Read Pomegranates full and fine Online

Authors: Unknown Author

Tags: #Don Bassingthwaite

Pomegranates full and fine (27 page)

Tango shook her hand off and turned to look at her. The other woman’s expression wasn’t as blank as Miranda had thought. It was merely still, like the calm eye of a hurricane. Deep rage smoldered just beneath Tango’s skin. “Get the man from the back yard and bring him inside.”

“Tango...”

“Do it!” Tango spat. “If Arthurs fooled you into thinking he was asleep, he probably lied about this Indigo guy as well. He knew something. Maybe his men know it, too.” She turned again and walked on. “We’re not leaving until I’ve got something. I’m too close to getting some answers about Riley.” Miranda caught the flash of metal in Tango’s hand. Her knife. The changeling was trembling.

No. What if Arthurs’ men did know something? Miranda doubted they were going to be able to resist interrogation — hers or Tango’s — the way that Arthurs had. She grabbed Tango to stop her....

And found herself flying suddenly through the air to slam hard into the ground. Tango was crouching over her, knife high. Her teeth were bared in a ferocious grimace. “Don’t try that again. And don’t try to hypnotize me, because the first thing I’ll go for will be your eyes.”

Miranda froze, more out of shock than anything else. “Tango?” For a moment, the changeling looked more like the inhuman creature that she was than the small woman she seemed to be. Wild, primal. Her eyes were burning. Breath was whistling sharply between her teeth. Her muscles were straining.

For the first time since her Embrace, Miranda felt really, truly afraid for her life. Her body was cold with a fright that went beyond the chill of natural death.

“Tango?” she asked again, this time in a whisper. Tango blinked, staring down at her, realizing what she was doing. “Are you all right?”

The changeling stayed where she was for a moment longer, ready to strike. Then, slowly, her knife-hand came down, falling to her side. She closed her eyes. “Get me out of here, Miranda.” She slipped off the vampire. “Get me out of here before I kill somebody.” Miranda didn’t need a second invitation. Instinct prompted her to ask about Arthurs’ men, one asleep in the backyard, one wounded inside, and what the police would say when they finally arrived, but she restrained herself. There were hundreds of unsolved crimes in Toronto, thanks to the Sabbat. One more would make no difference. And if Tango was suddenly willing to forego questioning Arthurs’ men, Miranda wasn’t about to remind her of them. This time it was she who led Tango through back yards away from the house on Hillock Street, moving as quickly and quietly as possible, using the deepest of shadows to shroud their escape.

They were practically back to the car before Miranda realized that she had done it — she had kept Tango from finding out about the Bandog, and Solomon’s role in kidnapping Riley. Her secret was safe, at least for now.

She should have been happy.

* * *

Tango leaned her head against the cool glass of the car window. Jubilee was gone, and with him her best chance of finding Riley. Now that the mercenary knew she was looking for him, he would hide, and that would make finding him again very difficult. Maybe impossible. There were still his henchmen, of course. If they knew anything, even the faintest scrap of a clue, it could help her track Jubilee down. But she wasn’t sure if she wanted to question them. She was afraid to. Afraid of what she might do.    •

After all these years, it was happening again. She was losing control.

Her anger had almost overcome her several times in the last few days. At Duke Michael’s court when she had first arrived in Toronto. In Hopeful, the night she had met Miranda. In Atlanta Hunter’s apartment. She had restrained herself then, though; restrained herself or been restrained by Miranda. Tonight had been much worse. She didn’t remember taking the vampire down.

She barely remembered hissing that terrible threat at her. She remembered all too well what she had been willing to do to Jubilee’s henchmen, however.

Instead of a breaking-and-entering situation, the police would have been investigating a double murder. She had seen a couple of police cruisers, lights flashing and sirens wailing, racing toward Hillock Street as Miranda drove calmly out of the neighborhood. Someone, it seemed, had called the police very quickly.

The frustration of the search for Riley was taking its toll on her.

The character of the buildings that flashed past the window began to change from the neatly spaced homes of the suburbs to the tight-packed buildings of the city. They left Scarborough behind and returned to Toronto proper. They were driving between the old towers of the downtown core before Miranda spoke to her. “What now?”

What now, indeed? Tango closed her eyes. It was late. She was tired, she was frustrated. She should go back to Riley’s apartment and sleep. Tomorrow she would decide w'hat to do next in her search for the pooka. Tonight, though... tonight she couldn’t face the thought of going back to that apartment, knowing that she had failed. Knowing what was lurking so close to the surface of her soul. She would have to go back eventually, but she needed to wind down first. Somewhere with people. Somewhere she could relax and let herself drift. She opened her eyes again and turned to Miranda. The vampire was looking at her as well, the light of passing streetlamps washing in waves over her face.

“Can we go somewhere for a drink?” Tango asked her. She winced a bit as she realized her mistake and added hastily, “I mean, somewhere I can get a drink and you can...”

“I fed a little from the man at Jubilee’s house. I’m all right. I’d enjoy going out.” Miranda hesitated. “But not back to Hopeful.”

“No. You’re right.” Tango didn’t feel like going to Hopeful either. After Todd’s murder and after the riot she had witnessed on College Street, she didn’t want to go back to Hopeful again. “Pick somewhere else.” Miranda glanced at the dashboard clock. “It’s almost too late to make last call in most places. Do you have a problem with after-hours clubs?”

“No.” Tango sat back. “Did 1 tell you that I manage a big nightclub in San Francisco?”

“No.”

“Have you ever heard of Pan’s?”

“Not really.”

Tango smiled. “That’s good. Pm tired of people who have.”

Miranda smiled as well. “I hope you like this place then. It’s called Club Haze. I’ve been there before with the pack. Hunting. It will be nice to go casually.”

They drove up to just north of the downtown core and parked in a lot where the attendant, chatting on a telephone, virtually ignored them. Club Haze was down the street, just a door, an awning, and a flight of stairs going up. There was no sign. By day, it would have been practically invisible. By night, with the door open, colored light and music drifting out, and a tough-looking doorman controlling the flow of patrons, it was hard to miss. The doorman eyed Tango’s and Miranda’s clothes critically as they approached. Neither was dressed in what could really be called club fashion, except that they were wearing black. Miranda just caught the man’s gaze, however, and he let them past without even asking for cover.

The club was much more impressive inside: cool, dark, and decorated in a kind of industrial minimalist style. The tables had brushed steel tops that reminded Tango of the main bar at Pan’s. The music was good. There was a smallish, slightly sunken dance floor with cold blue and white lights. Cigarette smoke was a thick cloud in the air. It wasn’t clear whether it was the smoke or the glare of harsh light on bare metal that gave rise to the club’s name. Club Haze’s only drawback was that it was in Yorkville. The very eastern end of Yorkville, admittedly, almost on the corner of Yonge Street, but still in Yorkville. And the last thing Tango wanted right now was to run into another Kithain.

“Miranda...” she began, but the vampire was already sitting down at a table overlooking the dance floor. She had pulled a chair out for Tango. The nocker bit back her words and sat. A waitress came over and took their orders. Tango ordered a pint of Toby. To her surprise, Miranda ordered the same thing. She gave the vampire a questioning glance. Miranda shrugged.

“You can have mine once you’ve finished yours.” “Thanks.”

The music in the club was at a good level, loud enough to dance to, but not so loud that conversation was impossible. Even so, Tango was silent, watching the dance floor and waiting for her beer to come. Miranda was silent, too. When the beer finally came, Miranda reached into her pocket. Tango stopped her. “Let me.” “At least let me pay for mine.”

“No. You’re not going to drink it, are you? Besides, I owe you for what I... said earlier.”

That ended Miranda’s objections. Her mouth closed. Tango paid for the beer, and the waitress went away. The two women fell into silence again, but only for a moment this time. Tango took a sip of her beer and said, “I really am sorry.”

Miranda shook her head. “That’s okay. I don’t blame you. You thought you had a lead and it died. You must be under a lot of pressure.”

“More than you know.” She stared into the dark depths of her beer.

“What? You mean that curse you told me about? The one that keeps you from leaving Toronto?”

“No.” Tango flushed. She shouldn’t have said anything. “There’s more than that.” She reached out and took Miranda’s hand. “Thank you for helping me, Miranda. 1 know you said that you didn’t look on this as a matter of favors anymore, but if there’s ever anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

“It’s all right.” The vampire smiled, almost guiltily it seemed at first, then broadly and happily. She gripped Tango’s hand in return. “You’re welc—”

“Tango!”

Suddenly, Sin was dropping down into a crouch beside their table. Miranda started, hissing. Tango had to force herself to remain still and not react violently to the dark-haired sidhe’s sudden appearance. It would have been too easy to call up her knife. Sin was smiling. Tango took a deep breath to calm herself. “What do you want, Sin?” she asked him sourly.

The unfriendliness in her tone went over his head completely. “Nothing. I’m here on a date.” He w'aved at a woman sitting at a table a little ways away. She waved back and smiled. “I think I may be able to work an epiphany out of her.”

“Good for you.”

Sin’s smile faded this time. He considered her and Miranda. “I was talking to Ruby today. She said you had been by and that you were still looking for Riley. Any luck?”

“Not really, no.”

Sin pushed himself to his feet. “Ooo-kay. How are plans for Highsummer going?”

“Ask Epp.” Tango gave him a thin smile. “Shouldn’t you be going? I wouldn’t want your date to get cold.” Sin’s jaw tightened in anger. He walked away without saying another word. Tango turned back to Miranda. “Let’s go.”

“What? Why?” The vampire looked confused. “He was another changeling, wasn’t he?”

“He’s a sidhe.” Tango sighed. “I’m sorry, Miranda. I just don’t want to be around other Kithain right now.” Miranda arched her eyebrows. “Well, you aren’t. I don’t think he’s going to come near you for a long time. What did he mean by ‘plans for Highsummer,’ and who is Epp?”

“Can I tell you another time, Miranda?”

“Can’t you tell me now? Please?” She caught Tango’s arm and asked insistently, “Does it involve Riley? Shouldn’t I know about it?”

Tango looked around. Sin and his date had moved away. She couldn’t see them anymore. Out of sight, out of mind, she supposed. Maybe she could stand to stay at Club Haze as long as he wasn’t around her. She glanced at Miranda hesitantly. “I guess you should.” She picked up her beer again and began to tell the vampire the whole story about Riley, Duke Michael and Epp. By the time she was finished, she had started on Miranda’s beer, and the vampire was gazing grimly off into space.

“I don’t think,” Miranda said, “that I would like Epp very much.”

“That’s the way boggans tend to be. They’re the original anal retentives. There used to be a rumor that Freud either knew a boggan or was one himself. Sidhe are — sidhe. How else do you describe them?” Tango sipped at the beer disconsolately. She had hoped that telling the whole story to another person would make her feel better, but it hadn’t. She felt worse than before, much more aware of how hopeless the situation was. Riley had been missing for four days now, and if someone like Jubilee Arthurs was involved in his disappearance, chances were good that Riley was dead by now. Even if he was, though, she had to know more, and it didn’t seem likely that she would.

At least telling the story to Miranda had given her a chance to get a grip on her emotions again. She felt calmer now. Even if the situation was hopeless, she was in control of herself once more.

“If 1 had been you...” Miranda shook her head. “I probably would have torn Epp apart. Duke Michael, too.” Tango jerked suddenly, choking on a mouthful of beer. Miranda blinked and grimaced. “Sorry.”

“No.” Tango gasped for air. “That’s okay.” Maybe she wasn’t quite as in-control as she thought.

“I guess it’s just what a vampire would have done.”

“Possibly.”

“I mean, we can be pretty vicious sometimes.”

Miranda glanced toward the dance floor. “Vampires have done some terrible things.”

Tango was aware of Miranda watching her out of the comer of her eye, as if she were testing Tango’s reactions and waiting for some kind of response. What did she want, assurances that Tango didn’t find her means of existence repulsive? The changeling almost laughed. Instead, she took another careful swallow of beer and steered the subject in another direction. “I remember one of the first vampires I ever met. It was in France, at an old chateau in the north. Her name was Elyse. She’d been dead for more than three hundred years, but she was still one of the most human...” Tango smiled, searching for another word. “She was a good person. She used to dream of going back to Versailles — she’d lived there during the reign of Louis XIV.”

Miranda looked at her directly for a moment. “She must have been Camarilla.”

“I didn’t ask. Does it matter? She didn’t apologize for what she had done.” Tango almost bit her tongue as she realized that the conversation had come back to Miranda’s topic, and that she had brought it there herself. Her smile twisted bitterly. “It was her nature. Like it’s a boggan’s nature to be nosy, or a sidhe’s nature to be arrogant, or a nocker’s nature to tinker with machines.”

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