Wayward Son (Simon Snow, #2)(76)
Lamb nods, stopping just in front of Baz. “And you will help us.”
I wonder how Simon is coping with this conversation. I consider casting a paralysis spell on him, just in case he isn’t coping well—but he might drop out of the air and injure himself.
Lamb turns his head towards Shepard and me, but his eyes stay on Baz. “I’m not a king. This city is bigger than me—I’m just its most dedicated public servant. But the Next Blood … they have a king. They can’t function without him. I don’t know where your missing friend is, but you can be sure that Braden Bodmer does. He’s the one snatching up spare Speakers and taking them apart to see how they tick.”
Simon, somewhere beside Lamb, growls.
Lamb turns to the empty space. “You’re going to help me kill him.”
* * *
Well, at least there’s a plan.
The Vampire King sits in one of the leather chairs, his two well-dressed friends flanking him now, and lays it out for us:
Apparently the Next Blood’s headquarters (does every vampire cult have headquarters? How many American towns are vampire citadels?) are in San Diego. But they have a facility near Reno.
According to Lamb’s intelligence (there are vampire double agents), all the NowNext leaders will be there this weekend; they’re having some kind of ceremony. “We’ll go in as quietly as we can,” he says. “Under the radar. But if we can’t go quiet, we go loud. The Bleeder—”
“Shepard,” Shepard interrupts.
Lamb pauses to smile at him, like he’s making a note to eat him later. “Shepard was correct: The Next Blood aren’t fighters. They’re scientists and software engineers. Chaos may very well work in our favour.”
Well, there’s Simon accounted for.
Merciful Morgana—Lamb’s face when my spell finally wears off, and Simon appears out of thin air. Lamb is done talking, and he and his minions are leaving to get their own team in order, when pop, there’s Simon, glowering, between them and the door.
Lamb takes in Simon’s wings and tail, then turns to Baz and shakes his head. “Not just a magician, Baz, but a disfigured magician.”
As soon as they’re out the door, Simon throws a lamp at it. “Fuck this!”
Baz sets a pile of clothes on the bed and starts folding a dress shirt.
Simon puts his hands on his hips. “Well, we’re not going with him.”
“Of course we’re going with him,” Baz says.
“We are not getting into a car with a vampire so he can lead us into a vampire nest!” Simon shouts.
Baz throws the shirt onto the bed and shouts back: “Isn’t that why we came here?! Isn’t that precisely what we asked him to do?!”
“We came here to find Agatha!”
“He’s taking us to Agatha!”
“Is he?” Simon’s standing directly across the bed from Baz. “Or is he going to dump us in the desert wearing cement shoes?”
“That doesn’t even make sense. Why would they put cement on our feet in the desert?”
“You know what I mean!”
“Lamb isn’t going to hurt us!”
“How do you know?!”
“Because I trust him!”
Simon looks like he was ready to shout some more, but now he doesn’t know what to say. He takes a step back. “You trust him.”
Baz nods. “I do. I don’t—I don’t think Lamb would lie to me.”
Simon clenches his jaw. If he still had magic, I’d be sheltering in place. “Oh, really. Well, it’s a good thing he doesn’t know what—”
“I wouldn’t assume we have privacy,” Shepard cuts in. “Under this roof.”
He’s right. This is Lamb’s hotel. Lamb’s city. I’ve scanned the room for bugs, but not recently.
Simon is boiling with rage.
Baz is simmering. He deliberately picks up his shirt again. “Fine. We don’t have to accept his help. We can head off on our own, without any clues or direction. I’m sure Agatha can wait.”
“No,” I say. “Baz is right, this is our only lead. If Lamb wanted us dead, he’d just kill us here. Or try.” I raise my voice for the benefit of anyone who might be listening: “We can hold our own in a fight.”
Baz looks at the Normal. “You should leave now, Shepard. There’s no reason for you to endanger yourself further.”
“I can think of plenty,” Shepard says. “You’re not getting rid of me yet.”
Baz turns to Simon. “Well, Snow?”
Simon knocks over the remaining lamp. Then scrubs his fingers through his hair. “If you really think he’s taking us to Agatha, I’ll go. But I’m not killing some rival gang leader for him.”
“Right,” Baz says, “because of your moral objection to slaying vampires.”
Simon just huffs.
Lamb told us to be ready to leave when he calls for us. Baz finishes packing, I’m not sure why—we aren’t taking luggage on the rescue mission. I change into my old clothes, so I can think. Then I lie on the bed, making a mental list of spells to kill vampires. When Lamb’s “people” come for us, I’m up to sixty-three.