“No. Different faces. Same tattoos.”
“Let me guess,” Paige said. “The first Nymar were tall, dressed in fancy clothes, and threw a lot of money around?”
Christov nodded. “They offered to buy in to my business, but threatened me when I wouldn’t sell.”
Paige didn’t have to say a word to Ned on the matter. That was a picture-perfect description of the Nymar that had resided in St. Louis prior to her and Rico’s infamous “training exercise.”
“These new ones,” Christov grunted as he settled back into his chair and rolled behind his desk. “They’re filthy. They reek of cheap beer and act like punks off the street. At least those other ones bathed. These are crazy. They sniff around my new girls, waiting for them to leave. Jerry, the leader, he even followed me home and offered to buy one of them from me! Every time I tell one of them to go to hell, they all get bolder. Just when I think I’m rid of them,” he added while waving at the monitor displaying the frozen image of what Peter left behind, “they charge my club like a pack of wolves.”
Paige pulled up another picture from her phone and held it up. “If that’s Peter’s Before picture, take a look at the After one.”
Christov’s eyes widened at the sight of the dead Nymar lying on the floor of Rasa Hill with the petrified tentacles emerging from his chest. Even in the darkened room it was obvious he’d gotten a whole lot paler. “I’ve heard someone mention Pestilence, but I don’t know who.”
“Could you point him out to us?” Ned asked.
“I don’t know. It’s…a bunch of people. Just random customers at the bar, they babble about crazy things including this Pestilence.” Waving a hand to his guards, Christov added, “They know the voice I mean!”
“It’s like folks whisper all this stuff as they wander around,” Blake said. “Then they just start talking normal again.”
Mikey listened to all of this, but seemed ready to jump out of his shoes. Focusing on him, Paige said, “You’ve heard this too.”
The bouncer rubbed his hand over a layer of hair thin enough to be a single coat of paint on his scalp as Christov muttered to himself in another language. Mikey was about to say something, but stopped as the faint scent of lavender drifted into the room. The brunette who appeared in the office doorway was several inches taller than Paige, had straight black hair that formed a single wave down to the middle of her back, and a perfectly upturned nose. She smiled at Christov and his men while saying, “I believe I can take it from here.”
“Well now,” Paige said. “You’re a long way from Wisconsin. What was your name? Trinity?”
“Tristan,” the brunette corrected. “Who’s your new friend?”
Even with one eye damaged beyond repair and the other one not quite what it used to be, Ned could still enjoy the sight of the statuesque nymph. He introduced himself and was promptly led out of the office by her. When Paige went to follow them, the men in the office seemed more than happy to be rid of them both.
Tristan moved with natural grace. Although she wore a plain white tank top and not-too-tight jeans, she still managed to be a work of art. Falling into step between Paige and Ned, she draped her arms across their shoulders and moved with them like a shared thought. Her hair smelled of fresh, airy mornings that only happened in coffee commercials. “Christov is just protecting his interests. Come back tonight and he won’t be so snippy.”
“Paige never told me she had such interesting acquaintances,” Ned said.
“Prophet was watching Tristan at a club in Wisconsin,” Paige replied, “and my partner got to know her in a more professional manner.”
“How is Cole?” Tristan asked.
“Locked up.”
“Well he couldn’t control himself very well the last time we met, but he had the stench of Nymar venom on him. I heard you mention Pestilence. When you come back tonight, I’ll be able to help you with that.”
“How about you help us with it now?” Paige asked.
Tristan smiled and shook her head in a way that was decisive without being arrogant or condescending. “There’s a regular you’ll want to meet.”
“Is he the old man we’ve heard about?” Ned asked.
“He gets here a few hours before closing, so if you come back around midnight or one, I should be able to introduce you. Don’t think too hard about it. Just come back then and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
“We’re here now,” Ned said. “Why not just tell us what you can?”
“Because if I mention too much, you’ll be thinking about it when you leave. You may not try to think about it, but the names and information will be rattling around in your heads and it’ll all be used against you when you return.” Having taken them past the window looking out at the main room, Tristan grabbed the handle of the door that opened near the largest stage. “You did a favor for me that has paid off in more ways than you could know, Paige. I owe you. I assume you’re here about the Nymar. They are a nuisance, but they’re not the real threat and they’re not the ones who took my sisters. Come back tonight and I’ll show you the man you’re after,” she said with a smirk that was equal parts naughty and nice. “We can mask you from the Mind Singer, but only if you’re here. You’ll need to prepare to fight a murderer. Bring whatever weapons you need. I promise nobody will stop you at the door. Just remember there will be customers here as well. I can’t warn them away without making our mutual friend suspicious.”
Before she knew it, Paige had another escort on her way to the front door. Kate was dressed in green shorts and a matching top that made her red hair look ridiculously attractive. She started to wave at the Skinners, but backed off when she saw the quick shake of Tristan’s head.
“You’ve got to give us something,” Paige insisted. “How are we supposed to prepare if we don’t know what we’re up against?”
Arriving at a decision by the time she arrived at the main entrance, Tristan said, “The Mind Singer may be able to read anyone’s thoughts if they’re not properly guarded. If I say anything more, you could be at risk of allowing a trap to be set.”
“Didn’t you see what happened to the Nymar who attacked one of your girls in the back room?” Paige asked. “This place isn’t as safe as you think it is.”
Tristan had only been leading the two of them by entwining her arms in theirs as if the trio was simply walking down the Yellow Brick Road. When she let them go, the Skinners still didn’t drift too far from her side. Reluctantly, she nodded.
“You may be infected with the same thing that’s been killing Nymar,” Paige explained. “The one who attacked Shae was infected and now he’s dead. Other people are dead too, and this mud crap is showing up all over the country.”
“My kind cannot be sick,” Tristan said. “It’s just impossible.”
“Then they’re the lucky ones. There’s a whole lot of people out there who don’t have it so good.”
“This infection has been around for a long time, but never amounted to anything until recently.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Smiling as if she was gently breaking bad news to a child, Tristan said, “Humans are always infected with something. There are plagues, poisons, diseases, and any number of things that come from any number of places. For every one that’s fatal, there are hundreds that you don’t even know about. This particular affliction first struck your kind in other parts of the world a very long time ago. Now, something has caused it to blossom into something worse. Some call it the Mud Flu, while one man has named it Pestilence.”
“Now I really want to meet this old bastard,” Paige snarled.
“Come back tonight and you will.” With that, Tristan turned her gorgeous back to them and headed for the bar.
Paige looked over there but couldn’t see anyone else apart from the tender. The guy tossed them a friendly wave and continued unpacking a box of bottles and placing them upon the shelf behind him. Since the club seemed to have dried up for the time being, she and Ned walked out. Both of them climbed into the SUV, but Paige made a call before driving away.
“Hey,” Prophet said once the connection had been made. “I just talked to Stanley, and your boys should be out by tonight. It’s taking a little extra pull thanks to the big guy’s record, but—”
“That’s not why I’m calling. Have you still been chasing down those nymphs working at purple A-frames?”
“Yeah.”
