Redemption Song (Daniel Faust #2)(37)
“East? You’ve heard of the Flowers’ pogrom, haven’t you? My flock will be slaughtered there.”
“Not them. Just you. Your followers can stay. Without you poisoning their minds, maybe they can have something resembling a normal life.”
Sullivan sighed, heavy and deep-throated.
“My flock goes where I go, Daniel. They need me. They love me. Besides, since when do you have the authority to negotiate on behalf of Prince Sitri? You really are working for him, aren’t you?”
“No. Not his rules. Mine. If you stay here, I’ll be coming for you.”
“Oh please,” he said. “Did you forget last night? Did the stripes I gave you fade so soon? Do they no longer sting? Because I can give you more. Or…is that it? Did we make a connection, Daniel? Do you want more? Maybe you’d rather submit to my hand than to hers. Is that it? Did you dream of me last night? Of feeling my firm hand, guiding you under my will?”
I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. Then I took a deep breath. You know the game he’s playing. Flip it on him.
“You know,” I whispered seductively, “I did. I really did. Because when I see a guy who lost his title, his lands, and his cash all in one day, a guy who’s such a loser he got thrown out of two infernal courts and then had to hide out on Earth just so people would stop kicking his ass…I gotta tell ya, that gets me hot.”
The line went quiet for so long I almost thought he’d hung up.
“You don’t,” he said, his voice quavering, “know anything. You don’t know what really happened.”
“I know the whole story. You’re the talk of the town, Sullivan. Nobody can figure out how you manage to keep running while you’re wearing those clown shoes.”
“You’re going to die,” he hissed in a voice like simmering syrup. “You, and Caitlin, and everyone you know, and everyone you love. Dead.”
“Wait a second,” I said. “Does that mean you’re not giving my phone back?”
He hung up on me.
Well, that was a wash, I thought. Not unsatisfying, though. Time to check on Pixie. I called up St. Jude’s and asked if she was volunteering today. A few minutes later, she picked up on the other end.
“Faust! Where have you been?” she said. “I’ve been calling you since last night!”
“Shit. You haven’t been leaving messages, have you?”
“What? No. The NSA listens to those. Listen, we got a hit.”
“On the email tap?”
“Uh-huh,” Pixie said. “That mole you’ve been looking for? I know his name.”
Nineteen
She read the email to me over the phone. The second she named the sender, I had all the pieces I needed.
Gary Kemper. Hi there, Detective.
I’d gambled that Lauren had a mole on the task force, and I was right. Special Agent Black’s local man from Metro was a double agent.
No, scratch that. A triple agent. Maybe quadruple.
“Lauren,” he wrote, “got the manuscript. Somebody took a shot at me, not sure who, but I don’t think they saw my face. This shit’s getting deep and I NEED you to get me out. If AB finds out I’m working for you, I’m a dead man. If the RC finds out, I’m WORSE than dead, and that’s nothing compared to what’ll happen if S gets his hands on me. I didn’t mind feeding you intel, but this is going too far. I don’t even want the money anymore. Get me out of here!”
“Has she responded yet?”
“No,” Pixie said. “Doesn’t look like it’s been read on her end.”
“Can you pull that email, so she doesn’t ever get it?”
I listened to the rattle of laptop keys.
“Done. What’s the RC?”
I dropped the hemming and hawing. She’d shown she could take her answers straight.
“Redemption Choir. Half-demons who want to be human,” I said.
“So they’re the good guys.”
“No,” I said. “They’re nuts, and they just kidnapped a priest. They’re the bad guys.”
“Who’s AB?”
“Special Agent Harmony Black. FBI agent, trying to bust Nicky Agnelli. Honest cop, as far as I know. Straight shooter.”
“So she’s a good guy.”
“No, because she also wants to bust everyone who Nicky’s ever done business with, including me, and Lauren Carmichael’s pulling her strings. So she’s also a bad guy.”
“Who’s S?” Pixie asked.
“Sitri. Demon prince.”
“Definitely a bad guy.”
I sighed. “No. My girlfriend works for him, and she just helped save the world.”
“So let me get this straight,” Pixie said. “Some of the bad guys are bad guys, some of the bad guys are the good guys, and there aren’t any good good guys.”
“That’s right.”
“Hey, Faust?”
“Yeah, Pix?”
“You ever think,” she said, “your moral compass might be just a little bit f*cked up?”
“Every damn day.”
My heart pounded. Strikeout after strikeout, and we’d just been handed something better than information, better than a clue. If I played this right, Gary Kemper would be a weapon. He’d damned himself with that email, but it wasn’t the kind of rock-solid proof I needed. After all, anyone could send an email. No, I’d need to lure him in, bait him closer to my hook.