Blood Song Read Free Page B

pay for the ticket out.”
    Well, shit. I really didn’t know what to say in response to that, so I kept my mouth shut. It just seemed safer.
    “Well? I showed you mine—” He made a gesture that was more a demand than an invitation. Which was fair, I suppose. But I was almost embarrassed to show him. Steeling myself, I held open the jacket and watched his eyes widen as he took inventory of my armament. “Damn, girl! And it doesn’t even show.”
    “Special tailoring and spells on the jacket,” I admitted. “And I had the sleeves made wide enough that I could draw my knives.” I did just that, pulling one with a smooth, easy draw. I held it out to him hilt first. Anybody else, I wouldn’t have shown the knives. They were a gift from Vicki and are valuable as hell. The spell work on them is such that they rank as major magical artifacts. People have killed to get their hands on that sort of thing. For me, though, they were a major part of my kit, because a single scratch from the blade will kill pretty much any of the monsters. I never wanted to get close enough to have to use them, but I damned well wanted to have them … just in case.
    Bob let out a long, low whistle as he ran his hands over the polished wood handle. I was guessing he was testing the spell work as well but couldn’t be sure. “Damn, girl, you get the
best
toys.”
    “Gift from Vicki,” I admitted.
    He shook his head and passed the knife back with what was almost reverence. “Keep those out of sight if you can. Don’t want to invite trouble.”
    I just nodded my assent and thought about the possibility of trouble. Something about this job was bugging me. (Other than the obvious demon thing.) It wasn’t obvious, just a pebble in your shoe kind of thing. Bob had said he didn’t like the guy who’d interviewed him. I couldn’t say I disagreed. The guy I’d talked to had been vague about details of the job to the point of being coy. I don’t
like
coy. He’d answered my questions in ways that really didn’t tell me much of anything. I’d come damned close to rejecting the job.
    And then there was the fact that I suspected I might have been chosen just because I was a woman, to force Rezza into toeing his father’s progressive line.
    Don’t get me wrong, there are cases when a woman is specifically needed—you get a female client, she needs someone who can check out the ladies’ room without problems, go into dressing rooms. But that wasn’t what this was supposed to be.
    “I feel better knowing you’re here.” Bob admitted quietly.
    “Back atcha, big guy.”
    The elevator bell rang. We stepped inside the elegantly appointed cabin. Pressing the button for the top floor, I turned to face the front as the doors whooshed smoothly closed. When they reopened I stepped into an expansive living space. One entire wall was a bank of windows, open to show a panoramic view of the city lights sparkling below.
    Stupid. Unless those windows were bulletproof, I could see three perfect spots for a sniper’s roost, and that was without really trying. I thought about the demon again. What if he was in the room with us already? I needed to figure out a way to check each person. I couldn’t do it openly for fear of a violent reaction with possible hostages. But leaking a little holy water onto my palm and then shaking hands with everyone would just make it look like I had sweaty palms.
    “You’re early.” The retainer repeated his earlier complaint. In photographs in my research file, he was always just a pace behind the king, always with the same dour expression. I turned to face him, keeping my expression neutral. He stepped away from a group of men standing by the bar. His voice was disapproving. I’d thought that the photos just made him look cranky, but they’d only captured the real him. I immediately felt sorry for whoever his significant other might be.
    Standing at about five nine, he was a little bit shorter than me. I could tell he