Midnight's Daughter(42)
When I got my breath back, I looked up to find him doing something with the mass of switches and wires jumbled together on one side of the nest. “You could make me feel much better by telling me this is all part of the show.”
“And you could make me feel much better by telling me that whoever is shooting at us is pissed off at you,” he replied, frantically meshing wires.
“Sorry, not this time.” Whoever was attacking the float had already been shooting at him when I arrived. For once, it looked like someone else was the target.
I ducked as another arrow flew overhead, taking out the skull and crossbones flag right over our heads. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to shut down the fireworks. This thing is loaded with them, and if they all go at once…”
“Okay, then. Maybe I better ask you that question now.”
“Dorina!” The yell came from somewhere in the crowd. I caught sight of an auburn head weaving its way toward us and swore. How the hell had he found me?
“I need weapons,” I told Casanova in a rush. “A lot of them.”
He glared at me as another barrel of fireworks exploded below, showering the deck and half the street with bright blue sparks. “And you’re telling me this because?”
“Because your old boss was a member in good standing of the vampire Mafia! You’ve probably got more weapons stashed away than the freaking Senate.”
“Dorina!” I ignored the very pissed-off vampire yelling at me from what now sounded like the deck. What he thought he was doing down there amid enough fire to roast a few dozen of his kind, I didn’t know. Maybe he really was crazy.
“And your point is?” Casanova had given up on the wires and was peering over the edge of the crow’s nest fearfully.
“The rumor is, your boss recently skipped town. He’s not going to be fighting a war anytime soon. So help a gal out here. I can make you a list—”
“Save it. Go see your usual suppliers.” Casanova grabbed a handful of rigging and swarmed to the deck as easily as a seasoned sailor. I grabbed a piece of wood from the side of the nest, snapped off a piece to make a point and followed on his heels.
“My usual supplier is out of business.” Permanently.
“Then go plague someone else’s life!”
“I’m plaguing yours.”
“I noticed,” Casanova snarled, glaring at my makeshift stake and doing a mad sort of dance across the deck to avoid the hot spots.
I would have followed, but a hand encircled my arm. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you?” I collapsed to the deck, taking Louis-Cesare with me. A piece of burning sailcloth swept through the air, right where he’d been standing. “I thought I told you to stay with Radu.”
“You told me nothing. Nor did you explain where you were going or when you would return! You stole a very expensive Senate vehicle and left, that was all.”
“I talked to your sire,” I said, trying not to sound defensive. It wasn’t like I owed him an explanation. “And you’re avoiding the question.”
“I came after you!” he said, with a pretty good glare considering that he was pressed flat to the deck. “You informed Radu that you were going to Las Vegas to spread rumors of our activities. I thought it unlikely that Mircea would appreciate my allowing an adherent of his house to walk into a war zone to talk with the disreputable types likely to have Lord Dracula’s ear!” He took in my dishevelment with a sneer. “It seems my fears were justified.”
“And yet who is rescuing whom?” I pointed out, trying to restrain the need to pop him in the mouth.
“I do not see a rescue,” he said, pushing off from the floor. “I see you in a trap, in peril of your life.”
“And you’re doing so much better?”
“Dory! Some help here!” Casanova sounded less than his usual suave self. I jumped up before Louis-Cesare could grab me, and threw myself in the direction of his voice. If he got torched, my best chance to replace Benny’s stash went up in flames with him.
I found him wedged into a small door in the deck, with only his head and shoulders visible. “Do you drive?” he demanded, sounding a little shrill.
“Drive what?”
“This.” He jumped out of the hole, showing me a steering mechanism that, presumably, kept the float on course. Everything looked fine except for one slight problem.
“Where’s the driver?”
“Deserted, along with everyone else.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think? With the boss out of the way, control of the business is up for grabs.”
“And someone is trying to grab it away from you.” My timing never ceases to amaze me. I slipped into the claustrophobic little space and took a closer look. The float had been built on a tractor bed, which meant that the driving apparatus was a stick. Even worse, we were approaching a bend in the road. Until now, the float had remained more or less on target from inertia, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. A glance out of the small space under the prow showed me what lay ahead if we couldn’t get this thing to turn. “I don’t drive a stick—”
“Neither do I!”
“But I know someone who does.” I pushed Casanova out of the way and grabbed Louis-Cesare by the ankle. “Get down here!”