Other Places 3: Detours (23 page)

Darla
smiled at him, then, after eating some meat for a while, started humming under
her breath. It resonated through the air and outside of her mind, meaning she
was doing it on purpose, so that he'd pick up on it.

Kumbaya.
Meaning he was being a touchy-feely hippie, no doubt. Zack smiled and didn't
let any hint of annoyance show at all.

After
all, he was doing
exactly
that, and knew it.

In
a very real way, Lisa was his property, and while Darla got that, and
understood it on a fundamental level, Lisa would have a tiny problem with it,
if she figured it out. So, Zack did what all good Demons would have in a case
like that.

Lied
his behind off.

One
of the great things about Mirror Him having become part of him so fully, Zack
decided, was that now when he wanted to make internally snarky remarks, they
were directed at himself only about half as much as before. Instead he snarked
at everyone else.

The
show at the club wasn't starting until eleven, which meant that they had hours
to kill before then. That, according to Darla, meant time for him to do some
baking, while running Lisa
and
her around on errands.

It
wasn't enough that the woman have clean clothing, after all. No, she needed to
be outfitted in Milan. That meant going to the stores directly, without being
noticed, since walking with a Human would take too much time. Or a Mage, which
was different, but close enough that it didn't mean anything at all. While
getting back in time for the five cakes, all large sheet things, to be made
correctly. Then he had to put out five kinds of frosting for them, because his
mentor wanted variety.

It
wasn't until she demanded that he go to an all night Wal-Mart, in Carolina, for
some raspberries, that he understood what she was really doing. He had cakes
after all, and while it was true that working on things like that wasn't a
horrible plan in general, he already had the skills needed down, pretty well.
Most bakeries would have hired him.

The
plan though was to keep him too busy to think about what had been said earlier.
Not because he was too stupid to work out part of what it meant, but because he
couldn't block his thoughts yet. It was, he realized very clearly, an attempt
to keep him so annoyed with her over the busy work that he wouldn't bother
considering anything else.

So,
instead of doing that, he tried to work on mental shielding, while he baked and
felt distinctly refreshed, and not annoyed at all. After all, being moody
wouldn't make the cakes any better, would it?

It
was hard work. Not because shielding in the main was hard. There were thousands
of ways to do it that could work. Simply distracting yourself, as he was doing,
was enough to keep people from casually taking your thoughts, according to the
info he had. It was simply that he needed to be better than that. He needed to
be able to prevent anyone from just stripping his mind bare, or get good enough
that it would be really hard for them to manage at least.

It
probably wasn't possible for him to beat, say Finias, if the man was actually
going to force the issue. Tarsus either, simply due to how good he was at
everything. But Darla, or Xenses was doable, he thought. With practice. Keeley
too, for now, though after she grew up a bit, that might end up being harder.
True, Darla could make a
machine
that did it, and he might fail then, or
Xenses might manage to torture information out of him, since he was
particularly good at things like that, but just read his mind?

That
might well be stopped.

So,
between his opening a node to a Wal-Mart in a different state and sneaking them
all into place, and going off at irregular intervals to Italy, Zack managed to
build a rather complicated, but not at all delicate, mental shield. Constructed
carefully, out of time itself. It wasn't unique, since it was actually copied
from the design of a magical device that Darla had made a few hundred years
before, but he managed it in about five minutes, which wasn't
that
bad.
It was probably too hard for most people to do, but it worked into his special
area of skill. So for him it was nearly simple.

Darla
didn't even notice it at first, until she started talking to him, after coming
back from his bedroom with Lisa, who looked...

Hot.
Really nice, actually.

True
the dress had cost ten times too much, and her make-up was hiding more than a
few break out spots on her face, but overall it really worked for her. She was
tiny now, from all the drug use, and had probably never been all that huge, so
she kind of fit that too thin model look that was still popular. Her hair had
been styled too, though it was short enough that it just looked like her normal
hair, but a bit puffier.

"Nice.
You'd get
all
the girls, if not for the fact that you'll be watched like
a hawk all night. On the good side, you look good enough that when I walk in
with both of you on my arms no one will think I'm gay." He grinned.
"Unless the press is there. I've heard some rumors to that end."

He
really had. Then, he was also linked with Judy Swan, the actress, even if
they'd never actually met. That reminded him that the woman hadn't called yet,
which, probably wasn't that big of a deal. She might be having second thoughts,
or just be busy still. Or, and it was just possible, she might have set
something up at work, since he had people for that now. No one had called him
at home, so he decided it either hadn't taken place, or it would happen in the
morning sometime.

Darla
looked at him and then reached out and patted Lisa on the behind. Oh, she was
pretending to smooth a wrinkle there, but that wasn't the case at all. Lisa
would think it was about her, and the other girl wanting her again, or maybe
that she wanted to claim her as property, since they'd had sex.

Zack
knew that it was meant to get his attention, and that she wasn't trying to goad
him really, just distract him enough that she could get him thinking. Which he
was, but, if his new shielding was holding, she couldn't hear at all. His
thoughts, the instant they left his brain, would end up going instantly into a
fifth dimensional place with no room for anything heavier than that. There
they'd dissipate, slowly, over the course of nano-seconds.

But
it got her to stare, and finally arch and eyebrow.

"Not
too poorly done. The Smith's wall?" That referenced a Greater Demon that
worked in metals, most of the time. One of the better ones, but not one that
Zack had met. The information was all there though, in, or rather around, his
head. His "wall" was a complex mental construct that used imagery,
magical power and flow patterns to make a nearly impenetrable mental space.

That
was a technique that he'd rejected almost instantly, because while not that
hard, and pretty effective, it was prone to collapse if a powerful enough
person tried to rip into a given brain.

He
looked at her blankly, and was tempted to pretend not to understand her.
Luckily, he managed to resist that, since making her mad over stupid things
wouldn't help at all.

"The
Technician's time displacement." He waited, but it didn't take long at all
for her to start probing at him, mentally. He could feel it, after all, but no
thoughts escaped, since, as was the point, they weren't there to read.

She
gave a low whistle, and a half snort, which wasn't all that ladylike.

"Well,
better than I thought! It's stable too. Are you planning to let the cakes cool,
while we're gone? We need to leave soon, since we might have to wait in
line."

It
was the plan, since frosting them before that would be foolish. Of course he
had to turn a lot of raspberries into a strained filling first and then change,
but it wouldn't take long.

"Call
it ten minutes?"

She
nodded, but looked at his clothing, as if she didn't think it was good enough
for the club. It was true enough, but he wasn't going to slop red syrupy goop
all over his good clothing, was he? Troy would have his head, if he did. For a
straight guy he was pretty fussy when it came to clothing and looking good.

It
meant being five minutes later than he'd said, and even that required him to
move at speeds that would have made Bey clap in joy to see. Not that they were
late or anything. The club hadn't even opened the doors, and there was a very
long line that wound back and forth, blocking them from going in. Darla just
took her small hand bag, and walked up to the front, even as a few people
grumbled at her for cutting in line. Lisa seemed nervous about it, but no one
tried to really stop them. At the door they were met with a large and very
powerfully built bouncer.

Kevin.

He
winked at Zack, actually recognizing him. The man might not know a Greater
Demon from a hole in the ground, or that his employment had him dealing
directly with Vampires on literally a daily basis, but he recognized a friend
when he saw one.

"Mr.
Hartley!" He said it loudly enough that the people behind them went
silent, so they could listen, rather than complaining about them being there.
"Are these your friends, Darla and Lisa? Edom put you on the list, and you
have tickets waiting inside. We haven't opened the doors yet. Let me call in
about that?" He touched the black piece at his ear, but didn't turn it on,
as if asking for actual permission.

Which
was about killing time, no doubt, so that whatever was needed could be set up.

Before
the man could say anything at all, or tap the little button that would turn
things on, there was a bit of a commotion, as a black limo drove up. It
certainly looked important, but the nicely dressed people inside weren't the
band, but other Vampires.

The
Council to be exact, except for Bey, who managed to stroll up and stand next to
him, wearing a tuxedo. He looked a bit funny, and was very short, but no one
noticed him there at all.

Kevin
looked baffled, getting that something wasn't exactly correct suddenly, and
froze in place, not moving.

Darla
patted his arm at least, which looked like she was trying to flirt their way
in, as far as the crowd went. She leaned in and whispered to the man, her voice
to soft to hear.

"These
people are very important, and friends of Edom's. You should call in that
they've arrived."

Zack
watched as Marissa and Gene were so totally overshadowed by Harland that no one
noticed that someone that looked ten was about to take their spot in a night
club. They were all dressed up very finely, in real suits and ties. Except
Marissa, who was in a short skirt with fishnet stockings. That and a very nice
looking blouse.
He
was dressed in a nice purple jacket with a black silk
shirt himself, and looked like most of the people around them, but suddenly
felt a little underdressed.

Of
course if he'd tried to pull the black tie look off, he'd have seemed like he
was going to the prom. These people just looked...

Real.
Like they belonged and were clearly who everyone was waiting for.

Kevin
tried to call it in, but got someone inside that wasn't Edom, it seemed.

"I
was told that these people are very important? I... No, I haven't checked. They
came in a limo, I..." He made a bit of a face and rolled his eyes. Then he
addressed Harland. "Sorry, my shift manager wants me to check the list,
may I have your names?"

Marissa
moved in and touched the large and obviously nervous, man's arm, and smiled.
Prettily even, with no hint to her eyes that she wanted to drink his blood in
particular at all.

"I
am Marissa. With me are Gene, Harland and Bey. We were invited by Lenore
Hawthorn?"

Which
meant absolutely nothing to Kevin, who only worked at the club, not anything
that Lenore was involved in at all. They also weren't on the list, since Edom
probably didn't even know they were going to come. It would have been tense,
really, if Zack had been bothering to feel anything like that at all. Instead
he just looked at the man and winked.

Then
he raised his voice, hoping that he'd be heard by
someone
with
extra-sensitive hearing.

"The
Council is here, so should be seen to. Quickly." He didn't make it a
question, and less than a second later, a familiar face was at the door,
opening it from the inside.

Rebekah.

It
meant that someone was listening at least. She looked enough like Harland that
Kevin got the idea. Or
an
idea.

"Oh,
you're with the band! Right! I should have known that. Duh. Sorry, let
me..." He tapped his ear. "With the band. Friends of Rebekah...
right, up front would be good. Thanks Doug."

Then
he gestured, smiling hugely.

"There
we go. Sorry about the mix up there. Are you all sitting together?" He
looked at the group, and then landed on Gene, who really did seem far too
young, at least for a normal night. It was clear he didn't know what to do, but
Zack gestured to them all, since otherwise things would probably seem rude.

"That's
right. They're with us and of course the other way around. At least for the
evening. Hi, Rebekah." She was nervous, and ready to run away, since dying
wasn't on her plan for the night and there were too many important and
dangerous people being bugged at the moment, but she managed a smile, and
reached out to take his hand.

"Zack!
So good of you to come. I'd heard you might, but Troy didn't know when you'd
get here. He said to tell you that they had someone get sick, so he has to work
the bar? We have non-alcoholic drinks for everyone in this group." Which
meant blood.