"Eventually, but if we really want answers to our questions, we need to go back and ask her."
He gave one quick nod, after you, and I realized that Edward didn't trust me at his back. He thought that she had possessed me. I didn't argue with him. I just walked through the door first and went back to talk to Itzpapalotl. I hoped Ramirez hadn't tried to put handcuffs on her. She wouldn't like that, and what she didn't like, her followers didn't like, and there were a hundred and two vampires. I had no idea how many werejaguars she had. This was a feeding not meant for them. But it was a small army, and Ramirez hadn't brought that much backup.
RAMIREZ HADN'T PUT cuffs on anyone, but he had called for more backup. There were four more uniforms in the room, and about twenty werejaguars. The audience was watching it all as if it were part of the show. I guess if they could sit through what had been done to Seth, they could sit through a little police action.
I was ahead of Edward as we came into the room. He fell a step behind me, the way we often did when one of us was going to be in charge of the next few minutes. Maybe my eyes were glowing black pits, but Edward still trusted me to calm the situation. Good to know.
The werejaguars were moving through the tables, trying to flank the cops. The uniforms had their hands on their guns. The holsters were unbuckled. It wasn't going to take much to get a gun drawn and the shit to hit the fan. Be a shame to push this big a button when the vampires weren't trying to hurt anybody.
One of the jaguars was moving again, trying to close the circle around the police. I touched his arm. His power trembled over my hand, and it was more than just my own power, or the marks, that flared and answered that rush. He looked down at me and saw the eyes or felt her power, whatever it was, when I said, "Back up, go stand with the others." He did it. Progress. Now if only the police would be as reasonable.
I turned to the police and started walking towards them. One of the new uniforms said, "Shit," hand on gun, other hand out like a traffic stop. "Don't come any closer."
"Ramirez," I said, and made sure my voice carried.
"It's okay. She's with us," he said.
"But her eyes," the uniform said.
"She's with us. Let her through, now." Ramirez's voice was low, but the anger carried.
The uniforms parted like a curtain, very careful not to touch me as I went past. I guess I couldn't blame them, though I wanted to. I was finally at the table with Edward behind me, and the nervous uniforms beyond him. I faced Itzpapalotl across the table. Pinotl was at her side, but they were no longer holding hands. His eyes were still as black as mine, but hers were normal. Strangely, with the hood pushed back to show that delicate face and those normal seeming eyes, she looked the most human of the three of us.
Ramirez had laid some of the pictures on the table. "Tell me what this is." It sounded like a question he'd asked before.
She looked at me.
"Do you know what it is?" I asked.
"No, I truly do not. It does look like one of our artisans could have made it, but the eyes are stones that came with the Spaniards. I do not recognize all the elements of the symbolism."
"But you recognize some of them," I said.
"Yes."
"What do you recognize?"
"The bodies around the base could be the ones you drink."
"You mean like you did with Seth tonight?"
She nodded.
"What is it holding in its hands?"
"It could be many things, but I think it is the lesser things of the body. The heart is spoken for, as are the bones, and many other parts, but no god feeds on the ... " she frowned searching for the word, " ... intestines, and other viscera."
"That makes sense," I said.
I felt Ramirez shift beside me, as if he badly wanted to say it does. But he kept quiet because he was a good cop, and she was talking to me. Did it really matter why? Not right that second it didn't.
"You saw the creature that ... " it was my turn to hesitate. If the police knew what Nicky had done, it was an automatic death sentence. But frankly, he deserved it. The werewolves that he had sucked dry hadn't been willing sacrifices. And he'd cut them up, knowing they were still alive, he'd cut them up and sewn them into that monster behind the bar. It was one of the worst things I'd come across, and that was saying a lot.
I made my decision and knew that it would eventually cost Nicky his life. "You saw the creature that Nicky Baco made?"
She nodded. "I saw. It is a corruption of a great gift."
"Does his master gain power through it just like you do?"
"Yes, and Nicky Baco gains power through it, much as Pinotl does. As you have."
"Can he pass that power to others, like maybe a werewolf pack?"
She seemed to think about that, head to one side, then finally nodded. "It would be possible to share with wereanimals if you had some bond with them of a mystical nature."
"He's vargamor for the local pack," I said.
"I am not familiar with the word vargamor."
It was a wolf term. "It's their witch, their brujo, and they are bound to the pack."
"Then certainly he could share the power with them."
"Nicky said he didn't know where this god lay."
"He lies," she said. "You do not gain this power without the touch of your god's hand."
I'd gotten that from the images that had filled me, but I wanted it confirmed.
"Then Nicky should be able to take us to the place where the god is hiding?"
She nodded. "He knows."
"Do you have a problem with us hunting down and killing a god from your pantheon?"
A look crossed her face that I didn't understand. "If it is a god, then you cannot kill it, and if you can kill it, then it is not a god. I do not mourn the death of false gods."
It was kind of funny coming from her, but I let it go. It wasn't my job to convince her what she was, or what she wasn't. "Thank you for your help, Itzpapalotl."
She gave me a long look, and I knew what she wanted, but ... "You are indeed a goddess, but I cannot serve two masters," I said.
"His power is lust, and you deny him his power."
I felt the heat rush up my face and wondered what a blush looked like with glowing black eyes. It wasn't what she'd said. It was me knowing what she'd seen in my head. She knew more intimate details than my best friend. Just as I'd shared what she and Pinotl considered a very private and intimate moment of their sharing. Fair is fair, but somehow I didn't think Itzpapalotl blushed.
"I thought I was just denying him sex."
She looked at me the way you'd look a child that was deliberately misunderstanding a point. "Tell me, Anita, what is the base of my power?"
The question surprised me, but I answered it; the time for lying between us was past. "Power, you feed off of pure power regardless of the source."
She smiled, and that thread of power in me smiled with her, made me feel glowy all over. "Now, what is your master's base of power?"
I'd been running from this particular truth for a very long time. Not all master vampires had a secondary power base, another way to draw energy, other than blood or human servants or animals to call. But some did, and Jean-Claude was one of them.
"Anita," she said, as if reminding me that I was supposed to be saying something.
"Sex, his base of power is sex," I said.
Again, she smiled happily at me, and I felt that warm answering glow. It was good to be truthful. It was good to be smart. It was good to please her. And that of course was one of her dangers. If you stayed near her long enough, it might become an end in itself to please her. Even thinking it, I couldn't be afraid of her. Good that I didn't live in Albuquerque.
"By denying him and your wolf, you cripple not just the triad of power, but him. You have crippled him, Anita. You have crippled your master."
I heard myself say, "I'm sorry."
"It is not me that you must be sorry to. It is him. Go home and beg his forgiveness, lay yourself at his feet and feed his power."
I closed my eyes, because what I really wanted to do was nod and just agree. I was pretty sure the spell would wear off before I got home to St. Louis, but putting this woman and Jean-Claude together as a team would have been my undoing. Even now, I was glad he was hundreds of miles away, because I nodded, eyes still closed.
She took the nod as assent. "Good, very good. If your master is grateful for my aid in this matter, let him contact me. I know that we can come to an understanding."
And for the first time since she'd zapped me, I felt a thrill of fear. I looked at her through a veil of her power and was afraid of her.
She read it in me. "You should always be afraid of gods, Anita. If you are not afraid, then you are a fool and you are not a fool." She looked past me to Ramirez. "I believe that I have helped you all that I can, Detective Ramirez."
He said, "Anita?"
I nodded. "Yeah, it's time to go see Nicky Baco."
"If Nicky lied to us, then so did his pack leader," Edward said, "because he said Nicky was telling the truth about not knowing where the monster was."
"If Nicky can share this kind of power with the werewolves, then I know why the pack lied."
"The werewolves will fight to protect Nicky," Edward said.
We looked at each other. "It'll be a blood bath if the police go in force." I shook my head. "But what choice do we have?"
"Nicky isn't at the bar," Ramirez said.
We turned to him, said in unison, "Where is he?"
"In the hospital. Someone beat the shit out of him."
Edward and I exchanged glances, and we both smiled. "Back to the hospital, then," I said.
He nodded. "Back to the hospital."
I looked at Ramirez. "If that's all right with you?"
"Can you prove what you've been saying about Baco?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Then it's a death sentence. He'll know that. I've seen Baco in an interrogation. He's tough, and he knows that he has nothing to gain and everything to lose by telling us the truth."
"Then we'll have to find something that he's more afraid of than being executed." I couldn't help it. I turned and looked at Itzpapalotl. I met her eyes and there was no pull to them now. Her own power protected me from her. No stars, no endless night, just a dark knowledge of what I was thinking, and her approval of the plan.
"We can't do anything illegal," Ramirez said.
"Of course not," I said.
"I mean it, Anita."
I looked at him, and watched him flinch when he met my eyes, "Would I do that to you?"
He searched my face as if trying to decipher it. It was the way I looked at Edward sometimes, or Jean-Claude. Finally, he said, "I don't know what you'd do." And that, for better or worse, was the truth.
EDWARD GOT HIS SUNGLASSES out of the glove compartment and handed them to me before we went inside the hospital. My eyes hadn't changed back, though I knew the effect was beginning to wear off, because the fact that my eyes were still black and glowy was beginning to worry me. It was a good sign.
Nicky Baco was not in a private room. The police had his roommate moved to a different room. Nicky was in traction, and wasn't going anywhere. He lay in the bed and looked smaller than I knew he was. The leg that had been badly broken was in a cast from toe to thigh. Little pulleys and cords held his leg up at an odd angle that must have been hell on the back.
Ramirez had been questioning Nicky for about thirty minutes and was getting nowhere. Edward and I leaned against the wall and watched the show. But Nicky had done exactly what we'd feared he'd do. He'd grasped his situation and his options right away. He was going to die. So why should he help us?
"We know where the monster you made is, Nicky. We know what you did. Help us stop this thing before it kills again."
"And what?" Nicky said. "I know the law. There's no life in prison for a witch that uses magic to kill. It's an automatic death sentence. You got nothing to offer me, Ramirez."
I pushed away from the wall and touched Ramirez's arm. He looked at me, and the frustration was already showing. He'd been informed that Lieutenant Marks was on the way. He wanted to crack Baco before Marks arrived so he would get credit and not his lieutenant. Political, but the reality in most police work.
"Can I ask a few questions, Detective?"
He took a breath, let it out slow. "Sure." He stepped back to let me stand beside the bed.
I looked down at Nicky. Someone had handcuffed one of his wrists to the bed rail. I wasn't sure it was necessary with the traction, but it made a nice point. "What would the Red Woman's Husband do if he knew you gave away his secret hideout?"
He stared up at me, and even through the sunglasses I could see the hate in his eyes. I could also see the fast rise and fall of his chest, the thud of the pulse in his neck. He was scared.
"Answer me, Nicky."
"He'd kill me."
"How?"
That made him frown. "What do you mean, how?"
"I mean what method of death would he use? How would he kill you?"
Nicky shifted in the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot. The leg pulled tight, and he jerked on the handcuffed wrist, making it rattle up and down the bar. There was no comfortable position for Nicky tonight.
"He'd probably send his monster after me. It'd cut me up and gut me like it's done to the others."
"His minion slaughtered all the witches or psychics, and skinned the mundanes. That's it, isn't it?"
"If you're so smart, you don't need to ask me. You have all the answers."
"Not all of them," I said. I touched the bed rail that he was cuffed to, wrapped my hands around it on either side of the cuff so he couldn't slide it without hitting one of my hands. "I've seen the bodies, Nicky. It's a bad way to go, but there are worse things."
He gave a harsh laugh. "Being gutted alive -- doesn't get much worse than that," he said.
I took the sunglasses off and let him see the eyes.
He stopped breathing for a heartbeat. He just stared up at me, eyes growing wide, breath trapped in his throat.
I touched his hand, and he screamed. "Don't touch me! Don't you fucking touch me!" He was jerking on the handcuff frantically, over and over, as if that would help.
Ramirez came to stand on the other side of the bed across from me. He looked a question at me.
"I didn't hurt him, Hernando."
"Get her the fuck away from me."
"Tell us where the monster is, and I'll send her out of the room."
Nicky looked from one to the other of us, and the fear showed on his face now. You didn't have to have vampire vision to see it. "You can't do this to me. You're the cops."
"We're not doing anything to you," Ramirez said.
Nicky's eyes flicked back to me. "You're the cops. You can execute me, but you can't torture me. That's the law."
"You're right, Nicky. The police aren't allowed to torture prisoners." I leaned in close and whispered, "But I'm not the police."
He started tugging on the chain again, rattling it up and down the bar. "Get her away from me, now! I want a lawyer. I want a fucking lawyer."
Ramirez turned to the two uniformed cops waiting by the door. "Go call Mr. Baco a lawyer."
The two cops looked at each other. "Both of us?" one asked.
Ramirez nodded. "Yeah, both of you."
They exchanged another look and went for the door. The taller one asked, "How long you think this phone call should take?"
"A while, and knock before you come back in."
The uniforms left, and it was just Edward, Ramirez, Nicky, and me. Nicky was staring up at Ramirez. "You're a good cop, Ramirez. I've never heard any dirt on you. You won't let her hurt me. You're a good guy. You won't let her hurt me." His voice was high and frantic, but each time he said it, he seemed more sure of himself, more certain that Ramirez's goodness would be his shield.
He was probably right on one thing, Ramirez wouldn't let me hurt him, but I was willing to bet that Ramirez would let me scare him.
I reached out like I'd stroke Nicky's face. He jerked back, out of reach.
"Ramirez, shit, please, don't let her touch me."
"I'll be over there if you need me, Anita." He walked away from the bed and went to sit in a chair at the end of the room near Edward.
Nicky screamed after him, "Ramirez, please, please!"
I touched his mouth with fingertips, and he froze under that gentle touch. His eyes moved slowly, so slowly until he was looking up into mine. "Shhh," I said and lowered my face towards his, as if I'd kiss his forehead.
He opened his mouth, drew a breath, and shrieked. I grabbed his face between my hands the way I'd seen Pinotl do, but I knew that it didn't have to be the hands. I could suck him dry with a kiss. "Shut up, Nicky, shut up!"
He started to cry. "Please, oh, god, please don't."
"Did the werewolves beg like this?" I asked. "Did they, Nicky?" I pressed my hands into his face until the skin puckered.
"Yes," he said, voice squeezed by how tight I was holding his face. I had to force myself to release his face, or I was going to leave red marks. Couldn't mark him up. Couldn't give Marks a reason to punish Ramirez.
I leaned my arms on the bed rail that he was chained to. He pulled his hand to the length of the chain, but didn't struggle. He watched me the way mice watch cats when they know there's no way out. I leaned towards him. It was a very casual movement, but it put my face close to his, not close enough to touch but close enough that he got an up close look at the eyes.
"You see, Nicky, there are worse things."
"You need me to bring the others back. You do me, and I can't give them back their lives."
"You see, Nicky. I don't need you anymore. I know how to bring them back all by myself." I leaned over, balancing on tiptoe and my arms on the rail, leaning in, as if to whisper in his ear. "Your services are no longer needed."
"Please," he whispered.
I spoke with my mouth so close to his face that I could feel my breath coming back from his skin in a warm pulse. "The doctors will certify you dead, Nicky. They'll bury you in a box somewhere, and you'll hear every shovel full of dirt as it hits the coffin lid. You'll lie there in the dark and scream in your head, and no one will hear you. Maybe we'll have to put a jade bead in your mouth and sew it shut to make you lie still."
Tears trailed from his eyes, but his face was blank, as if he didn't know he was crying.
"Tell them where your master is, Nicky, or I swear I will do worse than kill you." I kissed him on the forehead, very gently.
He whimpered.
I kissed the tip of his nose, the way you do with children. I hovered over his mouth. "Tell them, Nicky." I lowered my mouth over his, our lips brushed, and he turned his head.
"I'll tell you. I'll tell you anything you want to know."
I moved away from the bed and let Ramirez move up to take his turn.
A phone rang, and Edward pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. He opened the door and went into the hall to take the call.
Ramirez's voice was not happy. "What do you mean you can't tell me how to get there?" He had his notebook open, his pen poised, and nothing written down.
I started to walk back toward the bed.
Nicky held his hands up as if to ward me off. "I swear to you that I can take you to it, but I can't give you directions and be sure you'll find it. I don't want to send you out into the dark, and have you not find it. You'd blame me, and it wouldn't be my fault."
Ramirez looked at me.
I nodded. He was too scared to lie, and it was too stupid a story to be made up.
"I can take you to it. If I'm there, I can take you to it."
"Of course, if you're there, you can warn your master," I said.
"I wouldn't do that." But I saw the change in his skin color, the rise in breathing, the flick of his eyes.
"Liar," I said.
"All right, but I'd be a fool not to try and get away. They're going to kill me, Anita. Why shouldn't I try to get away?"
I guess I couldn't blame him on that one. "Call Leonora Evans. She's a witch. Have her ward him, make sure that he can't contact his master by anything other than yelling."
"And the yelling?" Ramirez said.
"Gag him when the time comes," I said.
"You trust Leonora Evans to do this?"
"She saved my life, so I guess I do."
Ramirez nodded. "Okay, I'll call her in." He looked at the traction ropes. "The doctors aren't going to want him going anywhere tonight."
"Talk to them, Hernando. Explain what's at stake. Besides, what good does it do to heal him if you're just going to turn around and execute him?
Ramirez looked at me. "That was harsh."
"Yeah, it was, but it's still true."
Edward knocked and came in the door just far enough to say, "I need you out here."
I glanced at Ramirez. "I think we can take it from here, thank you," he said.
"My pleasure." I slipped the sunglasses back on as I followed Edward out into the hall. The moment I looked at Edward's face, I knew something bad had happened. He didn't show it the way a normal person would, but it was there, the tightness around his eyes, the way he held himself, carefully, as if he were afraid to move too suddenly or he'd break. I don't think I'd have seen it without the vampire vision.
"What's wrong?" I stepped in close, because something told me this was not for police consumption. With Edward it so seldom was.
He took me by the arm down the hallway, further away from the uniforms that were staring our way. "Riker has Donna's kids." His grip tightened, and I didn't tell him it hurt. "He has Peter and Becca. He's going to kill them if I don't bring you to him now. He knows we're at the hospital. He's given me an hour to make the drive, then he starts torturing them. If I'm not there in two hours, he'll kill them. If I bring the police in, he'll kill them."
I touched his arm. If it had been almost any other friend, I'd have hugged him.
"Is Donna okay?"
He seemed to realize he was digging into my arm and let me go. "This is Donna's night at her group. I don't know if the babysitter's still alive, but Donna won't even be home for two, maybe three hours. She doesn't know."
"Let's go," I said.
We turned and started walking down the hallway. Ramirez yelled behind us.
"Where are you two going? I thought you'd want to be in on it."
"Personal emergency," Edward said, and kept walking.
I turned around, walking backwards, trying to talk at the same time. "In two hours call Ted's house. The call will be forwarded to his cell phone. We'll join you on the monster hunt."
"Why two hours?" he asked.
"The emergency will be taken care of by then," I said. I had to touch Edward's arm, to keep walking backwards and not fall.
"Everything could be over two hours from now," Ramirez said.
"I'm sorry." Edward was at the doors that led into the next section of hallway. He pulled me through, the doors shut behind us. He was already punching numbers on the cell phone. "I'll have Olaf and Bernardo meet us at the turnoff to Riker's place."
I don't know which of them answered, but he gave a long list of things to bring, and he made them write it down. We were out of the hospital, through the parking lot and getting into his Hummer before he clicked the telephone off.
Edward drove, and all I had to do was think. Not a good thing. I was remembering last May when some bad guys kidnapped Richard's mother and younger brother. They'd sent us a box with a lock of his brother's hair, and his mother's finger in it. Everyone that had touched them was dead. Everyone that had hurt them would never hurt anyone again. I only had two regrets: one, that I hadn't gotten there in time to save them from being tortured; two, that the bad guys hadn't suffered enough before they died.
If Riker hurt Peter and Becca ... I wasn't sure I wanted to see what Edward would do to him. I prayed as we rode through the darkness, "Please, God, don't let them be hurt. Let them be safe." Riker could be lying. They could already be dead, but I didn't think so. Maybe because I needed them to be alive. I remembered Becca in her sunflower dress with that sprig of lilacs in her hair, laughing in Edward's arms. I saw Peter's sullen resentment when Edward and his mother touched. I remembered the way Peter had stood up to Russell in the restaurant when he threatened Becca. He was a brave kid. I tried not to think about what could be happening to them right this second.
Edward had gone very, very quiet. When I looked at him, the dark crystal vision showed me further into him than I'd ever seen before. I didn't have to guess whether he cared for the children. I could see it. He loved them. As much as he was capable of it, he loved them. If someone hurt them his vengeance was going to be a thing of great and awesome terror. I wouldn't be able to stop him no matter what he wanted to do to them. All I would be able to do was stand and watch and try not to get too much blood on my shoes.