Firebug (15 page)

A guard escorted us into a small lounge. “Wait here,” he said, adjusting his tie. It must be hard to get a good tie when you have no neck. It was like his head sprouted directly from his shoulders.

“For how long?” I asked. “It's just that I have a dentist appointment after this. I can't be late.”

The second guard, who looked like a very thin, stretched-out version of the first guard, frowned at me. “It takes as long as it takes.”

I dropped the joking tone. “Let me make this very clear: I will wait only so long before I start lighting things on fire. I'll start with your underwear and move to the drapes. Got it?”

They both moved a step away, obviously uneasy, but stood their ground. I was scary, but I couldn't hold a candle to Venus.

After a surprisingly short time, we were led into a … ballroom? You'd think this building would stop surprising me. Small tables, all covered in white tablecloths and linen napkins. Chandeliers, vases of roses on every table, everyone in black tie. A string quartet played softly in the corner. The walls were all draped in thick red velvet. It was not unlike being inside a Goth music box.

There had to be at least a hundred people there. And they were all staring at us. I guess we were a trifle underdressed, except for Ezra. I gave a little wave. No one waved back. Venus, naturally, was seated at the middle of a long table in the front. Her table was raised up on a small dais, rather theatrically, I thought.

As I looked around the room, I noticed that there was no food on the plates. Hungry predators, even ones that don't like their meals in human packaging, might lack impulse control. If any of the creatures in this room didn't know who we were, we would appear to be walking, talking Happy Meals without the toy. Or maybe it was a two-for-one deal and we were the toys.

I approached the dais where Venus was waiting, her hand trailing though Owen's hair, a close-lipped smile on her face. Her side of the table was full of lesser minions, but the side facing the audience was empty. Wouldn't want the audience to miss out on seeing those pretty, bloodthirsty faces.

I stopped at the table and waited. It seemed silly to make demands—Venus knew what I wanted, just like I knew what she wanted. Silence stretched out because Venus was trying to not talk first. Me standing there with my arms crossed, patiently waiting, was not exactly giving her the image she wanted. But of course she couldn't break the silence either, so Owen had to speak.

“You know why you're here, I'm sure,” he said before snapping his fingers so the wine steward would refill his champagne flute. Sloppy, to be drinking like that. If I liked Owen, I might have explained to him how alcohol affects coordination and control and how bad it is for folks like us. Or I could watch him drink his way to destruction. Maybe I could bribe the steward into bringing him a bigger glass.

“Yes,” I said. “Though I'm not sure what this meeting will accomplish.”

“Compliance,” Venus said slowly, like she was savoring the word. “You need a reminder as to what it means.”

I cocked my head at her. “Oh?” Lock shifted on his feet slightly, his shoulder brushing mine in a silent
be careful here
. Ezra examined his nails, a careless expression on his face, but I knew better. He was taking in the room, cataloging exits and people. If I asked him right then what color tie the violinist was wearing, he'd have known.

“If you recall, I offered you a job earlier. You refused.”

The Duncan contract. What had Duncan done, exactly? Maybe he'd TPed her car or put plastic wrap on her toilet seat. Do vampires pee? Now was probably not the time to ask.

“I do recall,” I said. Then I stood there and smiled. There's nothing more irritating than someone who refuses to argue with you. I could tell this was aggravating her. A bit like yanking on a hungry lion's tail, but I never claimed to be wise. If I didn't act normal, if I toned down my usual insolence, then she'd know she had me.

Venus sat there primly, her back straight, her blue eyes on me and only me. “I've decided to do you a favor.”

Unlikely. Venus didn't do nice things. Ever. So if she was offering a little goodwill, I knew it was anything but. I didn't respond. I just kept staring at her until she continued.

“I've decided to offer you the job again.”

“I politely decline. Again.” The answer popped out before I had a chance to think about it. Not that I was going to say yes, anyway, but still.

Venus shook her head, playing up to her audience. “My naïve little firebug. I was hoping you wouldn't say that.” Some very large men moved up to flank us. I wasn't worried about them as much as I was worried about the shorter, skinny guy who came with them. If your hired tough is small, that means he makes up for it in other ways. In a street fight in the human world, that might mean he has a knife, or maybe he's a ninja or something. In my world it could mean, well, anything. Maybe he secretes a lethal poison or has chain saws for hands. You just couldn't know. Except about the chain saw thing. That one wasn't very probable.

“You've been growing too … comfortable lately,” Venus continued, running one finger down the side of her empty champagne flute. “And you're beginning to set a bad example.” She looked out at all the people sitting quietly at the tables. The quartet kept playing, but the dulcet tones did nothing to soothe the tense atmosphere. They just didn't go together. It was like harp music at a NASCAR race. “After all, monkey see, monkey do.” Some of the diners began to fidget.

We were going to be made into examples. Yay. I reached out and took Lock and Ezra's hands. It would make us look weak, but at this point I didn't think it mattered. The toughs kept us in place as we watched a man in a tux pull back one of the red curtains to reveal what looked like a transformer box. He opened it and hit a button. There was a loud grating noise and the floor started to move. People jumped up from their tables, scattering place settings and wine glasses everywhere. They flocked to the edges of the room, where the floor actually managed to stay in the same spot. It was only the middle that was sliding back, opening up to reveal an Olympic-size swimming pool that was—thankfully?—empty. I've never seen a pool so deep. It had to be twenty feet down at least. We scrambled up onto Venus's dais, our burly handlers right behind us. I watched as table after table crashed down into the pool. creating a floor of broken wood and shattered glass. That was Venus all over. She enjoyed creating a spectacle.

The small tough who'd climbed up next to us on the raised dais ran his delicate hands alongside my body, never touching. It didn't hurt. It was just weird. He did the same to Lock and Ezra. When he was done, he indicated points on each of us quickly, and his large companions proceeded to rip our wards off us with absolute precision. Interesting. So he
was
deadly to us, just not in the way I imagined. Once we were naked of protection, he pointed at the ladder. “You can either climb down that or we can throw you in.” He said it like he was a bored flight attendant offering us pretzels or peanuts.

I picked the ladder. We made it down the rungs in silence. Once I reached the ground, the sound of broken glass and wood met me with every footstep, and I was grateful for my boots. There were a lot of nails down there, too and I didn't fancy getting a tetanus shot if I survived whatever Venus had in mind. I looked up and saw the faces of the diners, including Venus, peering over the edge of the pool.

“I feel,” Lock said, leaning close to me, “that this could have gone better.”

“I feel,” Ezra said, smoothing his suit again, “that I look like James Bond. Tell me I'm not killing it in this suit.” His smile was strained as he turned to us. Though he was obviously as terrified as we were, he was still trying to make us feel better.

“Well, you're certainly killing me,” Lock said.

I kept my mouth shut, watching as two people came down the ladder at the other end of the pool. One, I could see quite clearly, was Owen. Even if I couldn't tell him by his clothes, his cocky walk would have given him away.

The other person, a younger guy of about medium build, was new to me. Faces continued to peer over the edge at us as the crowd grew. Venus looked incredibly smug. There were three of us and two of them. She should have been concerned, but she wasn't. Which meant we were in for a nasty surprise.

Owen was bad enough, but at least I knew what he was capable of—he was a known factor. This new person at the end of the pool was not. Venus wouldn't have thrown the new guy in here if she didn't have a damn good reason. But what was that reason? Was it to punish me, or him?

“Who's with Owen?” Lock whispered.

“No clue.”

“Great.”

That was the other thing I was worried about. I'd dragged the boys into this mess. Venus would probably kill us all, but there was a small chance that she might let me live. Break every bone in my body several times, yeah, but that slight chance existed. Ezra and Lock were, at least to Venus, expendable. Replacing a firebug? Not easy. Hiring new bartenders? Not really a problem.

My thoughts were interrupted by what can only be described as a fireball the size of a pony. My friends and I dove to our respective sides, making it out of the way before we got singed, but we landed in sharp, jagged rubble. At least Lock was wearing a leather jacket. Apparently it wasn't as hard as I thought to find new firebugs, because Venus obviously had. Big and flashy, oddly enough, was not Owen's style. When he threw flame, it was tightly controlled, small, and superhot. Despite all his other faults, Owen was a professional. He knew how to pace himself, something this newbie obviously hadn't learned yet. Though with that kind of power, he probably wasn't worried too much about finesse.

“What the hell was that?” Ezra yipped. “Can you do that? I've never seen you do that!”

It had been impressive. I was hoping that the new kid was all flash, but Venus had been too confident for that. No, he was just that powerful. Great.

I could only cross my fingers and wish that that he didn't know how to pace himself and his body would start pulling from essentials—the energy usually used to run automatic systems like the heart, lungs, and so on.

The fact that Venus had found a prospective replacement for me changed the game. Of course she'd rather have three firebugs over two, but then again, replacing me with a lap dog might be enough for her. Doing so before he was fully trained, though, would be like trading a Jedi for a young Padawan. Darth Venus might not enjoy my lip, but at least I hit what what I was aiming for.

After picking myself up from where I'd fallen, I threw a few short bursts of flame, more to keep our opponents busy than anything else. What I needed was a precious second to think. If the Coterie had been training this kid, it hadn't been for very long. People gossip, and even if it had been kept under wraps, the secret would probably have leaked. I was reluctant to hurt anyone who didn't deserve it, and who knew why the kid was in the pool with me. Maybe he wanted to join the Coterie and we were looking at his initiation. Possibly he was like us—forced. Owen I would happily roast over a spit with an apple in his mouth while coating him in a glaze every thirty minutes, but the kid was a different story.

He threw another fireball, this time the size of a Volkswagen bus. Hard to dodge that. I hit the ground again, slicing my hand on a piece of broken glass. Lock also tried to move to the side but didn't quite make it, though his leather jacket took the brunt of the assault. Smart wardrobe choice. Note to self: Wear more leather. Bikers might be on to something.

Ezra appeared to be snapping open a small collapsible crossbow. How had he hidden that in his tailored suit?

I couldn't play dodge-the-fireball forever. The kid would probably get tired soon, but that left Owen. And if I avoided Owen, then Venus would send someone—or something—else in, because I needed to be taught a lesson.

A wave of fire arched toward me, like something out of a flamethrower. I got hit this time—not bad, but there was definitely a smell of burnt hair about me. Lock wasn't as lucky. He was stopping, dropping, and rolling. It shouldn't have worked with a firebug flame, but it did. The kid either had no endurance or didn't care about seeing it through. He probably wasn't used to killing with flame, like I was. Lock writhed on the ground, his jacket smoking.

I watched a wisp of smoke dissipate, and my high and lofty morals went with it. You don't mess with my friends. Ever. Newbie was going to have to crawl out of this pool after I was done with him. I sent a volley of flaming orbs at Owen and the kid. I hit them both, but nothing happened of course. Venus may have had our wards removed, but she had no qualms about giving her side a leg up.

I watched a bolt fly from Ezra's crossbow, but the shot went too far to the side. Lock was kneeling now, digging through the wood, his leather sleeve pulled down over his hand so he didn't slice his fingers open on the glass.

“What are you doing?” I yelled.

“Looking for wood!”

“Um, try looking down?”

He shook his head. “It's treated with chemicals.”

I shot another volley, this one at debris around our opponents' feet. If I couldn't hurt them directly, I'd try another way. The debris wasn't warded.

Lock stood up, his hands holding shards of wood that apparently met his standards. As I watched from the corner of my eye, he did something to the shards and then started hurling them across the pool. They fell far short but Lock didn't seem bothered by this. He shouted, raising his arms as he did. There was a loud cracking sound, and the floor shuddered. A blur of brown and green shot toward the ceiling, moving almost too quickly for me to follow.

Trees. Lock was growing entire trees out of pieces of wood. Not seeds,
wood
. If we weren't fighting for our lives, I would have high-fived him. Even I didn't know he could do that. I bet Venus didn't know he could do that either. Giant trunks split the ground. They started to break through the ceiling before Lock stopped them with a slashing motion of his hand. Then they grew outward, widening until we'd have had to all join hands to circle them. Some kind of oak trees, but I didn't have time to figure out exactly what kind.