“That’s the spirit,” Rans said. “Which reminds me... are you hungry? You should be coming off of the initial need for frequent feedings by now, but it’s still been more than nine hours since Len, by my reckoning.”
Guthrie looked even unhappier than before. “A bit, but I can control it better than before.”
Rans nodded briskly. “Good. Now, prove it to me. I gather this place is also the island’s ferry terminal, so there should be people inside. Take someone aside and get them to follow you to a quiet corner somewhere, so you can feed from them. I’ll tag along as backup, just in case—but other than that, you’re on your own. Show me you’ve got this under control.”
“I still hate you,” Guthrie said in a flat tone.
“I know you do, mate.”
* * *
Albigard and I loitered in the terminal while the two vampires disappeared with an unlucky ferry passenger for a bit of hemoglobin takeout. I supposed it said something that Rans willingly left me alone in the Fae’s company, and without so much as a threat of ear-bobbing or bodily injury to Albigard before he left.
Considering how much of a stuck-up asshole Albigard could be, I wasn’t sure why fixing the pair’s strange relationship was so important to me—only that it was. I glanced up at his haughty profile, taking in the finely sculpted, elfin lines of his face. The bruise from Len’s fist was long healed, and his blond hair hung in silken waves over his shoulders despite the day of rough travel. His aura of Fae magic crackled against my skin like static electricity, jangling my nerves.
As though sensing my eyes on him, he looked down at me, his brows drawing together. The expression was as prickly as his magic, and yet he continued to go out of his way to help me whenever I contacted him. I wondered sometimes about his motivations, and about what he truly thought of my situation.
“What is it?” he snapped.
I ignored the churlish tone and shook my head. “Nothing, really. Mostly, I’m just wondering how fucked we are right now. I can’t help noticing that no one’s talking about the long term. It’s just a constant scramble to stay one step ahead of the crisis of the moment.”
He raised an arched brow, the lines of his face softening minutely. “You’ve managed to make enemies of both armies in a war, demonkin. Such a strategy doesn’t lend itself to a positive outcome, generally speaking.”
“I’d hardly call it a strategy,” I muttered.
He huffed out a quiet breath. “Indeed not. For what it’s worth, though, no one can see the future, and nothing remains static forever.”
My mouth twisted down. “I’m not sure whether I’m more shocked by the fact that you’re apparently trying to make me feel better, or by how bad you are at it.”
Albigard gave an elegant shrug of one shoulder. “You don’t need me for coddling. Not when you have the parasite for such things. Long-term strategy is useless if your enemies find and kill you while you’re distracted by planning it.”
“I guess,” I agreed. “Though I’d feel better if I thought long-term strategy was even an option for us at this point. Anyway, while I can’t say I’m thrilled that you broke Le—” I cut myself off. “That you broke my friend’s brain with your fairy tricks, I do appreciate you dropping everything to get us out of St. Louis.”
Albigard blinked at me. “I find your attempts to protect your pet human’s identity interesting, demonkin. I can assure you—after today, I have little interest in further contact with him.”
“Good,” I said. “Do me a favor and keep it that way.”
The Fae sniffed dismissively. “As for the rest, it’s a transaction, nothing more. You have information I desire. I have the means to transport you to this... place.” He looked around, releasing the word as though it tasted bad.
Right. Well, if the occasional snippet of information was all it took to keep him coming back when I needed him, that was fine with me.
“Fair enough,” I told him. “The demon Caspian is working with is called Myrial. She’s a succubus, and in addition to reaching across the aisle to the Fae, she also has a history of playing fast and loose with the treaty. She was the one who got my grandmother pregnant with a cambion, and she also tricked Guthrie into a demon-bond in the nineteen-fifties. I have reason to believe she tried to kill Rans recently, as well.”
“That is... moderately useful,” Albigard replied, showing no other reaction to the revelation.
“Guthrie can get you that bank account information he promised, as soon as they get back,” I finished. “Will you be coming with us onto the ship?”
A look of disgust flitted across his finely shaped features. “Certainly not. Gambling... debauchery... I can feel the vice rolling off that benighted vessel from here.” His green eyes fell heavily on me. “No doubt you’ll feel right at home once you’re on board.”
“Oooh... burn,” I said, miming a strike to the heart. “My fragile self-esteem may never recover, Tinkerbell. Though, you’ve admittedly got me wondering now what the hell kind of cruise Guthrie just dragged us to.”
“The rich douchebag kind,” Guthrie said, approaching from behind me with Rans at his side. “I did try to warn you earlier.”
“The wealthy do so enjoy their playtime,” Rans put in, his shoulder brushing mine as he stepped into the space beside me. “Leaving us so soon, Albigard? Whatever will we do without you?”
“How did the cut-rate Red Cross blood drive routine go?” I asked quickly, before the conversation could start going downhill.
“Smoothly,” Rans said. “I’m confident our friend here is past the worst of things.”
The flat look Guthrie gave him clearly conveyed his opinion of that assessment.
