Completely stepping past any hellos or how-are-yous, Prophet said, “Tell me you guys ain’t involved with this cop shooting business.”
“I could tell you that, but …”
“Aww, Jesus Christ. How bad is it?”
“It’s a setup. I can tell you the rest later. How about we meet in Denver?”
“Only if we go after those Nymar that Stanley’s been on my ass about.”
“You talked me into it,” Cole said. “What can you tell us about those guys?”
“I’ve got a whole damn file. They’re more of a gang than anything else. Maybe even like a crime family. No, that’s giving them too much credit. I’ll go with gang. Not just some street gang, but more like—”
“It’s so much easier when you just have some crazy dream and give us a warning,” Cole grumbled. “Remember that? I miss those days.”
Prophet’s tone shifted into something that allowed him to scowl across a digital phone line. “Funny thing about those dreams. I need to sleep in order for them to hit. Ever since you asked me to watch your back in some creepy-as-hell basement in Philadelphia so we could steal a prized possession from a bunch of armed and dangerous, lunatic monster hunters, my sleep schedule ain’t been too great. Oh, and finding out that the possession we were taking was the mutilated chunks of a werewolf, any dreams I might have had after that ain’t exactly the ones I want either.”
“Point taken. What did you mean before when you said ‘wait for
After a short pause, Prophet continued without the gruff tone in his voice. “Me and the Amriany.”
“You’re still following them?”
“Actually, they’re following me. From a real close distance.”
“They caught you, didn’t they?”
“Really? What might that be?”
“They want to recover some of that Lancroft crap, but they also caught wind of some Nymar taking their business overseas. One of them named Hope is traveling with a group that’s been putting together some sort of organization. They already got their communications set up. They’ve been collecting weapons. They got plenty of intelligence on Skinners and now they’re looking to take you out.”
“So if they’re getting so comfortable here, why would they want to leave the U.S.?” Cole asked.
“That’s what these Amriany want to find out. Drina, she’s the blonde, she thinks one of the Nymar groups that are definitely involved in this uprising will have a computer with some good intel on it or numbers on their phones they can use. I’ve been trying to steer them to Denver, but they got a line on a group down in Texas.”
“San Antonio?”
“Yeah,” Prophet said in a voice that made it easy for Cole to picture the surprised look on his face. “How’d you know about that?”
“Never mind. How’d the Amriany get out of Philly?”
“Drove, then flew. They got a real nice setup, Cole. Kind of puts you guys to shame. Not that it’s too hard to put a shit-box Chevy to shame, but I’m talking charter planes and the works. These Gypsies have some serious funding.”
“You might not want to let them hear you call them that. They’re a bit sensitive about the G word.”
“Believe me, I understand that kind of aggravation. I still need to check the African-American box on more official forms than I can count. My dad’s Jamaican and Mom’s from Cuba. How the hell does that make me African American? You’re rolling your eyes now, right?”
“Yeah, Prophet. Big-time.”
“I’ll see about getting us to Denver.”
“Tell them we’re planning on hitting them hard. The last thing those Nymar will be expecting is another team sneaking in while the fireworks are going. Even below that on the list would be a team of Amriany. As long as your new buddies are willing to cooperate and share what they find, we don’t have any problem with letting them in on this.”
“You’ve got the pull to guarantee that?” Prophet asked cautiously.
“There’s just me and Rico here, so yeah. I’ve got the pull.”
“What about Paige?”
“I’m sure she’ll find a way to get there.”
“You don’t sound thrilled about that.”
“Can you get to Denver or not?” Cole quickly asked. “Considering everything they’ve been saying about you guys, that shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“What have they been saying?”
“‘Bye.”
Cole looked at the phone as if Prophet might somehow be looking back at him. All he saw was a reflection of his face and a red message telling him his call had come to an end.
“You done out here?” Rico asked as he stepped into the hall.
The latest round of dance mixes had come to an end, which meant the dancers were starting to hustle backstage again. A few of the Dryads were among them. They stood out like finely cut crystal goblets scattered among a collection of free cups collected from fast-food movie tie-ins. Considering how attractive Pinups’ human dancers were, that was saying a lot. Elle whispered something to the ladies in her group, which kept the whole procession moving right past the Skinners.
“Yeah,” Cole said as he tucked his phone away. “I’m done.”
They tagged along with the trio of girls heading for the main stages, savoring the mixed scents of body sprays and female skin. All three were human, and drinking them in was like a welcome bit of familiar cooking. Hooray for the home team.
The procession stopped at a door that would have blended in perfectly with the black wall if not for the handle outlined in white tape. The girls opened it without having to look at what they were doing, and Cole stopped in his tracks when he saw Tristan in the main room. She leaned against a table in a pose that wasn’t quite the same as the one she struck when prowling for lap dances. Shifting her eyes toward the door at the back of the room, she looked straight past the three dancers and locked eyes with Cole.
Something was wrong.
His fingers curled in to brush against his palms. Whoever those guys at Tristan’s table were, they weren’t Nymar or shapeshifters. They sat away from the glare of lights without being coated in black stripes, so they weren’t carrying a Shadow Spore. Both of the men were dressed in simple, inexpensive clothes resembling the ensembles of every other paying customer in the place. One of them was in his late twenties or early thirties. He angrily said something to make Tristan look at him, while the older man followed her previous line of sight to the stage door. Even though Cole had pulled back enough to hide within the shadows filling the doorway, he knew he might have already been spotted.
Heavy steps sounded behind him, but Cole didn’t need to turn around. The rustle of Rico’s leather jacket was more than enough to give him away. Thanks to the cold weather, the leather had hardened into something closer to a shell than the smoother material of the Full Blood coat.
“Never thought I’d get sick of hangin’ out in strip bars,” Rico muttered. “Tristan out there?”
“She’s talking to someone. Doesn’t look like it’s for official dancer business either.”
Placing a hand on Cole’s shoulder to keep him in place, Rico leaned forward to get a look for himself. He almost immediately leaned back again and snarled, “Shit. Cops.”
“How can you tell?”
“Well, they ain’t Nymar. There’s two of them, and they ain’t buddies out to see some bare ass, because they ain’t grinnin’ from ear to ear with Tristan being so close. Look at the way they’re talkin’ to her. One’s asking questions and the other’s scanning the room. Keeps looking over here. Did you poke your nose out too far?”
“Maybe a little.”
“They’re cops. I’ve had enough of them sniffing around after me that I can damn near smell the doughnut frosting on their fingers.”
Cole shook his head and eased the door shut. There was a narrow slot filled with tinted plastic just wide
