Mercy Blade (11 page)

“And the hit Leo asked me to make?”

“You may rest assured that he will not ask such a thing of you again.” Bruiser met my gaze and gave a small smile. “There are others who will assist him in such endeavors.”

Others. He meant
assassins
. Was Bruiser talking about himself?
Once, not long ago, he had suggested that he took care of that kind of problem for Leo.

“Let’s turn our attention to security concerns for the party,” Bruiser said.

There were always vamp parties. They lived for them. Well, parties, sex, and blood. And conspiracy. And power plays. “Fine. It’s what I get paid for.”

“The two were-cat envoys have been in the city for two weeks now, living in the Soniat Hotel, engaged in clandestine discussions with Leo and the Vampire Council.”

“Two weeks,” I said softly. The vamps knew Rick by sight; the were-cats would not. Rick was a handsome guy and would fit in anywhere undercover. Certainty settled in the pit of my stomach. It all fit.

“The worldwide announcement was well handled by the were-cats. It was a wise move, getting the Mithrans on their side, from the beginning. There will be parties on the same night at every major Mithran holding in the U.S., the most prestigious in New York City, to be attended by the New York Council of Mithrans and Raymond Micheika himself. Louisiana’s party will be the second largest in the nation,” Bruiser said, “the
official
meet and greet between the were-cat envoys and the Louisiana Mithrans, and will take place here, in our ballroom.”

“And the wolves?”

“Are not invited.” He hesitated. I swiveled my head to him, brows raised. “The wolves and the cats do not treat together. They are mutual enemies, just as in the wild.”

“Okeydokey. And what else. You never have just
one
bad thing to tell me.”

“The press will be present,” Bruiser said, letting a resigned breath out.

My pulse shot up. “The
press
?” I said. If nothing else proved to me that Leo was still crazy, this did.

Bruiser ignored my tone. “All of the networks will be outside and can be handled by NOPD, but we will have local cable inside. They have agreed to three cameras and camera-men, two reporters—one for color and one for interviews—one producer, and a makeup specialist. We have limited them to three grips, for a total of ten.”

“You are out of your mind,” I said. Bruiser raised his brows in that supercilious, infuriating manner he had to have learned from Leo. Or maybe from his Lady Mother. “If you let the press in here, and all hell breaks loose, Leo will be crucified. And you can’t tell me that weres and vamps are best buddies and so there’s no chance for problems.”

“Crucified?” Laugh lines creased the corners of his eyes.

“This is monumental stupidity. The
press
?” I hissed the word.

“The press. I suggest that you acclimate to the concept. Mithrans the world over are now using the press for information dissemination and propaganda. So are the weres. What is it you
youngsters
say?” he asked, his tone mildly mocking. “Oh, yes.” He snapped his fingers in a
got it
, manner. “Deal with it. Leo has decided to bring the press into his inner sanctum. And you are in charge of overseeing my efforts to keep him safe.”

I caught it. I understood. Bruiser had been in charge of Leo’s safety for over ninety years. Now Leo was asking me, the outsider, to look over his shoulder. A big bash, with the weres and the press and the potential for disaster, it would have been Bruiser’s chance to shine, and here I was, the new supernat du jour, looking over his shoulder. And then it hit me. If the were-poop did hit the fan, it would be
my
fault, not Bruiser’s. I was so freaking stupid. I should have figured all this out before now. I bet Bruiser himself had suggested I help out.

He swiveled his chair and indicated the papers on the table before us. “Security for the visiting envoy, his female assistant, and for the out-clan visitors who will be staying here at the council house during the negotiations.”

I had a lot of thinking to do but now was not the time. I took a slow breath to calm down, order my thoughts, and then took us to safer conversational ground. “Tell me about the envoys. What exactly is an assistant and what does she do?” An assistant would be the easier mark for an undercover operative. Ergo, the assistant was Rick’s target.

Bruiser shook his head. “I don’t know if she’s secretary, lover, spy, or slave. The African weres have seldom been to this continent and, according to Leo, the U.S. wolves operate differently from the were-cats. The big-cats have civilization. A well-refined society. Wolves have only pack.”

“Big-cat.” The word buzzed at the edges of my consciousness like a bee at a window. I caught myself, holding my reactions under firm control. “Are all weres predators?”

“So far as I know.”

“Hmmm. No were-bovines, were-gazelles, were-gerbils, or were-swans?”

Bruiser shook his head. I didn’t know what it might mean, but it had to mean something. After all, they were called the Cursed of Artemis, and that goddess had been a huntress herself.

You Get to Dress Me

Two hours later, I yawned and looked at the time. It was two a.m. Thursday, and I hadn’t slept since Wednesday morning about this time. “Sorry. I’m not used to vamp hours yet.”

“I’d have thought the new boyfriend would be keeping you up late.”

I leaned back in my chair. From anyone else those words might have sounded jealous. Bruiser’s voice, however, was mild, vaguely curious, faintly amused, as if he knew Rick and I hadn’t seen each other much lately. As if he knew Rick was undercover ... I squashed the desire to ask. “As per our discussion,” I stood, stretched, and headed for the door, “I’ll talk to my guys about providing security for the soiree. During the negotiations themselves, the safety measures in this conference room are sufficient. I want to see the sleeping quarters for the envoy and the assistant, the ballroom, the entrances and exits for the press, the greenroom, the kitchen, and anything else that grabs my fancy while we walk. Then I’m for home and sleep.”

Bruiser didn’t argue; he stood and led the way. The rooms for the were-guests were on the second floor, each with an exterior wall and windows: walls two feet thick, built of reinforced poured concrete, bulletproof glass in the windows. Inner walls were soundproofed. The intercom in each room rang directly to security, the kitchen, or housekeeping. New, secure phone lines were being installed, allowing the envoys to make unmonitored calls, as the walls’ iron rebar reinforcing made sat phones and cell phones unreliable. Both rooms would be swept for electronic monitoring before the guests’ arrival and daily thereafter.

The rooms were really two small suites, one decorated in brown, the other in green. Each suite had a sitting room with love seats, the ubiquitous fireplace, a small table and two chairs, a minuscule desk, and a minirefrigerator filled with drinks of every conceivable kind. The bedrooms were small, the space mostly taken up by queen-sized beds and one upholstered chair. The baths were elegant but not spacious, the closets comfortable but not walk-ins.

There was a sprinkler system in case of fire. An alarm rang if emergency doors were opened, and security cameras monitored them constantly. Static security cameras were set at the ends of all hallways. “Secure Internet for their computers?” I asked.

“Password protected and capable of encryption, if they wish,” Bruiser said. “We have a dedicated antenna dish on the roof, installed yesterday. We’ve tested the alarm system and the intercoms. There are two small rooms across the hall for their bodyguards.” He nodded to the rooms across the way.

“When is the last time the sprinkler system was tested?”

Bruiser’s face ran through a series of muted expressions as he looked up at the ceiling.

“Never, then,” I said. “Get the company who installed it in here to check it out. Make sure the workers are accompanied at all times. Also, electronic monitoring equipment was a lot easier to detect back in the old days. If you have someone who wants to see what’s happening in vamp HQ today, they’d use fiber optics, installing a system separate from any audio or electronic information monitoring. Systems could have been installed at any time, with any upgrade, or even yesterday when your dedicated dish was installed.”

“They might install multiple separate systems?” When I nodded, Bruiser asked, “And how would they go about that?”

I said, “It’s easy to install and hard to locate fiber optics. You just thread the cable conduit through a vent or alongside an existing cable. The conduits can be run quite a distance as long as there aren’t many bends. If there
are
too many bends, then surveillance would require junction boxes. The boxes themselves are problematic and much easier to detect than the actual cable, and would likely have to be installed during original construction or remodeling, like when this place was wired for cable or when satellite TV was installed.”

Bruiser looked at the flat screen television on the wall of the bedroom. “We had cable until yesterday.”

“And no one pulled the old cable out of the walls, because it’s too much trouble,” I said, making it a statement. Bruiser gave me a nod that said I was correct so I continued. “They just left it in place. Having cables in place for other things makes it difficult to discern what cable is good cable and what cable is spyware. However, fiber optics don’t provide audio monitoring, which is usually a lot more effective in terms of info gathering, but if someone managed to get fiber optics installed, then they probably got audio somewhere too.”

Bruiser was looking at me in unhappy surprise.

“What? It’s what I do, besides hunting and killing rogue vamps. Licensed security expert and PI, remember?”

“I do. And yet, knowing that, I have apparently been underusing your talents and skills. Something I intend to remedy immediately.”

There was a double entendre in there but I decided to pretend I hadn’t heard it. “Lucky me. But since I’m earning my retainer, walk me through the hallways to the ballroom and the conference rooms and anywhere else your guests might be. I’ll talk about the pros and cons of micro-sized audio transmission devices, long distance mikes, heat sensing, and Internet info capture.” Bruiser had thought his security measures adequate. I was sure he cursed under his breath, but I pretended not to notice.

 

Another hour later, I knew twenty times more about the council building than before. I’d seen the ballroom—holy fancy pants, Batman—and gone over the logistics for the press.

Most people thought that blood-servants were smarter and knew more than an average human, due to their increased lifespans and brains kept healthy with vamp blood feedings. But living longer meant more to keep up with, more to learn, all on an adult’s brain power—the learning centers already hardened into slow-changing patterns. Most blood-servants were behind the times, no matter how hard they tried to keep up. In terms of security measures, Bruiser was stuck somewhere in the last decade of the twentieth century and the business was changing fast.

“One final thing,” I said. “The fixed security cameras installed throughout the building are fine, as long as you map out blind spots and cover them too. If I wanted to disrupt this meeting for political reasons, or kill a were for religious or mental instability reasons, or just make trouble, I’d get the building specs and security specs from whomever installed the system, memorize them, and come in with the guests or the caterers at the party, mill around, and then put an incendiary device in or near the guests’ rooms and set it to go off when a door is opened, or a toilet is sat on or something. You got holes in the system, and if I wanted in, I’d get in.”

“You are a dangerous woman, Jane Yellowrock,” he said, his tone guarded and reserved. “Thank you for the advice and your time.”

“Thanks for the paycheck. See you at the big bash.” Spotting Wrassler, I waved down my escort and headed for the stairs.

“Wear the dress with the yellow jeweled collar, and whatever armaments you deem appropriate.” I looked over my shoulder and Bruiser’s eyes fell from my face to my boots and back up, lingering on my butt in the leathers. Okay. That was different. Warmth spun through me and my toes curled. Beast, who had been unusually silent all day, perked up finally. She liked Bruiser. She liked him a lot. His voice dropped to a low vibration that made my blood heat. “I promise I’ll let you keep your toys this time.”

“You paid for the dresses. I guess you get to dress me.” Which was not at all how I meant to say that. I opened my mouth to correct it but everything that came to mind only made things worse. I snapped my mouth closed
.
Bruiser laughed in that securely masculine way that made a girl’s heart race. Wrassler was looking back and forth between us in speculation. I turned tail and headed for the stairs before I said anything more stupid.

From behind me I heard Bruiser say, “I’ll be swinging by to pick you up in the limo. Nine o’clock.” The last time we had been in Leo’s limo we had ended up on the floor in a mad make-out session that had stopped way too late. And way too soon. I lifted my fingers to show I’d heard but I didn’t look back. No way. I was a one-man woman, and Rick was that man. Most of the time. When he was available. I remembered the cheek peck and the cavalier
adios
from earlier with a curious dissatisfaction.

 

By the time I got home, the itchy feeling left from being near Bruiser had blown off in the warm breeze created by riding Bitsa. In deference to my houseguest, I turned the bike off and walked her the last few feet to the side gate of the house.
The
house, not
my
house. It was, by definition and contract, temporary housing. I unlocked the gate, carefully locking it behind me to keep out potential robbers, rapists, or gangbangers looking to make street cred. The paperwork and cleanup after killing a human intruder would be a pain in the butt.