amused didn’t mean she actually was. “They were too young to be in any form other than spider, so it was unlikely the Directorate witches would have gotten any information out of them.”
“And what about the mama spider?”
“Well, she’s supposed to be performing at someplace called the Falcon Club at midnight, but I don’t like our chances of catching her there.”
The amusement faded. Rapidly. “And why would that be?”
Because I burned her babies and it’s more than likely she sensed it. But I wasn’t about to actually say that. My life might not be fun at the moment, but I sure as hell wasn’t ready to see it end just yet.
“Because we’re not dealing with a dumb spirit here. She spotted me at Hallowed Ground and did a runner. She knows we’re after her.”
“Not even a spirit can deny the urge of a mother to feed her young,” Hunter commented. “She didn’t kill this afternoon, so if she still has young to feed, she will be forced to do so either tonight or tomorrow.”
Undoubtedly. “So do you want me to go to the Falcon Club, or would you rather?” I kept my fingers crossed for the latter, because the last thing I really felt like right now was traipsing off to another bloody club.
As usual, it was a forlorn hope.
“I have no desire to be involved in the grunt work of investigating. That is what underlings are for.”
A smile touched her lips, but it was in no way a nice smile. Just for a moment, I thought about Harry Stanford’s offer and was tempted. Seriously tempted.
But only briefly. However desperate I might be feeling, I wasn’t insane, and there was no way in hell I was going to cross the line and go up against Hunter.
“Just remember to contact me once you have found her,” she continued, in that same sweet, do-it-or-I’ll-kill-you voice. “Because I very much intend to do to her what she did to Wolfgang.”
Consume her? Not just her blood, but her intestines, guts, and brain? Surely to god that wasn’t possible for a vampire to do—blood yes, but not the innards as well? And yet if any vampire could be capable of it, then it would be Hunter.
Somehow, I managed to keep the horror out of my voice as I said, “You’ll be the first person I call.”
“I had best be the only call you make where this case is concerned.”
I’d meant the comment sarcastically—it wasn’t like I could call anyone else, anyway. But I didn’t bother replying. I just hung up, shoved the phone away, and glanced at my watch. “Well, it’s nine o’clock. Given I can’t do anything else to find Ilianna, and I have no intention of going to that damn club earlier than I have to, we’ve got only one option left.”
“And that is?” Azriel said, the slightest hint of a smile breaking his otherwise bland expression.
“We go home and make mad, crazy love to each other. Let’s grab a moment of utter normality before the shit hits the fan completely.”
Because a storm was coming. I could feel it. And I had a bad, bad suspicion I might not survive it.
