He held up placating hands. “Just kidding.”
“This isn’t funny. It’s like being a freaking prisoner!”
He started to answer, but the phone rang. It wasn’t the main line, but a black cell phone sitting on the card table. Marco picked it up, glanced at the readout, scowled and hung up. He looked at me. “Better than being a freaking corpse.”
“Didn’t you hear me? This isn’t going to help!”
“It will if that thing goes after you. It already possessed you once—”
“And won’t again.” I pulled out Pritkin’s little amulet. He’d left me another one before he took the mage off to the Corps’ version of a hospital. It might be stinky, but I liked it a lot better than the alternative.
“That only works on Fey,” Marco pointed out, wrinkling his nose.
“Which this thing is.”
“Which this thing may be. That ain’t been decided yet.”
“It spoke in a Fey dialect—”
“And demons don’t know that shit? If it’s trying to throw us off, of course it’s gonna pretend to be something else.”
“Or maybe it really was trying to communicate.”
“For what? To apologize?” Marco’s tone said clearly what he thought about that. He dealt another round. “Anyway, until we get some solid proof of what we’re dealing with here, the master don’t want to take chances.”
“That isn’t his call. It’s my life!”
“Yeah, well. You’re gonna have to take that up with him.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Fine, I will. Get him on the phone.”
“Can’t.”
“And why not?”
“He’s in a high-level meeting—”
“How convenient.”
“—and told me not to disturb him until morning.”
“Then get a note to him.”
“That would be disturbing.”
“Damn it, Marco!”
The phone rang. He glanced at it, sighed and put it back down again. “Look, it’s only for a little while—”
“Oh, please!” I couldn’t believe he was trying that. “Sell it to someone else. I know how these things work!”
He took his smelly cigar out of his mouth and rested it on the ashtray. “And how do they work?”
“I go along with this now, and I’ll have Mutt and Jeff here dogging my every step for the rest of my damn life!”
The taller vamp looked at the shorter one. “Guess that makes you Jeff.”
“I ain’t no Jeff. He was a crazy little bugger.”
“Well, Mutt was an idiot.”
“They were both idiots, and shut up,” Marco told them. He looked at me. “You know I don’t have any say over this. But you’re already up now, so it don’t matter anyway. And you can talk to the master in the morning.”
I just stood there for a moment, debating options. Because giving in, even for a few hours, wasn’t smart. Give a vamp an inch and he wouldn’t take a mile; he’d take the whole damn continent.
My stomach growled.
“Kung pao chicken,” Marco wheedled.
The bastard.
Mircea and I clearly needed to have a conversation, but I also needed to eat. And only one was currently available. And I was
“Sweet-and-sour pork—”
“Oh, shut up,” I told him.
He grinned.
I sighed. “You order egg rolls?”
Marco spread his hands. “Please.”
I decided that I’d bargain better on a full stomach, and swiped a beer. He dealt me in, and I grabbed a chair before looking at my cards hopefully. Nothing—not even a pair of twos.
Typical.
The phone rang.
“Can’t you turn that off?” one of the guards groused. He was an attractive blond I didn’t recognize. Probably one of the new guys.
“It’s my private line. Could be important,” Marco told him tersely.
“Your private line? How the hell—”
“I don’t know, but I’m getting it changed tomorrow. Just play your cards.”
“I would if I ever got any worth a damn,” the guy muttered.
They anted up. I folded. The phone rang.
“Damn it, Marco! I can’t play with that thing going off every five seconds!”
“Then don’t play,” Marco told him.
“Just tell the mage to go fuck himself—”
“What mage?” I asked, and everyone froze.
“Thank you,” Marco told the guy viciously.
The phone rang. Marco had left it on the table, and it had jittered its way over to me. So I picked it up. “Don’t,” he said.
I flipped it open and checked the readout. PRITKIN. I shot Marco a look and put the phone to my ear. “Hel —”
“Goddamnit, Marco, you’re supposed to be—” He cut off abruptly. “Cassie?”
“What is it?” I asked, feeling my heart rate speed up.
“There’s no emergency—not right now,” he said, apparently hearing the alarm in my voice. “But I need to see you. I’m coming up.”
“The hell you are,” Marco said, grabbing back the phone. “I already told you—”
“I want to see him,” I said, crossing my arms.
Marco looked at me, clearly frustrated. “You need to rest!”
“I’m playing cards and drinking beer. How is that not resting?”
“You were gonna go back to bed soon.”
“I slept all day!”
The doorbell rang.
Marco got to his feet, looking conflicted.
“What are you going to do—bar the door?” I asked, also standing up.
“I got orders,” he said defensively.
“Mircea told you to lock Pritkin out?”
“Just for tonight. He don’t want the mage here while you’re vulnerable.”
“He’s my bodyguard! When I’m vulnerable is when I need him!”
“Look, you really gotta—”
“Take that up with Mircea,” I finished for him.
“Yeah.”
“Fine. I will.” I pressed the menu button on Marco’s phone.
“Cassie—”
And there it was. I hit the button. The phone rang.
“Yes?” The familiar voice was smooth, with no sign of irritation. Not yet.
“You said you weren’t going to do this.”
There was a pause. “Cassandra.”
