was supposed to be in Baltimore.”
“Maybe she’s bringing more Shadow Spore?”
“We’ve already gotten our share. Chicago’s supposed to be under my jurisdiction only, so she’d better not have any bright ideas.” When the buzzer went off again, it sounded as angry as an electronic burst of noise possibly could. Steph looked up at the speaker as if she expected to find a living thing screaming down at her. “Get two of the others. New guys. Nobody she could have seen the last time she was here. Give them shotguns, put them in the back room downstairs and tell them to come out shooting if I give the signal.”
“Why would you want to shoot Tara?”
Steph wheeled around on the balls of feet, wrapped in thick wool socks that looked like they’d been pulled off the Wicked Witch of the East after Dorothy’s house fell on her. The top two sets of fangs emerged from beneath her gums as nearly every muscle in her body tensed. “I built up these Blood Parlors real good since we ran the Skinners out of town, and I won’t hand them over to some bitch just because she was Hope’s lackey during the uprising. We’re already kicking back a percentage to the cause, and if she thinks she’s getting more . . .” The buzzer sounded again, this time causing Steph’s eyes to pinch shut, and she spoke in a hissing snarl. “If she thinks any of that is gonna happen, then she’s in for a surprise.”
Astin gave her a crisp nod. “And I know exactly what surprise you have in mind.”
“You think?”
The moment Astin stepped back into the hall, all he needed to do was point at a few of the Nymar looking to see what was going to be done about the visitors waiting to be let inside. A few clean-shaven faces bearing the subtle hint of tendrils beneath the surface fell into step behind Astin and followed him down a set of narrow stairs at the back of the hall. By the time they’d descended to the first floor, Steph emerged from the security room and plastered a wide, garishly painted smile onto her face. The other doors along that hallway opened into rooms used by customers who paid for the experience of being fed upon by whatever Nymar vixen or pretty boy they’d pointed to in the catalog in the lobby.
“Everyone just go about your thing,” she said cheerily to the few faces that peeked out from the rooms. “Just so you know, there may be someone watching you other than me, so keep on your best behavior.”
That might have answered a few unspoken questions, but didn’t do much to alleviate the tension written across the other Nymar faces. Steph preferred to keep everyone guessing, along with her own employees, so she practically skipped past them down the hall and swept her hair back to make a grand entrance down the wider stairs at the front end of the building.
Standing outside the front of the bar, accompanied by four Nymar wearing their markings like war paint, Tara was obviously not concerned about drawing attention. She and her escorts all stared through the windows as if pooling their efforts to melt the glass using the power of their minds. Astin ushered the last of the customers behind the bar and through a doorway leading to the alley. When Steph looked at him, he nodded discreetly to assure her that backup was in place.
Rattling the knobs to unlock the doors just long enough for Astin to take a good position behind the bar, Steph finally pulled the door open and held it in place. “Wasn’t expecting you,” she said cheerfully. “Need a place to stay while you’re in Chicago or will you be moving along soon?”
“Tell me what you know about the Skinners that used to live here,” Tara said as she entered the bar. Once she cleared the doorway, her escort came in and fanned out to make sure they could watch every inch of the bar while keeping clear of the windows and stairs.
“They used to stay at a run-down shithole over on West Twenty-Fifth and Laramie,” Steph said. “I think it used to be some old Greek restaurant. Why?”
“What else?”
Crossing her arms petulantly, Steph snapped, “Whatever they didn’t take with them was either busted up or burnt when we put it to the match. What else do you need?”
“Where have they gone since?”
“Don’t you watch the news? Kansas City, Philly, Oklahoma, anywhere there’s been a big blow-up with the shapeshifters, you’ll find the Skinners. Christ, I’ve even seen Cole getting arrested on the national news! Not that anyone seems to care about that since the furries have taken over.” The belligerence in her features dissolved into a wistful smile. “Can’t really blame the cops or press for that one, though.”
Tara wore a simple overcoat wrapped around her narrow frame. Several layers of thermal shirts, flannel and wool, were revealed when she unbuttoned it. Sunlight might not have hurt Nymar in the slightest, but cold weather played havoc on a body with such limited circulation. “Did you ever see the unedited footage from those prison attacks?” she asked while settling into one of the recently vacated chairs.
“No,” Steph replied eagerly. “I just heard all the trouble that started when someone made the stupid decision to leave the prisoners where they were while other good, taxpaying folks were evacuated to shelters.”
Tara shifted in her seat while peeling off another few layers. In the light, her skin looked pale, yet clear. As more of that light was taken away or blocked, the tendrils beneath her flesh widened into markings that were only slightly fatter than those found on Nymar infected by the earlier model spore. “Official statements from the Department of Corrections say that nobody intended the prisoners to come to any harm. Angry families and human rights activists say otherwise. After the Full Bloods set those things loose, just about every prison in the country became a giant meat locker, and we all know that Half Breeds don’t have any qualms with taking down the easy prey first.”
“And there was footage?” Steph asked, as if being tempted by a sneak preview of the newest blockbuster a month before its release.
“You need to know where to go to find it, but yes. It’s not pretty.” One of her guards had made himself at home enough to step behind the bar, grab one of the bottles of imported beer, and set it down on the table in front of her. Once Tara had a chance to sip the dark ale, she smirked and added, “Well, some of it was a little pretty.”
“Nice. So what else do you expect me to tell you about the Skinners? If you know anything about them moving back into Chicago, then you should be the one telling me.” When she didn’t get a response to that, Steph narrowed her eyes and asked, “Are they moving back into Chicago?”
“I don’t think so. Paige and Cole have been quite busy, but they don’t seem to have any reason to come back.”
“Because they know they’d be risking their own necks in coming here,” Steph said firmly.
“No. Because they have no business in Chicago.”
“I torched their home when Cole was in it. Him and that bounty hunter couldn’t get away quick enough.”
“Was that before or after they came back to burn this establishment to the ground?” Steph was still seething when Tara looked around at the silently glowing television screens and said, “Just because you tried to duplicate the old place doesn’t mean anyone will forget what happened to it. The Skinners sent you a real good message before they left.”
“And you were here for that, weren’t you?” Steph growled as her multicolored nails dug into the edges of the table between her and the other Nymar. “Hope set that up and I played along. Only, I didn’t know I would lose my parlor along the way.”
“Neither did we. I probably knew less than you.”
Although none of the anger left Steph’s face, she tempered it for a moment so she could study the woman in front of her. “Something’s different about you. You’re not so . . . snarly.”
“That’s one way you could put it.”
“You’re still multiseeded?”
“There’s no way to do anything about that. It does take a little while for the two spore to settle into a rhythm.” Glancing at the second floor above her, Tara added, “I’m sure you can think of plenty of colorful comparisons to make in that regard. One of the reasons I came was to check on you, since you’re one of the few I know who haven’t accepted the Shadow Spore.”
“I accepted the first treatment,” Steph said.
“Why not the others?”
“Because I just wanted to experiment. This one turned out like those few years I thought I was only into chicks. Tastes great for a while, but I started yearning for the good ol’ meat and potatoes, you know?”
Tara sighed heavily enough for everyone in the bar as well as anyone standing outside to hear it. “Did Hope seriously leave you in charge of an entire city?”
