Moonshine: A Novel (35 page)

"An alley near Lafayette," Nicholas said, taunting her. "But we turned him good, Katerina. So if the pols haven't picked up any little suckers lately, maybe it's 'cause he's still alive."

Kathryn looked like she was going to choke. "You're not alive," she managed.

Nicholas hit her, blindingly quick and hard enough to knock her against the wall of the tunnel. Her mouth was bleeding and her cheek looked puffy. She started to cry.

"Then you're sleeping with a dead man,
puttana
."

I desperately wanted to stay behind and help her, but the specter of Aileen being tortured compelled my silence and pushed me forward. I'd rescued Rinaldo's other son. The mortal enemy of the one I now followed into his father's lair. What a mess. And if Giudo was really Judah, then who in hell was Troy's client?
Could
it just be a coincidence?

"How common a name is Giudo?" I asked Charlie, in a low whisper. "You know a bunch?"

He shook his head, eyes wide. "Only that one. And good thing, 'cause Nick can get a little
pazzo
about that kid."

I nearly hit him myself. That kid you helped him puncture like a pincushion? That kid who'd lost nearly all of his memories thanks to being turned so young? But then, hey, the same thing had happened to Charlie. We were all of us damaged, and I'd lost the knack of pinning blame.

At least now I knew: someone was playing Troy. The client had used that name deliberately, but it was a reference Troy couldn't possibly have known. So he was connected to the Turn Boys, but probably not as a member of the gang. Hell, for all I knew maybe Rinaldo himself had gotten wind of who had killed Judah and had taken the hit out on them himself.

"Well, that's going to make this family reunion a little awkward," I muttered.

Charlie looked back at me and then froze. "Uh . . . Nick," he called.

"What now,
idiota
?"

"I think there's something--"

Which is all he had time to get out before the Defenders came upon us like rats from the dark of the tunnel.

Shots echoed off the walls, ricocheting dangerously. Nicholas cursed. "Around me, Boys!" he yelled, as Daddy and Troy and half a dozen other men wielded their swords like extensions of their arms. I was lost in a moment of inappropriate admiration. Then I realized how they must have found us.

"You bloody scoundrels!" I shouted to Troy, as he grappled with a Turn Boy going for his neck. "I can't believe you followed me!"

"Giudo told us to," he said, gasping. "Listen, could this wait--"

I unsheathed Daddy's sword with one hand and hauled the unsuspecting vampire off of Troy with the other. The Turn Boy was strong and would have gotten away to do some damage, but I held the blade against his neck and pressed gently.

"So, you were saying?"

Troy stared at me, and wiped beaded sweat from his forehead. "Christ, Zephyr. Giudo found me when we were about to leave, and said to follow you. He said you knew the Turn Boys, and could get them off guard."

"Giudo" knew that about me? This was getting a little frightening. "Is he with you?"

Troy shook his head. "He came as far as the tunnel, but someone he knew was there. You were getting away, so I didn't ask."

I cursed and tossed the vampire on the ground at his feet. "Carry on."

Troy smiled suddenly and saluted me. So he was stuffy and pompous and utterly backward and generally impossible to take in large doses. But sometimes I still sort of liked him. Someone hit me hard in the back between my shoulder blades. I coughed and spun around, holding my scabbard before me like a shield. It was another of the Turn Boys, teeth bared and snarling. He was one of the biggest of the group--nearly an inch taller than me, and strong. He hit me again and I slashed at his arm.

"Hey, I'm not a Defender!" I shouted, even while I realized how this must look. "Nicholas, call him off!"

But when I glanced at Nicholas, I could see that he wasn't in much of a position to do so. Daddy had, predictably, gone for the biggest kill, and Nicholas looked like he was barely able to dodge the twin force of Daddy's long swords.

"How'd they find us, then?" the Turn Boy yelled, swiping my legs out from under me.

I controlled the fall. "I didn't know they were following!"

Obviously, logic wasn't going to get through to him. He lunged for my neck. I didn't stop him, just scooted a crucial few inches to the right, so he face-planted into the cold rock. I scrambled up and tossed myself on top of his back--no time now for anything fancy. He grunted. I placed the heel of my impractical boots on his neck and raised my sword. I didn't want to pop him, but he needed to be incapacitated. I settled on nicking his jugular with the blade. The blood that spilled wouldn't kill him, but he wouldn't be able to do more than crawl for days. As he gurgled, I clambered off and looked again for Nicholas. Troy's stupid plan meant an even greater delay getting to Aileen. I had to grab Nicholas and go. Daddy hadn't killed him yet, thankfully. But while Daddy's eyes were filled with the demented energy that had made him the most famous demon hunter in Montana, Nicholas seemed like he was flagging. The Faust, I realized. It slowed his reflexes and sapped his energy, even with his recent infusion of fresh blood.

Time to save the big boss vampire from my daddy.

I sprinted through the milling, bloody fight, nearly tripping over some sucker's popped skin.
Please don't let that be Charlie
. But I didn't have time to look. Nicholas had fallen down, his back propped against the tunnel wall. Daddy raised his blades high above his head. I was just in time. I dove beneath Daddy and raised my own blade to block his. The force of his blows smashed me against Nicholas and the stone. I barely felt it.

"What the devil?" Daddy looked as though he could barely restrain himself from hitting me, but I didn't feel any danger.

"I've got to borrow him for a moment, Daddy," I said, "since your clever Defender stunt is about to kill my best friend. Find us after you've worked your way through these guys."

To his credit, Daddy shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the fight at hand. I pushed Nicholas forward. "We have to get to Rinaldo now," I hissed.

He looked back at his gang, and for a moment I thought he would refuse to abandon them. But then he nodded and started jogging down the tunnel.

The sounds of battle faded behind us to distorted grunts and clashes. If I didn't know better, I'd think that Nicholas had been possessed. Something in the way he so determinedly marched toward a place he obviously did not want to go was eerie.

When we turned a corner the shift from tunnel to house could not have been more obvious. The floor was inlaid with mosaic marble, and the walls were wood with a dark veneer. We clicked along the entranceway until it opened into a foyer. Several other tunnels and doors branched out like spokes from a wheel. Nicholas didn't hesitate. He turned to a large oak door on the right and turned the handle. Locked.

"Stand back." His voice was quiet. I scrambled away like he'd shouted. With no further warning he launched himself at the door. The force of the blow echoed like an earthquake over the marble, but the wood was only dented. He launched himself again. Handle smashed, the door glided open gently on its hinges. I unsheathed my sword, took out the useless pistol, and followed Nicholas inside.

It was a study of some kind, with a bare wooden floor and instruments and books lining the walls. I saw Aileen first, blessedly alive. She was trussed up and seated on the floor in the middle of a circle drawn with chalk. The sides of her neck were bloody, and I realized after a moment that Rinaldo must have ripped the cuff links from her ears. She leaned forward when she saw me and shouted against her gag. I gave her a smile I hoped was reassuring and scuffed the chalk with my shoe. Slowly, I turned my gaze to the other person in the room. He was standing in front of a larger, but empty, chalk circle, reading from what looked like a grimoire. Something about him seemed familiar to me, but I couldn't place where I'd seen him before. He finished what ever he was reading and laid a sprig of an herb in the circle.

"There," he said, turning to us. "He should be here any moment now." He smiled, and suddenly I realized where I'd seen him before. He was a taller, paler, slightly doughier version of the white piano player at Horace's and that party I'd gone to with Lily. Modern music, Amir had told me. And poor Nicholas with his beautiful arrested voice. Rinaldo's accent now was faintly Italian, but he'd be able to mask it easily enough.

"Nice to see you again," I said, with affected casualness. "You look different."

He shrugged. "Just a little ability I have. I see you've found my son."

"That's funny. Which one?"

That surprised him. "I only see Nicholas," he said carefully.

"And only I know where the other one is. If you want him back, I suggest you give me my friend."

"You have little Giudo?" he asked. I winced. If I was going to have to kill this sucker, I wished he didn't have to sound so much like a distraught father. But I nodded.

"And you want this girl for him? But she murdered my good friend, Miss Hollis."

I suspected that now was not the time to tell him who had actually done the foul deed, so I just shrugged. "What's worth more? Your son, or revenge?"

The air in the empty circle began to shimmer. Some of the instruments rattled on their shelves. "I'm afraid the choice isn't quite so simple," he said.

What was happening? I turned to Nicholas, but he was still as a statue. His eyes flicked around the room, but so quickly I suspected he was deep in the throes of a flashback. Anything I did to pull him out would only put me in danger.

The room stopped trembling. Inside the circle, the shimmering gradually resolved itself into a figure.

It was one of the Djinni, but not quite so dark or billowy as Kardal. He was very tall--almost eight feet--and the deep smoke swirling around his body and flashing eyes seemed to glow with an internal flame. I'd never seen this djinn before, and yet something about the obvious theatrics smacked of a certain sense of the absurd I almost recognized . . .

"O fiery one," Rinaldo said, "I offer you a sacrifice of a virgin pure, so your strength can grow and in turn feed mine."

"Good lord," said the great djinn. He shook his head, and the swirling smoke blew away while the figure inside shrank to a more familiar size. I blinked. I hadn't known he could do that.

Amir was dressed in knickers and a cashmere sweater, and so sick that despite even this effort he looked as though he needed to lie down. I cursed myself for caring. He could damn well take care of himself this time. I washed my hands of him, the Faust-selling lout. Rinaldo seemed surprised at what his summoning had wrought, though he'd done this at least once before.

Amir looked disdainfully at Rinaldo and then at Aileen. "You again?" he said to her. "Well, this hasn't exactly been the best week for either of us, has it?"

Rinaldo seemed confused. "Ah, you are Amir, the great and youngest djinn of Shadukiam--"

"Sorry to disappoint. I just don't have the energy right now to look large and billowing."

Amir had noticed me, of course, but apart from a split-second surprised glance, he kept his attention trained on Rinaldo. I edged forward. I thought about attacking Rinaldo, but Aileen was closer and I wanted to make sure she was safe. Hopefully Daddy and Troy and the other Defenders would be along soon. I knelt to slice through the tight knots binding her ankles and wrists.

"And I hope you've realized by now my blood can't do a thing to change you. That
sahir
curse was of the permanent variety." Amir was rambling, but deliberately saying things to provoke Rinaldo.

"I felt its power," Rinaldo said.

"You would. It doesn't mean it can change you."

"It can. And if it doesn't, I'll still be the most powerful vampire in the world, with your blood."

I untied Aileen's gag. She took a deep breath, but thankfully Rinaldo didn't notice.

"Get up very carefully," I whispered. "Run through that door. Hide in a corner and don't come out until you hear me, Troy or Daddy tell you it's okay."

Aileen looked at me. "Be careful," she whispered. "I'm getting this feeling . . ."

I nodded. She shook out her wrists, stood up and sprinted for the door. As expected, Rinaldo could hardly fail to notice his bait running away, but by that time I was already sprinting at him with my sword raised in one hand and the pistol in the other. He knocked the pistol to the floor, but disregarded the sword. I swung it hard, and felt it bite into his rib cage. He grunted when I yanked it out, but there was none of the characteristic sizzle of a silver blessed blade hitting vampire skin. Another spell? He pulled a long sword from one of the shelves and unsheathed it. I swallowed. Blessings didn't matter one way or another to me, but sharp steel certainly did.

"Well," he said, "one virgin is as good as another."

"Why do vampires insist on thinking that everyone behaves like them?" Amir said from the prison of his chalk circle. "I don't get power from the blood of virgins, you fool. And as you can see, at the present moment I'm not likely to give you much power anyway. So why don't you just let us all go home?"