Angels' Flight(23)

“Oh, good.” The vampire grinned, showing both fangs, something the old ones never did. “I don’t like hard things.”

“Who cut you, Rod?”

He swallowed and blinked rapidly. “Nobody.”

“So you tried to decapitate yourself?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, which meant Deacon was holding on very lightly. Not that it mattered. Sara had her crossbow as insurance.

“Rodney.” She put all the menace she was capable of in that single word. “Don’t lie to me.”

He blinked again and—oh my God—he was going to cry. Now she felt like a bully. “Come on, Rod. Why are you scared?”

“Because.”

“Because . . .” She thought about what would scare a vampire that bad. “Was it an angel?” If it had been his sire, she couldn’t do anything about it except report the bastard to the Vampire Protection Authority. However, it was also possible the attack had been orchestrated by one of Lacarre’s enemies, in which case the angel would take care of it him-self.

“No.” Rodney sounded shocked enough to be telling the truth. “Of course not. The angels Make us. They don’t kill us.”

And the boy was living in la-la land. “So who else scares you that bad?” She caught Deacon’s eyes again at that moment and found her answer in their no-longer-amused depths. “A hunter.” Or someone Rodney had mistaken for a hunter. Because real hunters didn’t kill vampires.

Rodney started sniffling. “Please don’t hurt me. I didn’t do anything.”

“Hey.” Sara reached out and, ignoring his flinch, patted him on the shoulder. “I’m interested in collecting my retrieval fee. I only get half if you’re dead, so it doesn’t make sense for me to kill you.”

Rodney looked at her with hope a shiny gem in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“What about—” Lowering his voice, he pointed at the arm around his neck.

Deacon spoke for the first time. “I’m her boyfriend. I do what she says.”

She stared at him, but Rodney apparently found the claim highly reassuring. “Yeah, you’re the boss,” he said to Sara. “I can tell. My Mindy, she likes to be the boss, too. She told me I should run away and, you know, we could go on, like, a cruise.”

Sara pressed her finger over his lips. “Focus, Rodney. Tell me about the hunter who cut you.”

“He said all you hunters hate vampires.” Rodney’s voice got very small. “I didn’t know that. I know it’s your job to track us, but I didn’t think you hated us.”

“We don’t.” Sara wanted to pat him on the head. Jesus. “He was just being mean.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. What else did he say?”

“That vampires were the scum of the earth, and that the angels were being polluted by our presence.” He made a face. “I don’t know how that could be true since the angels Make us.”

Sara was so surprised by the sudden burst of sense that it took her a second to process it. “Yeah, that’s right. So he was lying. He say anything else?”

“No, he just got out his sword—”

Sword?

“—and tried to cut off my head.” He sat back, recital finished.

“What did he look like?” Deacon asked.

Rodney jumped, as if he’d forgotten the danger at his back. “I couldn’t see. He was wearing a black mask, and black everything. But he was tall. And strong.”

That included half the hunters in the Guild. Sara tried to get more out of Rodney, but it was a bust. Neckleting him again, she drove to Lacarre’s, very aware of Deacon following on a big monster of a bike. He remained outside the gates while she went in to deliver Rodney.

Rodney’s master was waiting for him in the sitting area of his palatial home. “Go,” he ordered.

Sara removed the necklet and put it on the table for Lacarre to return to the Guild as Rodney shuffled off like a penitent schoolboy. Snapping his cream-colored wings shut in anger, the angel picked up an envelope from the table. “A receipt confirming payment. I sent it through as soon as you called to say you had Rodney.”

Checking it quickly, she slid it into a pocket. “Thank you.”

“Ms. Haziz,” he said, scowling, “I’ll be frank with you. I never expected Rodney to attempt an escape. I’m not sure how to punish him.”

Sara wasn’t used to talking to angels for longer than it took to get the assignment. In most cases, she didn’t even see them then—they were way too important to consort with mere mortals. That was what vampires were for. “You know a Mindy?”

Lacarre stilled. “Yes. She’s one of my most senior vampires.”

“Jealous type?”

“Hmm, I see.” A nod. “I’ve been spending extra time with Rodney—he’s a child and I’m afraid he’ll get eaten up if I don’t teach him some skills.”

Sara wasn’t even going to ask how Rodney had gotten through the Candidate selection process. So many people wanted to be Made that it was anything but a slam dunk. “He’s no mastermind,” she said. “I think if you punish him too harshly, he’ll break.”