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I clasped my hands on top of my head without waiting for him to tell me. Maybe I'd get brownie points for being a cooperative prisoner. Naw.
Edward stepped out of the darkness like a blond ghost. He was dressed all in black except for his short hair and pale face. His black-gloved hands held a Beretta 9mm pointed very steadily at my chest.
"New gun?" I asked.
The ghost of a smile curled his lips. "Yes, like it?"
"Beretta's a nice gun, but you know me."
"A Browning fan," he said.
I smiled at him. Just two ol' buddies talking shop.
He pressed the gun barrel against my body while he took the Browning from me. "Lean and spread it."
I leaned on the back of the couch while he patted me down. There was nothing to find, but Edward didn't know that. He was never careless. That was one of the reasons he was still alive. That, and the fact that he was very, very good.
"You said you couldn't pick my lock," I said.
"I brought better tools," he said.
"So it's not burglarproof."
"It would be to most people."
"But not to you."
He stared at me, his eyes as empty and dead as winter's sky. "I am not most people."
I had to smile. "You can say that again."
He frowned at me. "Give me the master's name, and we don't have to do this." The gun never wavered. My Browning stuck out of the front of his belt. I hoped he'd remembered the safety. Or maybe I didn't.
I opened my mouth, closed it, and just looked at him. I couldn't give Jean-Claude over to Edward. I was the Executioner, but the vampires called Edward Death. He'd earned the name.
"I thought you'd be following me tonight."
"I went home after watching you raise the zombie. Guess I should have stayed around. Who bloodied your mouth?"
"I'm not going to tell you a bloody thing. You know that."
"Everyone breaks, Anita, everyone."
"Even you?"
That ghost of a smile was back again. "Even me."
"Someone got the better of Death? Tell, tell."
The smile widened. "Some other time."
"Nice to know there'll be another time," I said.
"I'm not here to kill you."
"Just to frighten or torture me into revealing the master's name, right?"
"Right," he said, voice soft and low.
"I was hoping you'd say wrong."
He almost shrugged. "Give me the Master of the City, Anita, and I'll go away."
"You know I can't do that."
"I know you have to, or it's going to be a very long night."
"Then it's going to be a long night, because I'm not going to give you shit."
"You won't be bullied," he said.
"Nope."
He shook his head. "Turn around, lean your waist up against the couch, and put your hands behind your back."
"Why?"
"Just do it."
"So you can tie my hands?"
"Do it, now."
"I don't think so."
The frown was back. "Do you want me to shoot you?"
"No, but I'm not going to just stand here while you tie me up, either."
"The tying up doesn't hurt."
"It's what comes after that I'm worried about."
"You knew what I'd do if you didn't help me."
"Then do it," I said.
"You're not cooperating."
"So sorry."
"Anita."
"I just don't believe in helping people who are going to torture me. Though I don't see any bamboo slivers. How can you possibly torture someone without bamboo slivers?"
"Stop it." He sounded angry.
"Stop what?" I widened my eyes and tried to look innocent and harmless, me and Kermit the Frog.
Edward laughed, a soft chuckle that rolled and expanded until he squatted on the floor, gun loose in his hands, staring up at me. His eyes were shiny.
"How can I torture you when you keep making me laugh?"
"You can't; that was the plan."
He shook his head. "No, it wasn't. You were just being a smartass. You're always a smartass."
"Nice of you to notice."
He held up his hand. "No more, please."
"I'll make you laugh until you beg for mercy."
"Just tell me the damn name. Please, Anita. Help me." The laughter drained from his eyes like the sun slipping out of the sky. I watched the humor, the humanity, slip away, until his eyes were as cold and empty as a doll's. "Don't make me hurt you," he said.
I think I was Edward's only friend, but that wouldn't stop him from hurting me. Edward had one rule: do whatever it takes to get the job done. If I forced him to torture me, he would, but he didn't want to.
"Now that you've asked nicely, try the first question again," I said.
His eyes narrowed, then he said, "Who hit you in the mouth?"
"A master vampire," I said softly.
"Tell me what happened." It was too much like an order for my taste, but he did have both the guns.
I told him everything that had happened. All about Alejandro. Alejandro who felt so old inside my head, it made my bones ache. I added one tiny lie, lost in all that truth. I told him Alejandro was Master of the City. One of my better ideas, heh?
"You really don't know where his daytime resting place is, do you?"
I shook my head. "I'd give it to you if I had it."
"Why this change of heart?"
"He tried to kill me tonight. All bets are off."
"I don't believe that."
It was too good a lie to waste, so I tried salvaging it. "He's also gone rogue. It's him and his flunkies that have been killing innocent citizens.''
Edward smirked at the innocent, but he let it go. "An altruistic motive, that I believe. If you weren't such a damn bleeding heart, you'd be dangerous."
"I kill my share, Edward."
His empty, blue eyes stared at me; then he nodded, slowly. "True."
He handed me back my gun, butt first. A tight, clenched ball in my stomach unrolled. I could breathe deep, long sighs of relief.
"If I find out where this Alejandro stays, you want in on it?"
I thought about that for a minute. Did I want to go after five rogue vampires, two of them over five hundred years old? I did not. Did I want to send even Edward after them alone? No, I did not. Which meant...
"Yeah, I want a piece of them."
Edward smiled, broad and shining. "I love my work."
I smiled back. "Me, too."
Chapter 27
Jean-Claude lay in the middle of a white canopied bed. His skin was only slightly less white than the sheets. He was dressed in a nightshirt. Lace fell down the low collar, forming a lace window around his chest. Lace flowed from the sleeves, nearly hiding his hands. It should have looked feminine, but Jean-Claude made it utterly masculine. How could any man wear a white lace gown and not look silly? Of course, he wasn't a man. That must be it. His black hair curled in the lace collar. Touchable. I shook my head. Not even in my dreams. I was dressed in something long and silky. It was a shade of blue almost as dark as his eyes. My arms looked very white against it. Jean-Claude got to his knees and reached his hand out to me. An invitation.
I shook my head.
"It is only a dream, ma petite. Will you not come to me even here?"
"It's never just a dream with you. It always means more."
His hand fell to the sheets, fingertips caressing the cloth.
"What are you trying to do to me, Jean-Claude?"
He looked very steadily at me. "Seduce you, of course."
Of course. Silly me.
The phone beside the bed rang. It was one of those white princess phones with lots of gold on it. There hadn't been a telephone a second before. It rang again, and the dream fell to shreds. I came awake grabbing for the phone.
"Hello."
"Hey, did I wake you?" Irving Griswold asked.
I blinked at the phone. "Yeah, what time is it?"
"It's ten o'clock. I know better than to call early."
"What do you want, Irving?"
"Grouchy."
"I got in late. Can we skip the sarcasm?"
"I, your true-blue reporter friend, will forgive you that grumpy hello, if you answer a few questions."
"Questions?" I sat up, hugging the phone to me. "What are you talking about?"
