She didn’t give me time to finish the sentence. Ripping off her apron, she flung it on the floor between us and turned to stalk out of the room. I sighed. On the plus side, she was probably on her way to warn the rest of her Nest that the Covenant was in town. On the negative, out of the city’s three dozen or so dragon princesses, she was the one I probably had the
This day was getting better and better, and it wasn’t even noon yet. Who knew what wonders were lurking on the other side of the lunch rush? Leaving Candy’s apron on the dressing room floor, I turned to follow her path out to the hall. It was past time to have a little chat with my boss.
Dave’s darks were on again, making it impossible to tell whether he was in the office while I was standing in the hall. I decided to take a chance on Candy’s information being accurate and strode into the blackness with my chin held high and my shoulders pushed back, like I was making my entrance to the stage before a competition tango. Always wow the people you’re up against with confidence, that’s the family motto. Well, that, and “always count your ammo before agreeing to a firefight.”
Walking into a dark office that might or might not contain a bogeyman definitely didn’t fall under the heading of “ten smartest things I have ever done.” It might be somewhere in the top thirty, but that’s because I had an abnormally interesting time as a teenager. It probably looked like stupid bravado, and it probably was, to a degree. That’s why I had a knife in either hand by the time I cleared the doorway, ready to fling them at the slightest provocation.
It was normally possible to take eight steps into Dave’s office without banging into anything. I stopped after six; far enough to make it clear that I wasn’t bluffing, but not far enough that I risked whacking my knee on his desk and ruining the effect.
“Dave? We need to talk.”
There was a brief pause before Dave’s voice hissed out of the black, sounding puzzled and a little excited. “Why, Verity Price, how very … very of you. Have you finally decided that the time is ripe to have a proper play date?”
“Turn off the darks, Dave. We need to talk.”
“So you say, so you say, but you came into my lair without demanding safe passage through the light. An interesting choice for a girl who says she doesn’t care for shadows.”
I yawned, not bothering to cover my mouth. “Blah, blah, blah, you’re very scary, oh, I’m trembling. I came in without telling you to turn off the darks because I wanted you to actually believe that I was serious when I said you needed to listen to me. We have a deal. Part of it involves me not hunting you.”
“And?” There was caution under the excitement now, as logic overrode his instincts.
I flung a knife into the darkness, aiming for a spot a foot to the left of where Dave’s head would normally be. I heard it hit the wall. “And if you insist on giving in to your nature and spooking me, I’m going to have to give in to my nature, and hunt you. Darks, Dave. Talk, Dave. Now, Dave.”
The darks clicked off and the lights clicked on, revealing the dour, gray-skinned form of my boss sitting behind his desk and sulking like a petulant child. “What could possibly be so important that you needed to come in here like that?”
“Candy went home.”
Dave hesitated, visibly trying to fit that statement into any sort of logical conversation. “So, what, you want her tables?”
“It was a personal emergency.”
“What sort of personal emergency could possibly make a dragon princess give up her tips for the second shift in a row? I expected her to come in here black and blue after her Nest-sisters kicked holy hell out of her for missing work.” Dragon princesses view the income of one as the income of all, and they tend to get a little bit cranky when that income is threatened.
Watching Dave’s expression, I said, “She had to go make sure the Nest was aware that there’s a representative from the Covenant currently resident in Manhattan.”
I’ll give Dave this much: he managed to school his face almost instantly into a neutral state. Sadly, “almost” wasn’t fast enough to keep me from seeing the way the skin around his mouth tightened. It was a subtle tell, but it was what I had to go on. “Is that so?” he asked. “That’s a pisser. We’d better make sure the rest of the staff knows. How’d you find out, Very? Has this guy been bothering you?”
“If we were on a bad cop show, this is where I’d point out that I never told you it was a guy, but since the Covenant’s field agents are ninety percent male, I’m going to let it pass,” I said, stepping forward until I could rest the heels of my hands against the desk. “Why didn’t you tell me he was in town, Dave?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Uh-huh. Let’s go again. Why didn’t you tell me he was in town, Dave?”
Scowling now, Dave crossed his arms. “Aren’t I your employer? Thus making me the man with the power to sack your pretty little ass if you go around accusing me of things?”
“Ignoring the part where I could double my income if I started teaching dance classes instead of working here, yes, you are,” I said, and smiled. “Aren’t I the one who could walk out into your bar and tell everybody you’ve been withholding information that could get them killed? I don’t think I’ll need to worry about you firing me after you’ve been slaughtered by the rest of your employees.”
There was a pause as Dave measured out my statement, trying to figure out whether I was bluffing. I let him take as much time as he needed. I might have been more inclined to hurry him if I
Finally, he settled back in his seat and gave me a wounded look. “How did you know?”
“About the Covenant, or about you having prior knowledge?”
“Both.”
“I know about the Covenant because I need a new pair of socks, which you, having been previously aware of their presence, will be kind enough to supply me with for free. I got caught in a lovely little rooftop snare last night. Not sure whether our boy was hunting Jersey devils, harpies, or just whatever happened to wander by, but he got himself a cryptozoologist for his trouble. He nearly got a bullet to the forehead to go with it. He’s already killed at least one ahool. I don’t know what else he may have done.”
“What stopped you from shooting him?” Dave asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Didn’t want to waste the ammo.” I kept smiling. “As for how I know you were previously aware, well. You’re a bogeyman who runs a strip club. If anybody would have heard it through the grapevine, it’s you. And you let Kitty go on tour with her boyfriend’s band.”
“Wanting my employees to succeed in their chosen fields of endeavor makes me the bad guy now?”
“Kitty’s one of the only girls you have who’s always willing to work the overnights, doesn’t complain about the skanky little uniforms, and puts up with you being a lech. You wouldn’t let her out of the building at the end of her shift if you didn’t have to. That means the only good reason for you to let her go on tour is getting her out of the line of fire. What do you know? What aren’t you telling me?”
Dave fixed me with an eye, giving me his best piercing glare. It was the sort of look bogeymen excel at, all supernatural menace and the promise of nasty things lurking in your closet. I met it with an even sweeter smile.
Dave knew when he was beat. He sagged, and said, “He got here about a week and a half ago. Boy’s been keeping his head down. I wouldn’t even know if he hadn’t flown through JFK.”
Raising my eyebrows, I asked, “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I have some friends in the TSA. Most of the agents spend their time looking for signs of human terrorism. These folks are looking for a different sort of terrorist—the sort of terrorist who starches his socks and keeps silver flasks full of holy water in his checked bags.” Dave shrugged, looking slightly smug. “They caught him coming in, passed me the info, I did some checking, and bingo, we’ve got us a tasty little piece of intelligence.”
“Well, that’s dandy and all, but when were you planning to bring me into your little circle of trust? Before or after he killed me for being a cryptid sympathizer?”
Holding up his hands, Dave said, “Hey, now, Verity, that’s not the deal, now, is it? I’m not informing for you. A man’s got to eat, and you work for cash on the barrel, not for gossip.” A smile wormed its way across his face.
