Bloody Acquisitions (Fred Book 3) (19 page)

As the sound of their voices faded up the stairs, Asha and I looked at each other as we finally gave in to the sense of relief. The job was done, we were out of the pocket dimension, and we’d managed to make both our clients happy. Plus, we were going to be able to bill for several days of working hours at an overtime rate, which always made a hard job more palatable.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Asha asked.

“Get out of here as quickly as possible, before they get into another fight and we’re stuck in the bubble again?” I ventured.

“Damn, I was going to say a stiff glass of scotch, but that idea makes a lot more sense. Let’s pack it up.” Asha headed back over to the table, unplugging her laptop and stuffing the copies of the contracts into her bag. “You did good work, by the way, Fred. I’ll keep you in mind if I ever need an accounting consult again.”

“In this town, there aren’t many other options,” I warned her. “But I’d still appreciate the call. Hopefully, I’ll be able to take whatever you throw my way. Though, to be honest, my schedule is uncomfortably full these days.”

“Lot of demand and very little supply. Part of why I made the jump over to parahuman work,” Asha said. “But you know how business works, if you’re in that high of demand, just increase your rates. The smaller clients will fall away and you’ll be able to get more for your time.”

“I guess.” Asha was right, that was how any introductory business class would advise me to handle being so overworked. Then again, those classes hadn’t gotten to meet and interact with all the parahumans I’d helped. Most of them didn’t have money like the Clovers or Richard. They were just working-class people trying to get by, and I was able to help them do that. I wasn’t cheap, by any means, but I also didn’t price myself out of affordability. If I upped my rates significantly, I’d have more money and free time. All it would mean was turning my back on the less-wealthy parahumans.

“I remember that look.” Asha’s voice pulled me out of the reverie I didn’t know I’d fallen into. She was staring at me, an unexpected expression of concern on her face. “You used to get that way when word came down from the Torvalds to drop a client so we could move resources to someone more profitable. I think that’s why I remembered you even after you quit. A whole department of accountants, and you were one of the few who saw the clients as more than numbers.”

“More of us do than you’d think,” I told her. “Torvald & Torvald just had a knack for recruiting the more ruthless among my profession.”

“Sort of missed the mark with you, didn’t they?”

“Well, I’m not ruthless, but my accuracy rates certainly looked like I was trying to shame everyone.” I tucked away my laptop and the few papers needed to log the hours I’d put in. “And if I can, I’d rather expand the client-base than shrink it. That’s also good business sense.”

“Good luck with that.” Asha zipped up her bag and threw it over her shoulder. “I’ll keep an ear to the ground, just in case I run across a therian looking to do an internship.”

“With my luck, they’ll think my company is a front for something more impressive and get bored as soon as they realize it really is just accounting.” We headed out of the study and began walking down the stairs. Asha and I were in the foyer when I heard Zane calling our names.

We turned to see him rushing over with a bottle in each hand. “Glad I caught you two. Ainsley and I wanted to say thank you for all your help. And, obviously, apologize for the inconvenience. We’ll process your bills as soon as they come, but for now, this is a token of our gratitude.”

He held out each bottle, one of scotch for Asha and a merlot for me. I didn’t even remotely recognize the label or brand, but from the way Asha’s eyes went wide, I had a feeling she knew what hers was, and my wine was probably just as rare and valuable.

“This is a bit much as a thank you,” Asha protested.

“Agreed, the rates cover our work,” I added.

“Sorry, I think you’ll find these bonuses non-negotiable.” Zane held up his hands and backed away, cutting off all attempts to return the bottles. “You two went above and beyond what anyone could ask of you. Here in the Clover family, we believe in saying thanks for that kind of dedication. And if either of you ever need any enchanting done, I think we can manage a sharp discount. Friends and family price, if you will.”

Asha merely nodded, but I responded. “Thank you very much. I may take you up on that one day.” Having glimpsed the tip of what magic could do, I wasn’t going to turn down such an offer out of hand. One never knew what sort of needs might arise in the future.

“I hope you do, because I really mean it.” Zane snapped his fingers and pointed at me, nearly causing me to drop the bottle of probably priceless wine. “Speaking of, Fred, are you associated with the House of Turva? I checked over the pending orders, and we’ve got a large request for sunlight-proof glass from them. I don’t want to haggle too hard if they’re your people.”

“N-no,” I stammered out, trying to keep my cool as best as possible. “No relation. They’re new in town, from what I hear.”

“Guess they’re planning on staying awhile; they’ve ordered enough glass to retrofit a whole building. But if they’re not your clan, then they’ll be paying full price for it.” Zane wandered off, seemingly unaware of the sudden cloud of worry that had formed over my head. Perhaps it was because, as a vampire, the blood didn’t rush from my face in times of terror.

“You okay?” Asha asked as we began exiting once again, now with bottles in hand. “You seemed to go pretty stiff when he mentioned the other vampires.”

“I’ll be all right,” I said, probably with more hope than I felt. It had been so long since the Turvas came up that I’d managed to forget about them, but one mention from Zane brought it all rushing back. What’s worse, they were apparently setting up shop, so the moving-in process was going smoothly.

“Let me know if you need a lawyer,” Asha offered. “But maybe wait a few days first. After this, I’m taking a long weekend.”

“Not a bad idea,” I agreed. We parted at the door, she heading to her sedan and me to the truck where Bubba and Amy were already waiting.

I climbed in and rested my head against the window, watching the moon sink slowly from the sky. How long had it been stuck there, while we scrambled about inside the mansion to try and broker a peace between two siblings? I could feel the familiar fuzziness at the edge of my thoughts that came when I’d stayed awake for too long. Maybe Asha was on the right track. I couldn’t afford to take a whole vacation, but this time when the sun rose, perhaps I’d let sleep claim me. One day of solid, uninterrupted rest.

It wasn’t much of a splurge, but by God, I’d earned it.

A Lawyer in the Manor
1.

“They want a meeting.”

Those words had hung heavy in my mind since Richard uttered them, not three seconds into a phone call with me. While details had followed, I’d barely listened, as such words weren’t truly necessary. There was only one “they” who would seek a meeting with me through Richard, only one group that would put such gravity in his voice. The House of Turva, Winslow’s newest vampire clan, was finally beginning to move. What that meant for me was anyone’s guess, as they’d done little interacting beyond the basics of making peace. My only way to find out if they were friend, foe, or apathetic neighbor was to take the meeting.

Of course, that didn’t mean I had to be stupid about how I did it. My car eased into the parking lot in front of Charlotte Manor, a new night’s stars twinkling overhead. A massive Jeep that looked like it had been driven over straight from war was already parked nearby, and was obviously Richard’s ride. I couldn’t begrudge him the extra room; there was no sedan on the market that had the space to comfortably contain a man of his size. Pausing to lock my doors and double check that I had, in fact, remembered my briefcase, I headed up the front steps, where Charlotte was already waiting for me.

I realize that this can be a bit confusing, so allow me a moment to clarify the difference between Charlotte and Charlotte Manor. Charlotte Manor is the proper, given name of the structure that served as half B&B, half rented-out home to a pair of agents. Charlotte, on the other hand, was the house’s personality, its physical representation that usually took the form of a young woman who favored dresses so large and complex it was rare to see them outside of a period play. Neil had once said it best: Charlotte was the house’s avatar, the way it interacted with us.

That was who was waiting for me as I stepped onto the porch. She offered me a glass of wine—materializing food and drink was one of her less spectacular but more useful abilities—which I had to refuse.

“Working tonight,” I informed her. “Wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Really? Because the big guy inside has already downed five glasses of ale. And my mugs are well above normal pint size.” There was a touch of pride in Charlotte’s voice; she took great satisfaction in her hospitality skills.

“Richard isn’t the one who needs to worry.”

“You wouldn’t know that from the way he’s pacing about,” Charlotte replied. “When are the other guests arriving?”

I headed for the door, and she followed along beside me, matching my steps perfectly. “Soon. We set it for two hours after sunset, but there’s no guarantee they won’t be early. Richard briefed you on what to do?”

“He’s been here for hours; he won’t shut up about it.” Charlotte made a small gesture with her hand and the front door opened to reveal another, identical Charlotte waiting patiently. “I’m supposed to look like the little old lady and wait staff, do nothing to draw attention, and keep up the normal appearances. Unless they try anything.”

This was why I’d chosen Charlotte Manor as the meeting spot between myself and the Turva clan. If things took a turn for the aggressive, Charlotte could easily keep them captive long enough for me to escape. She was technically built to keep people out more than in, so holding a pair of vampires indefinitely would be a tall order even for her, but she could buy me time. That would be enough.

“Yes, but wait for my signal,” I reminded her. “Let’s not make a move unless it’s necessary.”

Whatever Charlotte would have said next was drowned out by the stampeding footsteps of Richard Alderson barreling down the front hall. No matter how times I met the man, it was impossible not to be taken aback by his size. He was enormous, tall enough to make NBA players feel threatened, and his wide body was completely packed with muscle. Add in the shaggy blond hair and teeth that were just a little too white and sharp, and I considered it one of my greatest personal accomplishments not to have collapsed in fear the first time we met. Then again, he’d been in leader mode then, which was far more outwardly intimidating than the man behind the curtain.

“Fred, I’m sorry. I tried to stall this for as long as I could.”

The apology didn’t surprise me; Richard had been giving them ever since he dropped the bomb that a meeting was formally requested. Evidently, he’d kept a lot of people between himself and the new vampires, ducking them at every chance for a lot of reasons. However, the thing about parahumans is that, while they might have little respect for the rules of humanity, they would, at least publicly, adhere to the letter of their own laws and treaties. A formal request sent through the proper channels was impossible to ignore without causing trouble, even for someone of Richard’s status.

“I’ve told you, it’s fine. If they wanted to talk with me, it was going to happen sooner or later. At least this way, we control the terms,” I assured him. “Maybe they just want me to go over their books.”

“Seems like the sort of thing an e-mail could convey. You’re never shy about handing out those business cards.” This voice belonged to neither me, Richard, nor Charlotte. Instead, it came from the blonde woman currently descending the stairs. For a moment, I almost didn’t recognize my own girlfriend.

Krystal’s usually free-flowing hair was pulled tight into a ponytail, a set of ill-fitting glasses perched on the bridge of her nose and an oversized sweatshirt swallowing up her torso. While her jeans were the same as usual, she’d traded her standard boots for a set of sensible sneakers. There was also something off about her face, though I had to really stare to realize that, while she seemed to be wearing less makeup than usual, she was actually wearing more. She’d used it to contour her features and somehow appear less striking than normal. All of this was enhanced by the way she moved, meticulously, with a slight slouch in her spine and her head always tilted a touch downward. Normal Krystal barreled through a room like a panther with the excitement of a Labrador. This version inched along as though she wasn’t even sure she wanted to be there.

“That’s a . . . new look.” I racked my mind for something positive to say. It was obvious she was trying to dull herself down, but not even I was so inexperienced at love that I would say such a thing without prompting. There’s being willing to meet with potentially aggressive vampires, and then there’s just plain suicidal.

“You like? I saw the latest fashions from Milan and just had to get my hands on it.” She stuck her tongue out and made a sound not unlike someone passing gas, and, for a moment, I could see the real Krystal shining through, clothes and makeup be damned. “There’s no way I’m letting you take this meeting without me nearby, but I didn’t want to raise too much suspicion.”