Red Dawn (14 page)

“Ha! Katia?” Nik laughs unabashedly. “Finesse is her middle name.”

He winks at me and I imagine stabbing him with my knife. Only I don’t have it. No place in this miserable excuse of a costume to conceal it.

“I’ll figure it out,” I say, squaring my shoulders confidently. For Shaye. She’s counting on us and I won’t let her down.

Chapter Eighteen

I give the bouncer my glorious new alias when I arrive at Boudreaux’s and one of his lackeys leads me to a private VIP booth on the second floor. At least this place is nicer than the last, I think, sliding into the cozy booth. I run my hand over the blue velvet seat cushion as I scan the room for any sign of The Shadow. Like the bars last night, Boudreaux’s boasts a raucous crowd. Most people are in costume and taking advantage of the anonymity.

A waitress stops by to take my order. I order a Chambord Sour without giving her much thought. I check my watch and note that it’s ten after one. I guess being punctual only cuts one way.  The Shadow’s disregard for time leaves me with nothing to do except people watch. Most of the women’s costumes are on the skimpy side. What is the deal with all of the costumes being slutty? I decide the same masochists who design our shoes probably design the costumes. I glance down at my own state of undress and realize that perhaps this is the angle I need to work The Shadow. I’ll just have to play to my charms. He is a man after all.

The waitress brings my drink and I stir it easily, blending the Chambord and sour mix. The drink is cool to the touch and just a little on the sweet side. I sip it lazily as I wait. When I do another time check it’s one-thirty. The Shadow is now half an hour late. Hell’s bells! What if he’s not coming? Could this be a set up?

I scan the bar again, trying to look nonchalant. The wait is starting to get to me and I find myself fidgeting listlessly. There’s no sign of Keegan or Nik. Just as I’m about to give up hope, a drunken jester stumbles up to the table. He crashes into the table and his scepter sends my drink sloshing over the side of the glass.

“That seat’s taken,” I tell him sharply. I extend my arm across the small table to prevent him from sitting down. The last thing I need is for this fool to scare The Shadow away.

“Is it now?” the jester replies, sounding perfectly sober despite the tinkling of the bells on his floppy hat. “Because you appear to be quite alone which pleases me. At least now I know you can follow directions.”

I withdraw my arm and he slides into the booth across from me.

“You’re The Shadow?” It’s hard to imagine any self-respecting merc dressed up like a fool. Then again, maybe it’s the perfect disguise.

“Some call me by that handle,” he says dismissively. “It’ll do. And what shall I call you?”

“You don’t,” I tell him as I study his eyes. They’re alive. Probably the result of living on the edge. “My name doesn’t matter.”

“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” he replies, tapping his fingers on the table. It’s not exactly a nervous gesture. It seems more calculating.

“Yeah, whatever,” I respond as the waitress reappears, interrupting our conversation. Talk about timing. The Shadow orders a shot of Wild Turkey before I can recapture his attention.

“Now that we’ve gotten the pleasantries out of the way, can we get down to business?” I ask. “As you undoubtedly know, I’ve been waiting for quite some time.”

“Ah, yes. Time is money.” He laughs then. His condescension grates on my nerves. “Proceed. Tell me about this little job of yours.”

Mental note to self: be charming.
Bloody hell
. It should be Nik sitting here doing the talking. He’s so much better at this kind of thing. People actually like him.

Oh, well. Time to suck it up. I take a deep breath and draw on my reserves. I’ve got this. I give The Shadow my most alluring smile, which isn’t easy given he’s dressed like a damn fool. I tilt my head and bat my eyelashes, and when I’m sure I’ve got his undivided attention, I drag my finger down the line of my neck and across the top of my bustier in the most seductive manner I can muster. Anything for Shaye, right?

“I’ve heard your skills are formidable and that I’d be wasting my time to solicit anyone else,” I tell him, pandering to his ego.

“Smart girl. Flattery will get you everywhere.”

That’s the plan. I smile brightly, leaning in close.

“I am in the market for information and I heard you’re the man to see,” I tell him matter of factly. “I believe you recently completed a job that is of interest to me.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“The way I hear it, you lifted a very high profile vaccine from The Dwyer Group.”

Despite the mask, I can see the tension flow through his body at my words. He’s no longer tapping his fingers and now sits rigidly across from me. Afraid he’ll bolt for the door, I reach out and gently caress his hand.

“Only a very elite thief could have pulled off a heist of that caliber,” I muse. “Must’ve been a huge payout.”

“You flatter me to assume this was my contract,” he replies, studying his nails. The waitress returns with his Wild Turkey and places it on the table with a smile. When she leaves, he resumes talking. “Only a fool or man with a death wish would take such a dangerous job.”

“Or a very ambitious man looking to solidify his reputation in the underworld,” I counter. “Besides, rumor has it you can shift, and the number of individuals possessing that talent is ridiculously small.”

He laughs in my face. “You’ve got quite the imagination,” he challenges, staring me down. I hold his gaze. He’s testing me.

“I’ve seen the footage.”

He waves his hand noncommittally in response. “Is this why you contacted me? To discuss hypothetical contracts on my resume? I was told you had a job for me and that the contract was worth $250k. While I do enjoy your company and find this conversation to be quite stimulating, I seriously doubt you’re offering that sort of cash for the pleasure of my company. So I ask you again: What. Is. The. Job?”

I dig deep and muster up all of my charm, flashing him a wan smile that I hope projects confidence. “I want you to tell me who hired you for the Dwyer job.”

He laughs in my face. Again. This time it wells up from deep within. The whole table shakes with the force of his laughter. Not be deterred, I push on.

“I also want you to sell me the data and the lab samples you lifted.” The words rush from my mouth without much thought. “Money is no object. I’ll double your current fee.”

He stops laughing and his eyes go flat. It’s a deadly look if I’ve ever seen one, but I’ve survived worse.

“You assume too much little girl. That you would even approach me with this ridiculous offer shows naivety.” He shoots his drink and slams the empty shot glass down on the table before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Go home and forget we ever spoke.”

“Not going to happen,” I return, not missing a beat. “I’m not leaving New Orleans without the information I came for.”

“Even if I had done this job, what makes you think I still have the bounty?” he asks, curiosity lighting his eyes.

“It’s only been 72 hours. It takes time and extensive documentation to move biological agents. Just getting them into the U.S. would have taken some doing. So, yeah, I think you still have them.”

“You’ve put some thought into this, I see.” He smiles that condescending smile again and I want to punch him in the face. “Not that I have firsthand knowledge of this job, but based on what you’ve said, I would imagine that the individual who planned this heist would have planned for every eventuality. They would have had a plan in place to move the merchandise to the buyer quickly. It was a dangerous job with a lot of money on the line. The sooner the deal could be closed, the better. You’re too late.” He slides from the booth gracefully. “But then again, what do I know? I’m just a silly old jester.”

I glare at him for all I’m worth, weighing my options. It’s a crowded bar and there are an awful lot of witnesses. Then again, most of them are intoxicated.

“It seems our business here is done,” he tells me. His words carry the great weight of finality. “Do yourself a favor. Go home and forget we ever spoke.”

“Like hell!”

He turns and disappears into the mass of bodies gyrating on the dance floor. I give him a five second lead before following. Unfortunately, he’s swallowed up by the crowd and I lose sight of him. I search the dance floor briefly before abandoning the effort and heading for the lower level. There isn’t a doubt in my mind he’ll be heading for the exit. I pound down the back stairs hoping to catch of glimpse of him. I don’t see the jester, but I do see Nik waving from the back door. I hurry through the crowded room trying to catch up to him.

When I burst through the heavy metal door, I find myself in an alley behind the bar. It’s filthy and dark. No great surprise, it reeks of rotting trash, urine, and stale beer. To my left, the alley opens back up on the main street. There are people everywhere and the sounds of Mardi Gras float down toward me. To my right, the alley goes deeper into the block. Lights are few and far between so there’s no telling where the alley leads, if anywhere. There’s a drunk guy zipping up behind the dumpster.

“Which way did they go?” I shout at him.  He gives me the blank stare of a highly intoxicated, or maybe stoned, party goer. “Which way did they go?” I repeat, enunciating my words despite my rising panic.

He points deep into the dark alley. Figures. I kick off my heels and take off at a sprint, hoping to make up some ground.  I’m thankful Nik was watching the door. Without his vigilance, the Shadow would be long gone. I just hope he’s managed to stay on his tail.

I thunder into a cross street and skid to a stop. Which way? I strain my ears trying to separate the sounds of the streets and just as I catch Nik’s scent, a gunshot shatters my concentration. With a burst of speed, I continue down the dark street stopping only when I find Nik hovering over the body of The Shadow.

“He’s been shot.” Nik’s face is grim as he tries to staunch the bleeding. The blood seeps through the jester costume, staining the purple fabric a terminal shade of red. The blood spreads at an alarming rate. Good thing we both fed heavily this afternoon or the guy would be as good as dead. As it is, his future isn’t looking so bright. Keegan arrives then and I’m surprised to realize I didn’t even hear him approach.

“Damn it!” I scream, stomping in frustration. “Where’d the shot come from?”

Nik nods at the roof cattycorner to where we stand and it’s all I need. I take off in pursuit of the shooter. I’m vaguely aware of Nik shouting that it’s pointless, but I can’t stop. Not even when he confirms that it was another vamp and that it’s likely the shooter’s long gone. Halfway up the side of the building, I pause long enough to give one final order.

“Get a doctor. We need him alive.”

As Nik lifts The Shadow from the street, Keegan agrees. “I know a doc who won’t ask questions and makes house calls. Let’s get him back to the motel.”

With that settled, I scramble onto the roof and take off in pursuit of the shooter. It’s easy to catch his scent up here, isolated from the throngs of humans on the street below. I follow him for a few blocks before losing his trail. Angry and frustrated, I head back to the motel desperately hoping The Shadow is still alive.

Chapter Nineteen

I’m spitting mad when I finally get back to the motel. The long walk did little to improve my temperament. I can’t believe this is happening. So much for the notion of a wild goose chase. No, this is the real deal. We’re really in the thick of this thing now and there’s no turning back.

I let myself into the room and discover that the doctor has only just begun to work. Keegan's bed is covered in blood and he’s silently passing tools to the doc as needed. Nik sits stoically by the window, not saying a word. I rush to the side of the bed hoping for an update.

The doc glances up at my arrival. He’s old and his face is heavily scarred. He’s seen better days, but his hands are sure and steady as he works on the damaged flesh at his fingertips. Like the bed, his shirt is covered in blood. There’s so much blood. I’m torn between my thirst and the realization that The Shadow may not last the night. His blood loss alone might be enough to do the trick.

“Stay back,” the doctor orders gruffly. He’s not going to get any awards for congeniality, but that’s not what we’re paying him for.

“Is he going to make it?” I ask, fearing the answer.

“Too early to tell,” he responds. He’s digging under the flesh with a pair of surgical pliers. It looks hella painful. I’m not sure what he’s doing exactly, but I assume he’s looking for the bullet. “I need another towel and more hot water.” Keegan rushes to comply.

For the first time, I look at the face of the patient. His mask has been removed, but it makes no difference. The Shadow is still incognito. Before my very eyes, his face shifts from that of a fair skinned white man with a bushy brown mustache and red bulbous features to that of a slender black man with almond shaped eyes and full lips. It’s fascinating. As he floats on the edge of consciousness, his identity morphs nonstop from one face to another. I’ve never seen anything like it.

“I need to ask him some questions,” I tell the doc as Keegan hands him the clean towel.

“I wouldn’t bother, if I were you,” he responds, grabbing a retractor from the tray of tools at his side. “He won’t be able to answer you. I’ve got him pretty well doped up on painkillers. Besides, he’s in shock.”

I join Nik at the window and we watch the doc work for a while longer. When I can’t stand it for another minute, I step outside to take in what’s left of the balmy night. The fresh air is a relief after being cooped up in the stuffy room. It doesn’t take Nik long to find his way out to the balcony.

“How’re you holding up?” he asks.

“Good question.” I turn, gazing at the night sky. It’s a clear evening and the stars shine brightly overhead weaving a beautiful blanket above the earth. I’m reminded of my childhood and the urge to make a wish wells up unbidden. If only things were that simple.