"I don't think you're Scavetti's favorite person right now."
"I'm crushed.” Raj looked up as a white Taurus appeared in his review mirror, with Em at the wheel. He executed a quick U-turn so the BMW was facing the open end of the alley. Em did the same, pulling up behind him. She got out of the car and gave him an excited grin.
"Fun times tonight, huh, boss?"
Raj shook his head. He had to remind himself sometimes that behind Emelie's cover model exterior was a total adrenaline junkie. She lived for this kind of thing. “Everyone set?"
She nodded. “At your word, they'll hit the gas. Two minutes to the front of the house, two minutes inside."
Raj surveyed the situation in back. The grubby yard was surrounded by a battered wooden fence, and if there was a light, it wasn't lit. A lopsided gate was standing wide open, its padlock hanging uselessly on the fence's U-ring, probably put there by the ten or so diehard press types huddled around their Blackberries in the darkness. Occasionally, one of them would glance up at the house, but nothing was stirring up there, either. Sarah's windows were all covered, blinds drawn and curtains closed, but he caught the flash of the landlady's curious face from an upstairs window next door. The woman would have made a great spy. There was no light leaking into the yard from inside Sarah's duplex, and behind him, the alley was just as poorly lit, with no street lights. A motion activated flood lamp, which had lit up when he drove past, had gone dark again. Three cars were parked along the side, all of them heading into the dead-end, and presumably belonging to the reporters, because the residents would know better. “All right,” he said to Em. “I'll give these people a nice nap and then you and I go in the back at the same time Yossi and the others hit the front. They make a big noise, take Angel out as a decoy and storm away. She's about the same size as Sarah, we'll just cover her hair. You exit back here with Sarah and take her to the warehouse. I'll handle Scavetti and whatever else comes up and meet you there later."
"I can handle the cop if you'd rather—"
"He knows me. You take Sarah."
Em studied him briefly. “You're the boss."
Raj nodded. “Give Yossi the go ahead."
Sarah sat huddled halfway up the stairs, hugging her knees to her chest, utterly miserable. Poor Mrs. M. was next door, as trapped as Sarah herself. Scavetti couldn't decide if he was more pissed about Raj, or the fact that everyone would now think the Buffalo Police Department, i.e. Tony Scavetti, was using a psychic to solve their very high profile case. Once he'd agreed to give Raj ten minutes, the detective had thrown his hands up in disgust and disappeared into Sarah's living room where she could hear him swearing at someone on his cell phone. Angel was doing pretty much the same, albeit with a lot less swearing, whispering into her headset like some sort of special ops agent in an action flick.
For her part, Sarah didn't know if Raj's imminent arrival was good news or bad, but she did know he could make her disappear faster than she could have on her own and without involving the police. So she sat on her stairs where no one could see her from the outside, listening to the competing mutterings of Scavetti and Angel, and waiting for Raj who probably hated her.
She sat up abruptly, as two things happened all at once. Angel shouted, “They're coming in,” and a sudden roar of truck engines and squealing tires sent Scavetti racing for the front door. He cursed violently when Angel whipped the door open ahead of him, but then both stood back as four men in black combat gear stormed through the crowd of shouting, angry reporters, stomped up onto the porch and into the house. Angel slammed the door behind them and Sarah's small hallway was suddenly crowded with big, hulking vampires, while Scavetti was all but thumping his chest in anger. The testosterone was so thick in the air she looked up at the ceiling, expecting to see clouds of it hovering visibly over their heads.
"What the f**k?” Scavetti yelled. “Who the hell authorized—"
"I did,” Raj said from the kitchen. With all the fuss and noise at the front door, Sarah hadn't even heard the back door open. She realized that had been the plan, that the team entering through the front had one purpose—to cover their master's entrance from the backyard.
At the sound of his voice, all four vampires turned as one, muscles quivering like horses at a starting gate as they dropped to one knee, along with Angel. Scavetti stared, mouth agog, his gaze traveling from the kneeling vampires to Raj and back again in disbelief.
Sarah heard heavy footsteps, and then Raj's head and shoulders came into view through the banister to her right. Wearing black leather and denim, radiating a dangerous sort of authority, he looked larger than life and twice as lethal as the vampire minions kneeling before him. And while he had to be aware of her sitting there, he didn't so much as glance her way. Her heart clenched painfully. Em strolled in behind him, dressed in black combat gear and looking far better in it than Lara Croft ever did. Raj gestured to the kneeling vamps and they jumped to their feet.
"Detective Scavetti,” Raj said calmly. “Is Ms. Stratton under arrest?"
Sarah jerked at the sound of her name, while the police detective glared daggers all around. “I don't f**king need this crap, Gregor,” he snarled.
Raj's heavily armed vampires bristled with outrage at this disrespectful treatment of their master, and Sarah shrank back against the wall, expecting violence. But Raj only smiled. “Let me take this off your hands, Detective. I assure you it is none of Ms. Stratton's making. If you're looking for the person who leaked her identity, you should call Edward Blackwood."
So she'd been right about Blackwood. Not that there'd ever been any doubt. The bastard had been phoning almost nonstop all afternoon, clearly figuring Sarah would have no one to turn to but him. He didn't know that she'd rather let Scavetti arrest her than put herself into his greasy hands.
"For all the f**king good it will do,” Scavetti muttered in response to Raj's comment about Blackwood. He looked around. “Obviously, you have a plan."
"Angel here will serve as a decoy.” He gestured at the diminutive woman. “My people will exit through the front door, as though spiriting away Ms. Stratton, taking off into the night with great fanfare and drawing as much attention as possible."
Sarah looked at Angel who caught her gaze and grinned conspiratorially. She was leaning into the heavily muscled vampire standing behind her and Sarah wondered if they were a couple, if that was why Angel, who obviously wasn't a vampire, was a part of Raj's company.
"Meanwhile, my lieutenant,” Raj was saying, indicating Emelie who snapped off a quick salute in response. He gave her a quelling look, but there was a small smile playing around his mouth as he did so. “My lieutenant,” he continued, “will take Ms. Stratton out through the back and transport her to a location known only to my people."
Scavetti had looked satisfied up to that point, but now he scowled. “We'll want to know where you're taking her. And where the f**k will you be during all of this?"
Raj gave the detective a patient look. “I thought you and I could take this opportunity to update one another on our progress, Detective, including, of course, Ms. Stratton's location. Our goal in this matter has consistently been to assist in your investigation, not impede it. Once we have concluded to your satisfaction, I will rejoin my team."
Scavetti looked like he had swallowed something rotten, but he nodded.
For her part, Sarah had some pretty real doubts that Raj had any intention of informing anyone about her whereabouts once they left this house. She also couldn't help noting that it was Emelie who'd be taking her away, not Raj. So much for the knight-on-a-white-horse scenario. She was pretty sure none of those scenes involved having the knight's sidekick ride away with the rescued maiden. She also wondered if anyone was going to ask her opinion about any of this, or if she was going to be treated like just so much baggage—
"Is that acceptable to you, Sarah?"