Mad Lizard Mambo (20 page)

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Authors: Rhys Ford

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BOOK: Mad Lizard Mambo
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I pulled the Glock’s trigger once, and the
ainmhi dubh
heaved around the violence of the shot. I gave it another round, satisfied it was dead before I turned to face Ryder.

“I’m going to go check on Malone now,” I said through my anger. “Then you and I are going to talk. And you’re going to tell me everything you know about your damned sister and what connections she has to the unsidhe Courts.”

Thirteen

 

 

I LEFT
Malone in the mostly capable hands of Doctor Ed with a stern warning to keep the kid alive until morning. It wasn’t going to be that difficult of a task, even for a permanently soused gristle of a man and his one-eyed parrot. Malone’s wounds were mostly superficial, but a few were deep, needing stitches. After Bryan opened up Changa’s tiny infirmary, Ed slammed down a pot of coffee and got to work on our young not-Stalker.

That just left me with Ryder, an empty belly, and a desperate need for a shower.

I’d decided on the shower first, and when I emerged from the steamed-up coffin Bryan called a spacious bathroom, Ryder was coming through the door with boxes of hot food.

Being naked didn’t bother me. Much. Ryder’s eyes on me did. It was a complicated glance, part arousal but mostly resignation, maybe a hint of regret. I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. What I needed was clothes, food, and sleep.

The clothes were easy. A pair of loose fleece shorts and my worries about dangling in the wind were over, and an old T-shirt covered the taint of my father’s house scarring my back. I’d scrubbed the dog’s bite marks raw, paring off any blackened spots with a knife before I’d gone into the shower, but they needed covering or I’d end up sticking to the linens when I slept.

I stuck on a few plasters while Ryder put the food down on the dresser, and then the fight began.

At least it did in my mind. Ryder probably viewed it as a steady, thoughtful conversation where points were made and concessions were given. What I really wanted to do was punch him in the face, eat, and get some sleep.

Or fuck him.

Since that was out of the question, the first three options seemed like a healthier choice, but punching him would probably negate my contract and end up with me losing my license. So, even as good as it would feel, plowing my fist into Ryder’s nose was off the table. I also didn’t have the energy for a fight, so a thoughtful conversation was looking like the price of my meal, but I wasn’t ready to pay quite yet.

Ryder opened one of the boxes, then pulled out a thick paper-wrapped, greasy cheeseburger. He was not playing fair. Especially when he set a plate of nachos down on the box’s lid next to the burger, putting all of it down on the bed next to me with a handful of napkins.

Pride told me to ignore the offering, but my stomach had no shame, so I ate a cheese-and-jalapeño-laden chip.

“I saw Malone in the infirmary. He’s sleeping.” He lobbed the first volley, an innocuous start. “I didn’t get to talk much with the doctor. He seemed intent on gulping down a cup of coffee.”

“Best news I’ve heard all night.” I sniffed at the heat building up on my tongue from the pepper. “Coffee’s a good thing for Ed.”

The nachos and burger were joined by a bottle of black label whiskey, and Ryder asked, “Are you certain this Ed will take care of him? Wouldn’t he be better off here?”

“He’s going to need fluids, and Ed’s a doctor. When he’s sober,” I said through a mouthful of corn chip. “I paid him fifty to stay sober. And gave a twenty to Bryan to make sure Ed kept up his end of the bargain. Malone’s got to go the night without any problems, and then we can reassess in the morning.”

“He was lucky the
ainmhi dubh
didn’t kill him.” A small shudder worked through Ryder’s torso. “I’d never seen one up close until the river with you and the girls, but I’ve heard what they can do.”

“Lately every damned unsidhe in the county seems to think they’re a Hunt Master, so now we’ve got rogue packs everywhere. I keep hoping the dogs eat them before breaking their leash, but I don’t think that’s happening.”

“You don’t think these were rogue, do you?”

“No, those dogs were toying with him. With us. Right now, Malone should be a piece of bone with its marrow sucked out instead of sleeping in a private room with a needle stuck into his arm,” I explained. “They pulled away without feeding, and I brought one down, the largest one, but the other two didn’t react. They should have attacked me, if that was their pack leader. That wasn’t a rogue pack, Ryder. Someone had a hold on them, and a good hold. There was this whistling sound—”

“I heard that,” Ryder cut in. “I wasn’t sure if it was the wind or… something else. Is that how they’re normally controlled?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Shoving aside memories of shadows, stench, and pain, I replied, “Whenever I’ve been around a Hunt Master and their dogs, it’s been all verbal or hand gestures, but a whistle isn’t any different than a word. Ciarla knows Valin, but those dogs were too small to be his. Too weak.”

“You think he survived the river?”

“It would take a hell of a lot more than getting shot and tossed into the rapids for Valin to die.” I shook my head. “Her being here at the same time as the dogs can’t be a coincidence. You running into her… that’s by chance. She looked surprised and pissed off to see you.”

“She was… our conversation wasn’t… it was tight, angry underneath the pleasantries. I went looking for her after the attacks, but she’s gone. The hotel manager—Bryan—said she and the two elfin she came with left an hour after we talked.” He pushed a piece of tomato onto a chip but made no move to eat it. “She told me she was heading to Phoenix. At my grandmother’s request. One of the Houses there is in talks with the Sebac about trade.”

“Do you think that’s all they’re in talks for? Trading what?”

The whiskey was nice, a bite of fire on my gums, and I held the bottle up for Ryder, but he refused, holding up the bottle of fizzy water he’d been sipping on.

“You believed her?”

“This stop could be considered on the way to Phoenix, but no, I don’t believe her. Phoenix trades for spices and sometimes technology, but I can’t see it being anything important enough to require someone to meet in person.” Ryder sighed. The day was on his face, carving a weary expression on his handsome features. “She and Grandmother have always… fought for control. Ciarla sees herself as the next head of our Clan. My grandmother does… not.”

“Your grandmother is only going to give up control of that clan over her dead body,” I murmured. “Of course, that can be arranged. With your sister following close behind.”

I had problems with Ciarla. Big ones. And questions. Cocking my head, I studied the cheeseburger, wondering how I could shove some of it into my mouth without seeming like a stray dog finding its first meal in a week. As I unwrapped the burger, I found it cut into quarters, and I shot Ryder a brief, questioning glance.

“You cut your food. I’ve seen you eat,” he explained with a shrug. “Nothing that can’t be held in one hand, usually. Or chopsticks out of a container.”

“Huh. Yeah, guess you’re right.” I’d never thought about it much other than doing it to piss Dempsey off. He had clearly defined ways of eating, and it’d been my way of rebelling. Now it was just habit and an odd one Ryder noticed, but I was too hungry to care about it beyond getting the burger into my stomach. “Thanks.”

“You also eat the toppings off of your pizza and then eat the bread,” Ryder added. “You have very strange eating habits, Kai.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one whose family is trying to fuck him up,” I pointed out, then grimaced. “Okay, so your grandmother’s tried to fuck me up, and right now, I
know
Ciarla’s got something to do with the black dogs tonight. Tell me something. When you were concocting that human-carrying-elfin-babies idea, how did you get Ciarla’s… contribution? Were they already cooking and you got them out or… what?”

“Ciarla was already carrying, or so I was told. A couple of healers who said they were sympathetic to the fertility cause removed the eggs and transferred them to Shannon. One of those healers is missing, so I can’t say for certain how she and Valin… created the twins.” Ryder frowned. “I thought she’d gotten pregnant from one of her husbands, but….”

“Instead, she hooked up with Valin, either in bed or in a cup.” I picked up a piece of cheeseburger, opening the bun to see if there were pickles. There were none, and I murmured another quick thanks to Ryder, then took a bite and saw heaven. “God, this is good. Okay, so the Courts think you’re the one who arranged for the sidhe and unsidhe mix?”

“Some of them, yes. Ignorant of the situation, some make decisions based on… old loyalties. Some also damn Ciarla for lying with Valin because he is unsidhe.” He leaned back, pushing his box of food away. “What does it matter what race we are? Sidhe. Unsidhe. Human. From what I can see, we are all going to live well or die horribly… together. Very little separates us. Our magics are all different, our technologies are all different, but that can be shared. We can learn from one another instead of feeding on each other. Why can’t people see that?”

“Because people don’t look into their neighbor’s bowl to see if he’s got enough food,” I answered. “They look to see if that asshole has more. Greed is easy. Sharing’s hard. It’s why parents have to teach that instead of not hoarding shit. We’re all hardwired for self-preservation.”

“Except you.” I didn’t need a road map to point out the sarcasm in Ryder’s tone. “
That
seems to be something you are severely lacking.”

“Hey, keeping you alive is self-preservation. You die, I don’t get paid,” I pointed out. “Ciarla. What does she gain if she gets control of the Clan?”

“Besides money and power?” He shrugged. “Nothing much.”

“Yeah, but that power… it comes with a hell of a lot of responsibility.” I took another sip of whiskey, hissing at its sting. The cheeseburger lost its appeal, and I rubbed at my eyes. The edge of the bed was soft, a silken promise for how it would cradle my aching body if I simply lay back and let sleep take me. “Kind of like you’re crazy. You and that Court of yours.”

“Do you ever wonder why you and I… fit into one another, Kai?” Ryder chuckled at my scalding look. “Speaking as one crazy man to another.”

“I’m practical. You just think that makes me crazy because you don’t live out in the real world. This thing between us? So you make me hot. A lot of people do.” I saluted him with the small bottle. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to do something about it.”

“What is between us goes beyond physical, Kai. There are reasons why we are drawn to each other.” He picked at the nachos again, moving a chip around the congealing cheese. “You make my bones sing, but that isn’t why I want you. Have I ever felt this before? No. But I might again, but can I take that chance? The thing is, this between us… this is something special… too special to walk away from. A destiny of sorts. A promise of greater things. I can feel that. So can you.”

“No such thing as destiny, Your Lordship,” I grunted. “No one… no god… makes my life but me. I’ve been owned enough, thank you very much.”

“And I keep telling you, I do not want to own you.” He sighed. “Do you want to know why I didn’t use the gun on the
ainmhi dubh
?”

The whiskey turned sour in my mouth. “What does that have to do with… this push-pull we’ve got going?”

“Everything and nothing.” Ryder gave up poking at the chips, then moved the boxes to the dresser.

“You’re beating a dead horse here, Ryder.”

“I don’t think so. I think that horse is very much alive. You just refuse to see it breathing.” He smiled, a wan, thin, resigned press of his lips, then sat back down on the bed. “I tried to shoot the
ainmhi dubh.
I did. I’ve shot at things before. Everything in me knew it had to be done, so I held that gun up to its head—or as close as I was going to get—but my finger, it refused to press down on that trigger.

“And I knew you’d be angry, furious actually. As well as the very real possibility of the monster healing enough to grab at the people coming out of the bungalows,” Ryder explained. “But I couldn’t. I couldn’t kill it. It was dying, but I couldn’t bring myself to take its life, so I left it for you.”

“Because you knew I would do it.” There’d been no question about the dog for me. There never was when I stalked the packs running their murderous rampages through the prairies and farmlands outside of the city. “I’ve seen you shoot at black dogs before. Back in Pendle.”

“I’ve never purposely killed anything before.” He shook his head at my incredulous murmur. “Yes, I have fished, but not like… that. I
couldn’t
kill it.”

“And killing’s what I do.” I let the words go flat. If I thought back to our trip down Pendle or even when I handed Ryder the gun and ordered him to finish the dog off so I could help Malone, it wasn’t hard to remember the tremble in his hand when he gripped the gun’s stock. “And it’s what you can’t do. No shame in that.”

There wasn’t any shame in being unable to take a life… even as wicked of a life as a murderous
ainmhi dubh.
I wouldn’t expect Dalia to pull a trigger. What right did I have to expect Ryder to? The anger I’d nursed in my belly whispered away, its dank film burned off by the glare of understanding Ryder’s nature.

“You are more than just a killer, Kai. There is so much more than that to you.” Ryder inched closer, dipping the bed down, then crossed his legs, facing me. “You have led a short, brutal life, yet you have not become a shortsighted, brutal person. You inspire people’s loyalty. Even as irascible as you are, people
know
they can trust you. Your word means something, and you fight for people’s well-being even when you cloak it in pride and stubbornness.”

“That means shit to the elfin,” I pointed out softly. “I’m human, Ryder. I might have pointed ears and fangs, and I might even live thousands of years, but when it’s all said and done, I’m not elfin. And I don’t
want
to be. Not if it means being like your grandmother… or my father.”

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