Deadtown

this?”

“Oh, sorry. It’s Victory Vaughn.”

“Vicky! Thank God. I was worried about you.” Relief colored his voice, but I couldn’t help thinking yeah, right, so worried that you just spent the night with some bimbo. I almost said it, too, but I bit my tongue, hard enough to taste blood.

Be businesslike, I thought. I still wanted to know what he’d found out from the witches. “I’m sorry I missed our meeting yesterday. I ran into some trouble and couldn’t get to a phone. But I —”

“Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

“Nothing serious. Just unavoidable.”

“So you’re okay.”

“Yes, I’m fine. I just wanted to know—”

“It is so great to hear your voice. I even called around the hospitals. Sounds like something my mother would do.” I could hear the smile in his voice, which brought up an image of the way his blue eyes twinkled. “But I was worried.”

I didn’t reply, because I was trying to figure out the best way to end this phone call both gracefully and fast.

“Listen, though,” he said, “I’ve got a few questions for you. Plus, I want to brief you on what the witches said, see if I’m missing anything. If you’ve got time, I’d love to see you. Can you meet me around ten, ten thirty?”

I wasn’t so sure I’d love to see him right now. But I might as well get it over with. “Can we make it earlier? I’m working dusk to dawn, so I need to get some sleep during the day.”

“Sure. What time is it now? Seven thirty. How about we meet at the precinct at quarter past eight?”

“Okay.” Hanging up, I felt a kind of sour pleasure in the thought that now he wouldn’t have time to go back to bed. Whatever he’d been doing there.

I WAS BACK AT THE DINER BEFORE BALDWIN FINISHED HIS meet-and-greet. Gordon stared straight ahead, the back of his chauffeur’s cap positively beaming with satisfaction.

Which wasn’t exactly the emotion I was feeling. Daniel had sounded genuinely glad to hear from me; he’d kept that sexy warmth in his voice throughout the call. But he didn’t live alone. No way that husky, sleepy voice that had answered the phone belonged to a housekeeper. Or his mom. I had to face facts. Daniel was married—so how come he didn’t wear a ring, damn it?—or else he lived with someone. Now that I thought about it, his wife or girlfriend or whoever she was couldn’t have been too pleased to overhear the conversation. It wasn’t anything he said so much as the way he said it: I’d love to see you, all warm and glowing and promising myriad pleasures. He probably got away with sounding like that because she was in the shower. Or in the kitchen, making his goddamn breakfast. What a jerk.

“You know something, Gordon?”

“What, madam?”

“That phone call wasn’t worth fifty bucks.”

“Few are, madam.”

Before Gordon and I could continue our philosophical discussion, the diner door opened. Cameras flashed like strobe lights as Lucado and Baldwin made their way through the crowd. Lucado barreled right through and got into the limo, collapsing on the leather seat like he’d just run a marathon. Baldwin, on the other hand, took his time, stopping to shake hands and give hearty thumps on the back. I didn’t see any babies in the crowd, but if there were any, I’m sure he kissed them.

Baldwin looked different in person than he had on TV. For one thing, he was shorter than I’d imagined him, but then he’d been sitting down during the interview. Funny how sitting down can make short people look tall. Also, as he ducked his head to get inside the limo, I could see that he dyed his hair—gray roots peeked out at the part. Once seated in the limo, Baldwin opened the window and waved to the crowd. Gordon steered the limo into traffic. And we were off.

Baldwin shut the window, then leaned back and closed his eyes. His skin was doughy and yellowish—another difference from his TV persona. Eyes still closed, he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face. The effect was like a magician waving a magic wand. He sat up, eyes bright and attentive, looking almost as good as he had in the studio. He turned to me, smiling a big white shiny politician’s smile.

“So you’re Victory Vaughn,” he said.

No need to contradict him on that one. I waited to see what else he had to say.

“I wish you had come inside and joined us. It would have been something for voters to see me having breakfast with the woman who saved that poor man from the monsters.”

For one wild moment, I thought he was being sarcastic, talking about that thug I’d mauled in panther form. Then I realized he meant the director who’d gotten himself attacked in Creature Comforts, the norm who’d made me famous—temporarily, I hoped. I went for a nonchalant eyebrow raise, hoping my momentary panic hadn’t shown in my face.

“I’m not here to help your campaign, Mr. Baldwin.”

“No, I suppose not. You’re involved with that werewolf lawyer, aren’t you?”

Involved. What a word, especially since I had no idea what kind of involvement I had with Kane at the moment. So I dodged the question—not that Baldwin deserved an answer, anyway. “His name is Alexander Kane.”

Lucado piped up at that. “Kane? That’s the name you said before, ain’t it? The guy you said couldn’t talk you into doing an interview.”

“Is that so?” Baldwin’s finger tapped on the armrest.

“Shut up, Frank,” I said.

Lucado opened his mouth, but he didn’t say anything. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose again, reminding me of his opinion of headstrong broads. Well, he’d just have to learn to put up with me. He’d have a hell of a lot more than a headache if the Destroyer visited and I wasn’t around.

I ignored Frank and turned back to Baldwin. “Are we going anywhere special? I have to be at Government Center in half an hour, so you need to drop me off near there. If you’ve got something to say to me, Mr. Baldwin, you’d better say it soon.”

“Direct. I like that.” Coming from the man who was proving to be the king of beating around the bush, this was almost funny.

“I don’t care whether you like me or not, Mr. Baldwin. I’m just about out of patience here. Either get to it or drop me off.”

“Frank tells me that you’re working for him.”

“I work for myself. But, yeah, I exterminated some Harpies, and now I’m his nighttime bodyguard.”

“Against what, Miss Vaughn?”

“Didn’t Frank tell you?” I certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell Baldwin that a Hellion was in town.

“He did. He said that you claim he’s being stalked by a special kind of demon, bigger and nastier than people’s personal demons. He said you called it the Destroyer.”

“That’s one of its names, yes.”

“One of its names? It has others?”

“We don’t speak those names, Mr. Baldwin. The Destroyer is not a Hellion you’d want to invoke by accident.” I should know.

“It’s a Hellion?”

“Yes.”

Baldwin looked a little annoyed that he was the one doing all the talking. Sorry, but I didn’t see any need to be a chat terbox around Kane’s political nemesis.

“Frank also told me he doesn’t know what it looks like.”

“That’s right,” Lucado said. “I’m not even convinced the damn thing exists.”

I shot him a glare to remind him that we’d already been down that road. “It exists, all right.” But it wouldn’t