This was a good-size room, obviously storage for the import shop, but lots of cardboard boxes and wooden crates made the place feel cramped. Dim lighting didn’t help. Ben and Cormac were looking around, marking the lay of the land, the exit marked by a red light across the room.
“Do you own this place?” I said, gesturing around. The stuff showed a clash of cultures—rolls of an American brand of toilet paper stacked on top of cardboard boxes labeled in Chinese holding who-knew-what, exotic paper lanterns resting on shelves that also held mundane cleaning supplies, with mops and brooms propped in the corner. “Is that why we’re meeting here?”
“I’m calling in favors,” she said. “I used to have a lot of contacts here. Turns out I still have a few. We’ll be safe. Now, tell me what happened.”
“Ben and I were attacked. Werewolves. I tried to call you after it happened, but you didn’t answer.”
“You appear to have handled them without any trouble,” she said. Her expression didn’t change—I was looking for a show of surprise, of fear. That I didn’t see any reaction didn’t mean anything. I realized I’d have felt better if she’d found a new protégé or human servant. Anastasia by herself wasn’t worried about protecting anyone.
“That, or we got lucky.” I glanced at Cormac, then looked away. Anastasia caught the gesture.
She considered a moment, then said, “We can assume that Roman knows you’re here now.”
“Does that change anything?”
“No. We’re still ahead of him. Let him think we’re stronger than we are.”
I looked around. “Even though it’s just the four of us?” The four of us were pretty badass, but still.
“No. There’s one more.” Her twitch of a smile chilled me. “Kitty, what I’d really like for you and your pack to do is stay on the streets and serve as a distraction. Roman knows you’re here—we can use that. It will give me more time to find the pearl.”
Next to me, Ben bristled. I stared. “Cannon fodder. That’s why you called me here, so you could throw me in Roman’s path while you get away.”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t think you were capable,” she said.
I huffed. “There’s a saying: you don’t have to run faster than the bear, you just have to run faster than the other guy.”
She crossed her arms and glared, her dark eyes shining. “If you want to help me—”
“I can’t help you if you send me away.”
Vampires didn’t breathe—they no longer needed oxygen to survive. So when Anastasia sighed, it was on purpose, and a mark of her frustration. “As much as I would like to end Roman’s existence, and will if I ever have the opportunity, the pearl is more important. Keeping it away from him is my priority.”
“A pearl?” Ben said. “This is all about a piece of jewelry?”
Anastasia surveyed and disregarded him with a glance, which made me want to get in her face even more. How dare she diss my guy. An older vampire, Anastasia wasn’t used to werewolves talking back. I’d seen her get pissed off, and I wondered how far I’d have to push her before she got pissed off at me. Wasn’t going to find out this time. I eased Wolf back and stayed civil. “Anastasia, I want to know what we’re fighting for here. Tell me about this pearl.”
“The Dragon’s Pearl,” she said. “It’s an artifact of great age and power.”
I wrinkled my nose. “What’s it do?”
Cormac, who’d been lurking and nigh unto invisible, stepped forward and said, “It’s a bottomless container. The stories say you put it in a jar full of rice, the jar will produce an endless amount of rice. Or gold. The artifact itself was said to be a gem or a pearl, carried by divine dragons. But more likely it was a charm created by a human magician, probably as an imperial gift or status symbol.” On second thought, it was Amelia who said all that, but Anastasia didn’t have to know that.
“How do you know that?” Anastasia asked. Her gaze was narrowed, suspicious.
“I’ve been around,” he said. “Picked up a few things.” There. That was Cormac talking.
“Yes,” she said, skeptical. “Clearly.”
“Was it made by dragons or magicians? Is that important?” I said.
“It was created by a magician,” Anastasia said. “There’s no such thing as dragons.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. I never knew anymore what was going to turn out to be real and what wasn’t. Being a werewolf tended to give one an open mind. Or made one totally confused. “So dragons aren’t real but this thing that could possibly grant someone untold riches is?”
“Roman doesn’t need the money, though I’m sure he’ll take it,” she said. “He’s going to use it to try and replicate a spell—a magical copy machine, if you like.”
I looked at Cormac. “Would that even work?”
“Don’t know,” he said, studying Anastasia with interest.
Anastasia’s tone was serious, her expression grave. Even more grave, rather. “Roman’s followers wear a talisman. A coin that marks them—to Roman, and to each other. There’s a binding spell attached to the coins.”
The walls suddenly felt very close, and the room suddenly got very hot. “A coin from ancient Rome?” I asked. “On a leather cord?”
“Yes,” she said, surprised, suspicious. Cormac and Ben were looking at me with startled expressions.
To think I’d wanted to write it off as coincidence.
I’d put the coin I took from the vampire in Kansas into my pocket because I’d wanted to show it to her, which turned out to be a pretty good call. I drew it out and offered it to her.
Her jaw tightened as she stared at it. “Where did you get this?” she said, with as much shock and emotion as she’d yet displayed.
“From a starving vampire in Dodge City.”
“Dodge City? Don’t tell me you found the vampire den that Wyatt Earp burned?”
“Oh my God, you know about that? Should I have called you first?”
“I wasn’t there, I only heard rumors.”
