Owl and the City of Angels (22 page)

“Hey?” I said.

He didn’t look up at first, just kept staring at the screen. “If you’ve come back to yell some more, please save it until I’m finished.”

I drew in a deep breath.
Come on, Alix—make the effort, open up
 . . . Who was I kidding? Rynn and I spent most of our time dancing around issues, and most of the time that was my fault.

Why did adult relationships have to be . . . well, work?

I pulled a chair up beside him. “On a scale from one to ten, how badly did I mess up this morning?”

Rynn glanced back up from the screen and lifted both eyebrows.

“All right. A scale from one to twenty, then?”

He swore under his breath and went back to checking his email—a lot of names I didn’t recognize, and most of them from the last couple of days. Odd. Rynn wasn’t much for email . . .

“I’m not playing this game with you, Alix. Not right now. I’ll probably say something I’ll regret, and I’m still set on only having one of us in the relationship who does that.”

Straight, simple gray eyes.

OK, first relationship, then everything else. “It’s not your fault,” I said.

Rynn glanced back up at me, not quite able to hide his surprise.

I shook my head. “What happened with Artemis? There’s no way you could have known exactly what was behind the door.”

He shook his head and went back to an email. “I could have warned you he’d done something like that before. Should have,” he started.

I shook my head. “No. You can’t.”

Again, he couldn’t quite mask the surprise.

“I don’t like it, and I doubt I’m going to stop asking questions, but I do grasp that most of whatever goes on in supernatural society isn’t anything I’m supposed to know about. I’m not an idiot.” Just dense, argumentative, and carrying a beacon over my head that broadcasts,
Please, supernaturals, come fuck up my life.

Rynn watched me, a frown touching his face. “Who are you, and what have you done with Alix?”

Ha. Very funny. “It’s called making an attempt.”

He held up his hands. “I’m not complaining—just surprised.”

I sat back in the chair. “At what point did I completely fuck this up?”

“The IAA or—”

“I don’t mean Egypt. You were right, that was all me. If I had been honest, we might have avoided that fiasco. I was mad at you and Nadya for vetoing my jobs and wanted to lash out, so instead of talking I figured I’d get the message across by raiding a temple. Good idea on paper, bad idea in practice, I take responsibility for that one. I meant this—us?”

He looked back at the screen before saying, “Caring about people and relationships comes with strings, ones you aren’t used to. And you still have issues with me not being human,” he added.

True . . .

“And more than half the time when I say something I’m right, and your ego doesn’t like being wrong.”

“Yeah, OK, I get the point.” Why does the universe force me into situations I don’t want to be in—like the whole supernatural thing? It’s as if there was a goddamn new monster at every turn. “And it’s not half—maybe forty, and I’m being generous.”

Rynn touched my mouth. “I’ve been keeping score. Closer to sixty.”

. . . Because you like lying to yourself, Owl, and the universe probably thinks you should stop. It might have a point.

“Only you would keep score,” I said.

A silence fell between us as he went back to checking his email. Finally he broke the quiet by saying, “It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment . . .”

It was my turn to look skeptical.

“All right, I have issues with some of your tactical judgments, but it’s not just the IAA anymore. There are things going on behind the scenes in my world that you’re not aware of.” The computer chimed with another email, stealing back Rynn’s attention. He swore as he read it and shook his head.

“Let’s just say Oricho’s stunt did more damage than any of us realized, and I fear there’s a chain reaction.” There was a defiance on his face I hadn’t seen before. “The thefts are related, though I don’t know how yet. You’re caught in the middle, but I’m finding more and more there’s very little I can do about it.”

We were back to dancing around facts again, but maybe there was a way to help without breaking any of the supernatural rules. Isn’t that what Hermes had hinted at? Actually getting into the game instead of screaming foul at it and Rynn? “Does it have anything to do with Artemis?” I asked.

Rynn snorted. “No, Artemis is the least of my worries . . .” Uncharacteristically Rynn trailed off. Again, we were delving into things I wasn’t supposed to know about.

There were two possible reactions for me here. One was to get indignant and point out that the rules sucked and weren’t fair, but I was starting to think Rynn maybe felt worse about leaving me in the dark about his problems than I’d considered.

“Alix? Whatever Artemis said, you’re not broken. Don’t ever forget that.”

I felt the knot from earlier dispel in my stomach. Maybe there was something I could do . . . provided I kept to things I was already aware about instead of getting pissed about the things that I was in the dark about.

“All right, let’s approach this differently than we have been.” I nodded at Rynn’s laptop. “Why don’t you tell me what you can?”

He was silent while he considered it. “What have you gleaned about our politics from the elf?” he said finally.

“You’d be surprised what I get out of the elf. He loses his temper every time I call the head elf a Grand Poobah.”

Rynn frowned but nodded. “I think I can work with that.”

9

Rock Stars and Other Assorted Denizens of L.A.

9:00 p.m., stealing artifacts; finally, my goddamned job

Rynn stopped the car just outside Artemis’s mansion.

“Are you certain you want to do this?” he asked me, mouth drawn in a tight line.

If I thought this whole plan over any more, chances were good I’d back out. I shook my head. “It’s settled. This might be the only chance to get inside without orchestrating an out-and-out B&E. And I’d rather get the artifacts now, while I still know where they are—provided I can trust Artemis not to kill me or throw the crazy drug at me.”

“You . . . can,” Rynn said, taking his time with each word. “Artemis is the black sheep of the family, but he’s never really hurt anyone. He’s not exactly what I’d call responsible, which is why you need to keep an eye on him. More likely he’ll get distracted and chase after some actress.”

Somehow that didn’t have the desired effect of calming my nerves . . .

We walked in silence across the front lawn, which was illuminated by motion-sensor floodlights. Somehow that just seemed . . . mundane for a supernatural. I mean, you pick those up at Home Depot.

“You scare me when you stop talking,” Rynn said. “It usually means you’re about to do something stupid.”

I didn’t have an answer to that one. Even Captain raised his head from my purse and meowed.

I glared at him. “You’re supposed to keep quiet.”

Rynn shook his head. “What happens if there’s a vampire at the party? You think you’ll be able to control him?”

Control Captain at a cocktail party with vampires? Hmmm, let’s think about that one. “He’s not there as a party favor, he’s there so I get a head start.” I’d noticed that while Captain only had the urge to search and destroy vampires, he showed some interest in most supernaturals we crossed paths with. I was hoping we could use it to our advantage.

Rynn shook his head. “This is going to be an unmitigated disaster, isn’t it?”

“Between you and me, the question in jobs like this isn’t if, it’s when. And hopefully not until I’m already running away with the artifacts.” And without a ballroom full of supernaturals on my tail . . .

From what Rynn had told me of the two supernatural factions—well, to be perfectly honest, there were really three, two minor and one major—it was kind of terrifying just how supernatural politics worked.

The two political sides consisted of two minorities with a few major backers—like, say, dragons. One side was dead set on keeping supernaturals away from mainstream human eyes; that was the faction Rynn, Lady Siyu, and Mr. Kurosawa belonged to. The other faction, again a minor but very vocal group, thought things were great back in the good old days, when supernaturals played warlord and kept humans at their feet . . . in some cases
on
their feet, as slippers. Political disputes were handled between the two minority sides. The side in charge was the one who could kick the shit out of the other side.

Everyone else? The vast majority of supernaturals, like Artemis and Daphne, didn’t like the idea of getting the shit kicked out of them by a bigger monster. They could care less who was in charge, so long as it didn’t affect their day-to-day activities and no one asked them to show up for a fight.

Putting aside the fact that minorities with big mouths ran the show, the other problem with this political system was obvious. As soon as one side weakened, the other made a play for power. Four heavy hitters for the “keep humans out of the loop” faction had been hit by Oricho’s scroll debacle a few months back, including Rynn, Mr. Kurosawa, Lady Siyu, and Oricho himself. Everyone else in North America got hit too, but according to Rynn, he and the other three took the brunt of it.

Rynn figured most supernaturals were watching to see where the tide ebbed and would flip their loyalties accordingly. Politics through apathy. Great.

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” Rynn said.

“Any other words of advice?”

“Yes. Watch out for Daphne. She’s dangerous. The less she notices you, the better. And whatever you do, don’t touch the items. That’s what Artemis is for.”

Well, there we were in agreement. Damn straight I wasn’t going to be touching any cursed items.

I’d have had a rebuttal to that effect, but we were at the door.

Before Rynn could knock, the door swung open. Much to my relief, no trace of incense. Artemis leaned out, dressed much as he had been the night before: leather pants paired with a black and gold torn T-shirt, and of course the prerequisite jewelry. I couldn’t be sure in the light, but it looked like the tips of his hair had been painted gold to match the shirt. He also wore a deep frown.

“Can we please get a fucking move on? As much as Daphne likes to show everyone a good time, I’d rather not have to spend all night there,” Artemis said, to Rynn more than me.

Rynn replied in supernatural, using what sounded to me like a harsh, chastising tone.

Artemis only rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes—I know. I have to bring her back, otherwise you’ll kick the shit out of me. Save the speech, I’ve heard it before,” Artemis said as he stepped past both of us and headed towards the garage, where a red convertible was waiting. “I’ll make sure I give your regards to Daphne—my guess is her response will be ‘fuck off.’ ”

Red Corvette? No, that wasn’t predictable at all . . .

I glanced up at Rynn and nodded at his retreating cousin. “How much can I really trust him?”

“It depends—”

“On?”

“How convinced he is I can still kill him.”

Great, just fucking fantastic.

Rynn kissed me quickly and whispered one last thing. “If you don’t get the artifacts by midnight, run. I’ll be outside, near the road.”

“Why midnight?”

He glanced back at Artemis. “Because that’s when the masks come off.”

“Please. People. I’m fucking bored over here!” Artemis yelled at us, gunning the engine for effect.

“Oh knock it off, I’m coming already,” I yelled back.

Artemis swore but shut up, which was the desired effect.

“Stay past midnight, I get turned into a pulverized pumpkin—got it.” I waved at Rynn and headed over to the car as Artemis gunned the engine again.

Captain mewed, and I gave the bag a pat. “You heard Rynn, Captain. Get ready for a disaster.”

I made a point of not talking to Artemis on the way over. I was watching for landmarks, in case I needed to get out fast. As we rounded onto a palm-tree-lined road that led up into the Hollywood Hills, Artemis broke our comfortably uncomfortable silence.

“I believe we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he said.

I made a somewhat agreeable sound but kept staring at the passing houses.

“You know, this would go a hell of a lot smoother if we spoke to each other,” he said.

“Un hunh? Is that so . . .” I wasn’t having much luck with landmarks. The houses and trees were all starting to blend together in the darkness.

“Sorry?” I said, realizing Artemis had asked me a question that required more than a one-word answer.

“I asked what my illustrious cousin had to say about me. Some of it had to be interesting.”

I shrugged. “Nothing that wasn’t in the tabloids already.”

Artemis laughed. “Well, at least they’re accurate.”

I snorted. “I highly doubt that.”

“I disagree. Best news reporting in the world. They’re not afraid to get their hands dirty hacking into email accounts, phone records, cameras in hotels. Brilliant reporting,” he said. “And you must have other, more interesting questions?”