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“Not sure about that, either,” I admitted. “They’re certainly not giving me any names, but they did kinda make it clear that this is part of a cycle.”
“This… whatsis…”
“Nemontemi,” I replied, trying my best to say it the way that Taavi had said it. I probably didn’t succeed, but I was trying. “It’s the five days at the end of the Aztec year, basically. When you have to be really careful because of luck or some shit.”
“So, what, they’re… hedging bets or something?”
“No idea. Maybe they want to stop the cult? I don’t fucking know. Taavi thinks these murderous idiots are trying to end the fucking world.”
Ward sighed. “Fucking great.” I agreed with the sentiment. Most of this shit was just raising more questions, and what we really needed were answers. “So what do we do with this?” my boss wanted to know.
“Sorry, boss. I got nothin’,” I told him.
Another sigh. “Be careful, Hart.”
“Ditto, Ward.”
“And Hart?”
“Yeah, boss?”
“Take care of Taavi, too.”
I felt my lips twitch. “I will.”
This time, Ward hung up on me.
I awkwardly shifted the phone away from my shoulder, smearing dough grease all over it in the process, which is what I’d been trying to avoid.
“Fuck it,” I muttered under my breath, then just left the phone on the counter, turning my attention back to the bread dough.
So far, thebolillodough was acting just like every other bread dough I’d ever made, so I continued feeling fairly confident about it. I was rushing a bit, though, because I wanted thecapriotadato be a surprise, so I wanted the dough to be rising again when Taavi came back out.
I shaped the dough into balls, then pulled and twisted them into the shape specified by the recipe. Technically speaking, I could probablynotmake them into funny little football-shaped things, since I was just going to cut them up again for the pudding, but there’s no reason not to do things right when it comes to baking.
In this, at least, I was successful, managing to get all the rolls twisted out and covered to rise. Which left me standing and staring at the stupid email, trying to figure out what, exactly I was supposed todoabout it. This was a two-pronged problem, since I had to figure out both what this Xipe Totec wanted from me and what I actually needed to and could do about it.
In the RPD there were protocols to follow, tech guys to trace things like IP and shit, and resources to tap into. I was pretty sure Raj had the tech guys and Ward was going to sic Doc on the research resources, and I did have Taavi, who was a veritable fount of knowledge when it came to fucked up Aztec shit.
But I didn’t have protocols.
What I had was an email that I didn’t have the ability to do anything about. I just had to wait for everybody else to do things about it.
But what nobody had suggested yet was what Xipe Totec wanted fromme.
If you were going to email Beyond the Veil, there was a catch-all company email that Doc or Ward would filter through to the right person—one of them, Beck, or me. But Xipe Totec didn’t email the company. They’d emailedme.
And I hadn’t the faintest fucking idea why.
I sucked in a sharp breath as a warm hand touched the small of my back.
Taavi wasquiet.
I turned, letting his hand slide around my side, immediately running my fingers through his damp hair.
“Hi.”
He smiled up at me. “Nenek.”
