Tango. A strange name, but one she had seen somewhere before. She tried to remember where. It came back to her. A notice on the message board by Hopeful’s door. She turned her head to look for it, but the bright blue paper was gone. Someone had torn it down. There hadn’t been much on it anyway: Tango looking for a man named Riley, Riley’s description, leave a message with Todd at the bar. Not that Tango was likely to have much luck finding her friend. Missing-persons rates were always high in cities held by the Sabbat. Police success rates in solving missing-persons cases were usually very low.
There was something odd about the woman herself as well. There was an intensity about her, the odor of her body and her blood transcending smell and becoming an almost tangible energy in spite of her obvious exhaustion. An energy that made Miranda think a hand run through Tango’s hair would create the snap and crackle of static electricity. An energy that made her own undead veins hum and vibrate. She set the beers down on the pack’s table. “The bartender is going to leave at one-thirty. We’ll go out a bit earlier, wait, and follow him home.”
Blue looked at the beer with faint amusement. “What are we supposed to do with these?”
“Pretend you’re having a good time. It’s called Old
Nick’s Red.”
“Cool!” Tolly picked up his beer and chugged it back in one very long swallow, then smacked his lips. “Disappointing.” He belched thunderously.
Matt shivered with disgust. “Try to make it to the bathroom before that comes back up.” He raised an eyebrow as Miranda took her glass and turned back to the bar. “And where are you going?”
“I haven’t fed yet tonight.”
“That little number that just came in?” Matt nodded. “Not my cup of tea, but probably the only person in this place that you’d stand a good chance with.”
“Thank you, Matt.” She took his beer and shoved it over to Tolly. “Here,” she said sweetly, “I don’t think Matt’s going to want this. Why don’t you have another?”
She walked away from the table before she could witness the effects of Tolly’s drinking. It wouldn’t be pretty.
Tango had moved away from the bar and stood at a counter, caught between a bunch of rowdy pretty boys and a pair of big, muscular men who were necking as if they were vampires themselves. The other woman was staring blankly at a television monitor mounted up near the ceiling. There was some kind of soft porn video playing, but Tango didn’t seem to be seeing it at all. Miranda caught the eye of one of the muscle men and dismissed him with a quick flick of her head. He pulled his partner away to another part of the bar. Miranda stepped in and took their spot next to Tango. For a few minutes she just stood there, pretending to sip her beer and watching the monitor silently.
“You know,” she said finally, “I just don’t understand what they see in this stuff.”
Tango blinked. “Sorry?”
“I don’t understand what they see in this stuff.” Miranda gestured toward the monitor. “It’s just mindless and repetitive. It’s the same thing, over and over again.” “So’s baseball.” Tango took a swallow of her beer, a black, tarry liquid with a thick head. “And you could see that,” she added, as the scene on the monitor changed to show a well-built man rubbing his crotch, “at a baseball game, too.”
Miranda laughed, half a put-on, half real appreciation of Tango’s joke. She held out her hand. “I’m Miranda.”
“Tango.”
“I know. I heard...” she fumbled for the bartender’s name, “Todd talking to you. And I saw your message when I came in tonight.”
Tango looked at her sharply for the first time. “Do you come here often? I’m looking for a friend: red hair, glasses, geeky....”
“Named Riley. No, sorry. I saw the notice, but that’s it. I hope you find him.”
“Too bad somebody pulled the notice down.” Tango frowned as she took another drink.
The short woman almost sounded paranoid. “Maybe they know him,” suggested Miranda.
“But they didn’t go to Todd.” Tango sighed. Miranda took the opportunity to move a little closer to Tango, enjoying the thrill of the hunt. “You’re not from Toronto, are you?”
“No.” Tango put her glass down. Miranda waited for her to say something else, then prompted her gently.
“Where are you from?”
“Alberta originally. Red Deer. Most recently, though, San Francisco.”
“Nice city.” Miranda tried to dredge up long-ago memories of a trip there with her old high school band. “I love the trolley cars.”
“Cable cars,” Tango corrected. “It is a nice place. Very different from Toronto.”
Miranda put her glass to her mouth, letting a little beer wash past her lips then back out. The taste was nauseating. “So what brings you here?”
“Oh, holidays. And looking for Riley, now.” She laughed quietly and bitterly.. “I just can’t seem to get away from this city.”
“Toronto has that effect on some people.”
That made Tango snort with sour amusement. She picked up her glass again and raised it in a toast. “Then here’s to Toronto the Good!” She tossed back the last few mouthfuls of beer.
Miranda smiled. Tango was going to be easy prey. The smell of the small woman tickled Miranda’s nostrils. Tango’s skin was quite pale, and she could imagine the rich blood that flowed just beneath it. She forced herself to stop thinking about that before the lust for blood overcame her in the middle of the bar. “Let me buy you another,” she offered.
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on. You look like you need it.”
Tango sighed. “Give it up.” She looked straight ahead, staring at the monitor again. “Believe me, I wouldn’t agree with you.”
“What do you mean?” Miranda fought to keep suspicion off her face.
Still staring ahead, Tango brought two fingers up to her mouth, crooked them, and wiggled them in front of her canines. Fangs. Miranda’s own mouth closed sharply. Tango nodded. “You wouldn’t like me. My blood does all kinds of nasty things to vampires. Hallucinations, especially.”
Miranda hissed. The other woman was no more human than she was! The odd energy that clung to her should have told the vampire that. She took a step back, wondering how long it would take for the rest of the pack to reach her if she needed them. “What are you?”
“Stop that.” Tango didn’t even turn. “I’m not going to put a stake through your heart, if that’s what you’re afraid of. I’m a Kithain.” Miranda tried to place the term, but couldn’t. Tango snorted, a little bit contemptuously. “A changeling. Are you Camarilla or Sabbat?”
Miranda bit back a snarl. “Sabbat. How did you know?”
“I’ve been around. Vampires aren’t that hard to spot close up if you know what to look for. For starters, you’re not actually breathing, and you’re not really drinking your beer. And the two guys who were here disappeared awfully conveniently for you to move in.” She paused, then said, “If you promise not to try and hypnotize me, or whatever it is you do, I’ll turn around.”
“Why should I?” Miranda growled.
“Mostly because I’d like to talk to you. And it’s not easy to do that when I can’t look at you.”
Miranda glanced toward the back of the bar where Tolly, Matt and Blue sat. They were out of sight, hidden by an outthrust wall and an intervening pillar. “All
right, 1 promise.”
“Thank you.” Tango turned around and looked up at her. The changeling was several inches shorter than she was. Miranda looked her over appraisingly. Aside from the strange smell of energy that she had, there was nothing to distinguish her from a normal human. Miranda wondered what Matt would sense around the small woman. She had heard fragmentary stories about changelings and what happened to vampires who drank their blood. Most went mad. Some died in lunatic raving. A few... a few ended up doing things that were simply impossible. One vampire had supposedly ended up wandering around in broad daylight, drunk on changeling blood and firmly believing that it was nighttime. The strange thing was that he had survived. He had walked a full day in sunlight and come back to his wits at dusk with no worse damage than a suntan.
Tango withstood her scrutiny for several minutes before asking sarcastically, “Haven’t you ever seen a Kithain before?”
“No,” Miranda admitted. “You’re the first.” “Really?” She seemed mildly surprised. “There’s a whole court of Kithain in Toronto.”
Miranda blinked. “Where?” She could hardly believe it when Tango said Yorkville. “Our pack goes through there all the time.”
“We’re sort of like vampires. You have to know what you’re looking for. So...” Tango considered Miranda with equal scrutiny. “Did you have anything to do with this murder last night?”
“No,” Miranda lied coolly, suddenly mistrusting the changeling. “You’ve heard the reports, haven’t you? He was beaten to death. Would a vampire do that?”
Tango was silent for a moment. “I suppose not. It just seems like an odd coincidence for you to be here....” “One of my pack is gay. He likes to hang out in Hopeful.” Part truth, part lie. Matt preferred to hang out around the frat boys that he fed on.
“Does he?” Desperation showed in Tango’s face. “Did he see my notice when you came in? Does he know Riley or a blond guy he might have been with here?”
“I don’t think so.” Another lie, of course, since Matt didn’t really know Hopeful. In fact, he had laughed at the notice. Tango’s mouth twisted in disappointment. Miranda almost felt sorry for her. “Who is Riley?”
“A friend. Another Kithain. A pooka, if that means anything to you. He’s got himself mixed up in something and vanished.” She looked into the bottom of her empty glass. “He’s been kidnapped.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” A smaller lie, but still a lie. Kidnapping and vanished people were commonplace among the Sabbat. Miranda supposed that she had become used to the idea. She had been kidnapped the night she was made into a vampire; she was probably still on a missing-persons list buried somewhere in a police file. “I hope you find him. Any clues?”
“Maybe.” Tango rapped her glass against the top of the counter. The overwhelming frustration that had been on her face when she first entered Hopeful returned. “I just can’t get to them.”
“Police records? Computer files?”
“The airport.” Tango bared her teeth angrily. “Did you know that the fucking Toronto airport is not in Toronto?” She lifted her glass and hurled it against the nearest wall. “It’s not in Toronto!” she screamed.
Hopeful was suddenly silent. Everyone turned to stare at Tango as she stood white-faced and rigid, glaring at the broken glass. Miranda stared at it for a moment as well, fighting down the instinct to respond to violence with violence. She put her hand on Tango’s arm. “Let’s go outside.”
“No,” Tango hissed through clenched teeth. “I’m staying here. I’m fine.”
Miranda smiled at the bar staff who were coming to investigate. “It’s okay,” she told them. “We’re leaving. Right, Tango?” The Kithain didn’t respond. “Right?” asked Miranda again.
The changeling took a deep breath. “No,” she said with icy control. “I’m fine.” She pulled away.
Miranda grabbed for her. “I really think it’s time to
go-”
“No.” Abruptly, Tango spit twice onto the stained floor of the bar. The energy around her changed, as though suddenly condensing into her body. Her arm under Miranda’s hand seemed to shift. It felt tougher, harder, tight bands of muscle moving under leathery skin. Tango pushed Miranda away with a strength that surprised the taller woman for a moment. Tango wasn’t the only one who was stronger than she looked, however. Miranda fought back with vampire strength, trying to force the changeling to turn around. If she could, all she would have to do would be to look into her eyes and the fight would be over. They would be out of the bar in moments. But Tango was fast as well as strong. Miranda tried to grab for her twice and missed. She wondered what it all looked like to the humans in Hopeful. Just two women struggling?
Then Tango made a mistake, driving her elbow back into Miranda’s abdomen, a move that would have knocked the air out of a human and left her on the floor, gasping for breath. It didn’t bother Miranda in the slightest, but she feigned weakness, letting her grip on the changeling go slack. Tango started to pull away... and Miranda slid around her, got one hand under her chin, and forced her face up. Tango had beautiful, sharp brown eyes. “Outside!” Miranda ordered her. “Go outside!”
Tango’s will was fiercely strong. Miranda’s was stronger. The changeling’s eyes didn’t go distant the way that the bartender’s had, but her body obeyed Miranda’s commands. Tango turned and walked out of Hopeful. The bar staff stood aside to let her pass. Miranda went after her. “Sorry,” she apologized to the staff.
“Glasses are cheap,” said Todd. “Make sure she gets home all right.”
Tango was waiting for Miranda on the steps of the bar. She was outside, but that was as far as Miranda’s orders had taken her. “You promised not to do that!” she growled roughly.
“I’m sorry, but you didn’t leave me much choice. Did you want to make a scene — or more of a scene?”
“I’ve never known Sabbat vampires to turn away from making a scene before.”
Miranda paused. Why had she stopped Tango from causing a disturbance? It would have been nothing to the pack. The others would probably have enjoyed it, in fact. Except, she decided, that a fight would have compromised the secrecy that Solomon wanted. A brawl would probably have meant a call to the police and the pack’s faces linked to Hopeful. Yes, that was it. Solomon would be pleased with her foresight. She faced down Tango’s angry glare. “The Sabbat knows when not to fight.” Miranda walked down the steps to the sidewalk, motioning Tango after her. “Come on.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
Miranda looked back up at the changeling stubbornly rooted by the door. “You can’t go back inside. Unless you want to stay where you are now, you have to come down sooner or later.” She sat down on the steps of the restaurant, now closed, next door. “What’s the big deal about the airport? It’s only in Mississauga. You can get a taxi there.”
“You don’t understand.” Tango was tense for a moment longer, then her head fell forward and her shoulders slumped. She came down the steps of the bar and seated herself beside Miranda. “I can’t leave Toronto. I’ve been cursed.”