Crimson Death (25 page)

“Y
OU BETTER TAKE
Edward off hold,” Nathaniel said.

“Oh, right.”

Nathaniel grinned. “I like that little brother can make you forget yourself like that.”

“You calling him
little brother
doesn't help me with the age gap issues, Nathaniel. Just saying. But let's go into the break room for the call, in case someone wants to use the gym.”

“He is my brother of choice, and he is younger,” Nathaniel said as he walked toward the small room that Nicky and Jake had come out of less than an hour ago. It had been a busy hour.

“He's your brother-husband. There's a difference,” I said.

He held the door for me as I hit the button to take Edward off hold.

“I said kiss the boy, not make out with him,” Edward said.

“I'm frowning at the phone, just so you know.”

He chuckled; I think I was one of five people on the planet who got to hear that sound from him. “I'm putting you on speakerphone, Edward,” I said. I sat down at the four-seater table so we could lay the phone on the table and both of us sit near the phone.

“Who's listening with you?” he asked.

“Nathaniel.”

“Since when do you include him on our phone calls?”

I had a moment of not knowing what to say, but Nathaniel leaned into the phone and said, “Are you still wanting Damian to come to Ireland to help you?”

“Yes,” Edward said, and that one word was very clipped and not exactly friendly.

“He's still out for the day, so I'm listening for his benefit, so he can make an informed decision.”

“Don't you trust me to tell Damian the truth?” I asked.

“You'll tell him your truth, the cop truth. I love you, Anita, but you'll have solving the case as your primary focus.”

“Are you saying I'd manipulate Damian to get him to come to Ireland just so I could solve the case?”

“Not in the front of your head, but in the back of your head, yes.”

“You're saying I value the case over Damian's well-being?”

“If you can convince yourself that he won't be in that much danger, or that it would be good for him to confront his fears and he can help you stop the killings in Ireland, yes, absolutely.”

Edward laughed, and it was a real laugh, the one that said he was truly amused.

“
Et tu
, Edward?” I said.

His voice still held an edge of laughter as he said, “We're both good at finding reasons to make people do what we want them to do, Anita. He's right on that.”

“Maybe. Are you okay with him listening in?”

“If you are,” he said, and him taking it so calmly surprised me.

“Yeah, I'm okay with it.”

“Fine. Then I'll talk to you like Nathaniel isn't standing right there, and he can interject.”

“Interject?” I said.

“I've been helping Peter fill out applications for college,” he said.

“So he's not going into the military right away?”

“His mother and I persuaded him to try a year of college. If he doesn't like it he can still join up.”

I was pretty sure that Donna had done more of the persuading than Edward had, but I let that go. I actually agreed with Donna on this one. “I'm glad to hear that. It's easier to try college and then sign up for the military than the other way around.”

“Which is one of the reasons I sided with Donna on this.” Something about the way he said it made me let the topic drop.

“Have you done any college visits? We did some with Sin,” Nathaniel said. He didn't know Edward's tone of voice the way I did, so he'd missed the “this topic is closed” inflection.

“A few, but let's save Old Home Week for later,” Edward said.

Nathaniel started to say something, but I shook my head at him. He took the hint and let it go.

“You said something about getting me and my preternatural friends into Ireland; what did you mean by that?” I asked.

“You can bring your deputies like you did on the case in Washington state.”

I said, “Outside of special circumstances, in the Preternatural Branch of the U.S. Marshals Service I can't even deputize civilians in the country. How the hell did you get it to work in Ireland?”

“You can't call them deputies here, but you can still bring them.”

“To Ireland?”

“Yes.”

Nathaniel gave me wide eyes, because I'd discussed with him that no one wanted me to come play.

“How? I wasn't sure you'd get me into the country, let alone me and extra people.”

“First, the Irish police are interested in seeing how well the shapeshifters work with us, and them. Bring Socrates unless you think he won't work well with the rest of the group.”

“Because he's an ex-cop,” I said.

“Yes, I'd go with more ex-military and police if possible.”

“I'll do what I can. Will the guards who helped us out in Washington state be okay by you?”

“They'll do, and Nicky can always come play with us.”

“He's so not ex-cop, or military anything,” I said.

“No, but he's good enough that I'd take him for backup even if you couldn't come with him.”

“Wow, that is high praise coming from you.”

“Just truth.”

I'd have to remember to tell Nicky later, though he would probably just shrug it off and say,
Of course
, or say nothing. I might not even be able to tell if it pleased him. It had tickled the hell out of me when Edward told me I was good enough for backup, but of course my background and Nicky's were vastly different, and so were our reactions to certain things.

“Okay, Socrates and Nicky. Any other requests?”

“Lisandro, Claudia, Bobby Lee.”

“Claudia doesn't travel out of town with me, but the other two, check.”

“She came to Colorado.”

“She came with Jean-Claude, not me.”

“Okay, whatever, you can explain to me why that matters later, but right now just bring a small group that would play well enough with police and military to not make them regret the decision to let us come play.”

But Nathaniel felt compelled to answer the Claudia question. “Claudia doesn't want the
ardeur
to rise with her alone with Anita. That's why she won't travel out of town with her.”

I gave him the look that oversharing deserved. It was not a friendly look.

He shrugged and said, “What?”

“I'm beginning to like having Nathaniel on this call,” Edward said.

I frowned harder at Nathaniel and then aimed it at the phone, too, as if Edward could see it. Truth was, he wouldn't have been bothered if he'd been there for me to glare at.

“Let's concentrate on business, shall we?”

“I'm all about business, Anita; you know that.”

“I don't know how the hell you pulled this off, Edward.”

“We got lucky; they're thinking about putting their own preternatural unit together, but they don't want to simply duplicate the British unit. They weren't entirely happy with how the Brits handled the last time they had to call them for help.”

“Didn't they fight to get free of British control for a long time?”

“Yeah, so having to call in the Brits for help the last time they had a preternatural citizen go rogue on them didn't sit well with the government, or the popular vote.”

“Ah, I hear elections coming,” I said.

“It's not just the politicians, Anita. You have to know more of the history of the country to understand just how desperate they were to turn to their nearest neighbors for help.”

“Why didn't they ask Interpol for help?” I asked.

“Interpol's preternatural unit was tied up elsewhere and couldn't
get there as quickly as the Brits could. To save Irish lives they let their old conquerors into their country again. The president of Ireland and his party lost the next election because of it.”

“Wait. This is like a footnote in something else I read. It was a mixed group of lycanthropes, a human sorcerer, a couple of witches, and some fairies—I mean, Fey, or whatever.”

“Important safety tip in Ireland: Don't call them fairies.”

“I know that, Edward, honest.”

“Just a reminder. Tell all your people to remember it, too.”

“Why can't we call them fairies?” Nathaniel asked.

“In old-world Fey it's the equivalent of calling someone who's African-American the N-word, except that Fey have magic to punish you for the insult.”

“Wow, really, it's that big an insult?”

“To some of the older Fey in the Old World, yes,” I said.

“What do we call them instead?” he asked.

Edward answered, “Fey, the gentle folk, the kindly ones;
little people
has fallen out of favor, but some old-timers still use it.”

“
The hidden folk
is another one,” I said.

“
Fey
is shorter and more common among the police in most countries,” Edward said.

“I know that Ireland has kept the highest concentration of Fey in the world,” I said.

“But most of the wee folk are good citizens, or they just want to be left alone to do what they've done for the last thousand years.”

“Bullshit, there are still Unseelie Fey over there, and they've always been prone to do bad things.”

“They don't see it that way, Anita. They think they're neutral like nature.”

“Yeah, nature is neutral, but a blizzard will still kill you, and there are a few types of gentle folk that really do like to hurt people.”

“But they don't, because they don't want to be deported,” he said.

“I still remember reading in college about what it took for some of the European countries to deport the gentle folk. Massive magic, because they are tied to the land; you remove some of the folk and the land can actually start to die.”

“That would complicate things.”

“They didn't know it would kill the land back in the day, and they didn't understand that Fey that weren't tied to their land could go rogue in a big way, or the British didn't know. Apparently Ireland's Fey population was more wild and even more closely connected to the land than their British Isles counterparts.”

“And you remember all this from college?”

“Enough that I looked it up online briefly after you told me Ireland was a possibility.”

“You, on a computer willingly?”

“Anita's gotten much better with all the tech,” Nathaniel said.

“Hey, I've totally been won over to my smartphone, and it's a little computer.”

Edward chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“I wanted to refresh myself on some of what I remembered after I talked to you the first time. Some of the Irish believe that the great potato famine and the British occupation not only lost them artists and writers, but their native-born psychics and witches, so they're pretty welcoming to anyone who's talented, except necromancers, apparently. Back when they let writers out of income tax, they did the same thing for anyone with a demonstrable psychic or magical ability.”

“That last is news to me.”

“It wasn't pertinent to you, personally, and except for me I'm not sure you even work with people who are gifted enough to care.”

“True.”

“Marshal Kirkland raises the dead, too,” Nathaniel said.

“Larry and I are two of the very few with any demonstrable psychic talent.”

“I know your gifts help you survive and be better at your job. How do the rest survive without any psychic gifts?” Nathaniel asked.

“We manage,” Edward said dryly.

“I didn't mean you. You're Edward.”

I actually understood what he meant by that. “You know he's right; you are Edward and that's better than magic any day.”

“I just always assumed that Edward was just bad-ass enough not to need magic, but that everyone else had some.”

“Nope,” I said, “there's me, Larry, and Denis-Luc St. John, Manny before he retired, a couple on the West Coast and one on the East Coast, but everyone else is psychic free.”

“Seems like it should be the other way around,” Nathaniel said.

“People didn't trust psychics when the business started,” Edward said. “It was too close to being a witch, and a lot of the old-time vampire hunters hunted witches, too.”

“We had a coven that went rogue a few years back here in St. Louis. They didn't have an order of execution on them, but the police called me in to consult anyway.”

“When the preternatural citizens go off the reservation, who you gonna call?” Edward asked.

“Us.”

“Us,” he said.

“So the Irish want us to bring preternaturals over so they can see if they want to integrate them into their new homegrown unit—is that it?”

“Something like that,” he said. I would remember later how he said it, and that I didn't question it at the time.

“This seems almost too good to be true, Edward. It gets us around the no-guns rule, the badges being American. Are they really going to let us bring in a bunch of nonpolice armed for big bad vampires?”

“That's the deal, though I did have to promise them we wouldn't make too big of a public mess.”

“If it goes well, no one will know we were there,” I said.

“That's what I told them.”

“You said you had some contacts in Ireland. This is a hell of a lot more than just ‘some contacts,' Edward.”

“I told you, we got lucky. One of the men in charge of putting the new unit together owed me a favor.”

I had a moment to think about what it took to owe Edward a favor. I'd owed him one once upon a time, and he'd called me to New Mexico to hunt a monster that was doing worse than just killing people. He and I had both almost died that time.