Elrod, P.N. - The Vampire Files 12 by Elrod P.N

Author:Elrod, P.N.
Language: eng
Format: epub

Good thing Kroun waited outside, there was no parking anywhere close, including the alley behind the club. A delivery truck blocked the entry. Several large guys in dark coats (and probably up to no good) glared my way as I rolled by at a snail’s pace.

Stuff was being dropped off or picked up—bodies or booze, I couldn’t tell what—business as usual for the Nightcrawler Club.

Kroun emerged from a shadow, stepped up on my running board, and opened the passenger door.

“Keep moving,” he said before I could hit the brake.

I kept moving, feeding more gas once he was inside and had pulled the door shut. Even he had to work hauling it to, because of the armor and thick glass. “What’s the deal?”

“Just head west and watch the mirror.”

“What’s got you spooked?”

“Broder. I think he saw me. I ducked and got scarce, but you never know with him.”

“Why not just hypnotize him?”

Kroun didn’t answer.

“Or maybe you tried once, and it didn’t work? Crazy people are immune. Is he crazy?”

He thought that one over. “Single-minded. He’s Michael’s watchdog. Won’t work for anyone else.”

“Nice pals you got. Just talk for a minute and get ’em off your back.”

“I have nothing new to say and better things to do. Michael will see it differently and waste time for everyone.”

Sounded reasonable. “Why am I here?”

“I need you to drive while I figure the roads.”

“Where’re we going?”

“That mirror clear?”

“Seems so.”

“Make sure.”

I made sure. Broder was the kind of mug one should always avoid.

Kroun twisted around to watch for tails. His mood was considerably improved and more energetic, and I wondered why until an intake of breath tipped me to a faint trace of perfume clinging to his clothes.

I got uncomfortable pretty fast and opened my mouth without thinking. “Is she all right?”

“What?”

“The girl you were just with. Is she all right?”

“You followed me?” He was more surprised than anything.

“I can smell her on you. Is she—”

“She’s fine. Cripes, can’t a man have some privacy?”

“How much did you take from her?”

He didn’t reply, apparently overcome by sheer disbelief for the question. “What the hell—?”

“Figure it out. The things Sonny said, the hints Michael dropped about you making trouble, and the other night you were harping at me about feeding from—”

Kroun cut me off with one burst of gutter language and slammed the back of his hand against the door in frustration. I kept driving, ready to hit the brake in case he took a swing. Instead, he steamed a while, shaking his head, then barked a short laugh.

“Fleming, it is no goddamned wonder that people want to kill you.”

“Just doing my job.”

“Now you start,” he muttered. “Okay, fine. I understand. I’ve got a bad reputation, so I’ll let this pass. On the level—the lady is just peachy. But don’t take my word for it, find a phone, pull over. I’ll even give you a nickel to call the joint.”

He named one of the more expensive brothels under Gordy’s supervision, the name of the madam, and the girl in question.

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