“Hello,” Sinclair said. “I am King Sinclair, and this is Queen Elizabeth.”
The vampire, who had been huddled by the fireplace, turned to face us. “I know who you both are.”
Tina took one look, shrieked, “Clara the Fiend!” and launched herself at the smaller, smellier vampire.
Chapter 30
Which was unbelievably startling, to say the least. Before I could move, or think, or react in any way, Sinclair's hand shot out almost faster than I could track, and he caught Tina by the back of her sweater. He held her in midair, her short legs kicking back and forth.
Clara the Fiend had backed into the nearest corner and was pressing herself into it as if she could shove herself through the wall and disappear. Given Tina's sudden viciousness, I could hardly blame her. “Please, I came alone! Please, I just want to talk!”
“Eric, put me down.” Tina was practically spitting. And she'd used his first name... oooh, he was in trouble now. “Put me down right now so I can – and you! You get out of my master's house, you wretch! You pathetic creeping thing, you disgust us all, and you insult their majesties with your very presence! How dare you come to their home! Get out, before I kill you!”
“Tina, it's okay – ” Jessica started.
“Oh, Jesus.” Nick had his gun out and was standing in front of Jessica. The gun barrel kept wavering between Clara and Tina.
I couldn't blame him. I'd never seen Tina so out-?of-?control furious. I mean, I was scared of her, and I knew that under ninety-?nine-?point-?nine percent of the circumstances, she not only wouldn't hurt me, she'd give her life to save me. Even Sinclair, much bigger and stronger, had to hang on to her with both hands. “Jesus, Jesus, these are the guys that clocked me in the nose the other day. These are the Fiends?”
“They are,” Sinclair replied, turning pale at the reference to God's son. “Tina, calm yourself. She appears to have come in peace.”
“And she'll leave in pieces!”
“Good one,” Jessica piped up from behind Nick, “if a bit cliched.”
“Out, out now, you vile bitch! You get out of our house!”
“Holy shit,” Jessica muttered. “I have no idea which one to be more scared of.”
“Makes two of us,” I whispered back. Maybe somebody should slap her? It always worked in the movies. And after you clocked them, they always said, “Thanks, I needed that.”
I didn't really see Tina saying anything of the sort, so I reached up – Sinclair had hoisted Tina pretty high – and grabbed a flailing fist. “Tina, relax. If Clara tries anything, you can kill her all over the place.”
The mad frenetic kicking stopped. “You swear it? Swear it on your crown,” she ordered, then instantly changed her mind. “No: swear it on the king.”
“I swear on my husband's testicles that if Clara tries even one sneaky thing, you can play soccer with her head.”
Tina abruptly stopped struggling. Sinclair, just as abruptly, set her down. He didn't seem particularly concerned for his genitals, despite my promise. Maybe he thought this would all end up okay. I sure as hell didn't know that for sure.
Chapter 31
“All right,” he said to the huddled, smelly vampire. (Nick was right: she reeked.) “Suppose you tell us why you're here, Clara.”
“That's not my name,” she said. “My name is Stephanie Connor. Thank you for seeing me, dread king.”
I heard a commotion and turned to see Nick trying to haul a very reluctant Jessica out of the room. She kept yanking her hand out of his and hissing at him to hush up, she wanted to hear.
“Detective Berry, perhaps you could escort Jessica somewhere safer?” Sinclair asked, soooo politely, so I knew he was really sticking the knife in. “Anywhere outside of Ramsey County would be preferable.”
“Dread king, may I – ?”
“Nick, let me go.”
“It's a little chaotic right now,” I told Cl – uh, Stephanie. “Give us a minute.” I turned to Jess. “You know I'll tell you all about it later. Why don't you am-?scray for now?”
Giving me an “I'll deal with you later” glare, Jessica allowed herself to be herded out. Nick shot me a look, too, one I found startling: pure gratitude.
Tina was panting and patting her hair back into place. Thank goodness she'd worn a ponytail. I hated to think of the masses of blond hair flying all over the place. “Would you,” she managed through gritted teeth, “like a refreshment?”
Cl – uh, Stephanie looked shocked, like it was a trap. The trap of the Coca-?Cola products. Ah, I'd fallen into that sweet, sweet trap a time or two myself. “Uh, no. No thank you, ma'am.”
“My name is Tina.” Still forcing the words out through teeth ground so tightly, I could hear them rasping against each other. “I am the adjutant to their majesties.”
Adj-?u-?what? Was that, like, a super secretary or something? I was pretty sure I'd never heard that word out loud before. Maybe I'd read it, but it was spelled completely differently. I made a mental note to ask about it later. Sinclair would know. He knew pretty much everything.
“Why don't you come out of the corner,” I said, crossing the room and offering my hand, “and have a seat? Oh, and unless this is a trap, thanks for coming out to see us all peacefully and stuff.”
Sinclair had stiffened when I'd moved toward Stephanie, but relaxed when all she did was meekly follow me and look down at one of the couches. “I'm... dirty. I'll stand, if that won't, um, offend.” Another nervous glance at Tina, who was examining the rips in her sweater. I tried, and failed, not to raise my eyebrows: she'd been struggling so hard to get away from Sinclair she'd torn the seams out from under both arms. And wool was tough. Cripes.
“No, please, take a seat. A little dirt won't kill anyone.” Oh, shit, I said kill. Reminding her of what the Fiends had tried to do to us. “Um, I mean hurt anyone.” Oh, shit! “Um, just sit the hell down, okay?”
She sat on the far, far edge, looking like she wanted to leap away at any second. And I could see why she smelled – her clothes were filthy, and the mingled odor of dirt, dog poop, and blood came off her.
I wondered where they were sleeping during the day. They had no money or resources unless they killed or robbed or both.
In the past, when a vampire came back to him- or herself, they could go to the library in Minneapolis and find out who they were, if they owned property, if they still had a bank account... like that. And Marjorie, the dead betrayer, would give them a hand. It occurred to me that we needed a new system in place... like two months ago. Because right now, a vampire who wasn't an out of control newborn had few options. Just feed and hide, feed and hide.
While you live in luxury on Summit Avenue.
I shoved that thought away, hard.
“Now,” Sinclair was saying, “what brings you to us, Ms. Connor?”
She picked at the knees of her torn, stained jeans. “I, uh, thought maybe we could talk.” She had a mild southern accent – Virginia, maybe? Missouri? Not a drawl, but almost. Of course, anyone who sounded like they weren't from the set of Fargo or Drop Dead Gorgeous sounded southern or eastern to me. “About our, um, problem.”
“Do you represent the interest of your companions, or only your own?”
She blinked at that one, then seemed to decode it in her mind. “Oh. Um, I'm here by myself. I mean, the others don't know I've come.”
I listened hard for the sounds of ambush, but could only hear the usual household noise. Then I yowled as
