Brave the Tempest (Cassandra Palmer #9) - Karen Chance Page 0,24

out of here?” Marco snapped at the vamp who’d just come in. “And find me that idiot of Roy’s, what’s his name?”

“D-Daniel,” croaked Daniel—I presumed—since he was still hanging from Marco’s fist.

“This is high court work,” Augustine shrieked in my face, his blue eyes wild. “Do you understand what that means?”

“No,” I said, and looked at Tami. “Listen—”

“We talked about this.” It was flat. “We all agreed—”

“That was before Mircea started poaching my guys—”

“Oh, like the old ones are any better!”

“Hey!” Marco said.

“They’re master vampires!” Tami said. “They don’t need guns!”

“It’s a point,” I told Marco.

“Bullshit it’s a point!” he told me back. “They need guns because they’re masters! You know how fast a master, even one like that loser—and why aren’t you going after him?” he demanded, looking at the new vamp. He was the one who’d given me the phone.

“I . . . think you’re holding him, sir,” the new guy said.

“What?” Black eyes focused on Daniel, who fortunately didn’t need to breathe. “Yeah, this guy,” Marco said, and slammed him down on the prep table. “Pathetic as he is, he could drain you in a matter of seconds. That’s why we give ’em guns. As a deterrent, sure, ’cause most civilians suddenly get accommodating when you start flashing hardware around. But also as a safeguard—”

“A safeguard?” Tami was furious.

“If they’re reaching for a gun, they aren’t draining you,” Marco said. “And most bullet wounds aren’t fatal, despite what you might have seen on TV. But losing all the blood in your body? Yeah. The docs aren’t putting that back.”

“I can’t believe we’re debating which means of deadly force to use in a suite full of children!”

“They’re not meant for the kids, but for anybody who might wanna harm the kids—”

“Really, I must go,” Batman told me.

“I will make your life a living hell,” I promised.

He shut up.

“Cassie didn’t want to harm anybody,” Tami yelled. “Yet he pulled a gun on an unarmed woman—”

“She’s Pythia. She ain’t unarmed,” Marco said dryly.

“Oh my God, nobody cares!” Augustine shrieked.

Everybody paused to look at him, because he both looked and sounded like somebody seconds away from a massive heart attack. He grabbed me, and those sticklike fingers were surprisingly strong. “What is wrong with you?” I demanded.

“You! You are what is wrong with me! This is high court work. You drag it in here like it’s nothing—nothing!” He looked outraged. “Where did you find it?”

“In a store window. There were others—”

“Auggghhhh!”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Marco said, and let go of the traumatized vamp long enough to grab Augustine and put his glittery self outside the door. “He gets back in, you go home, too,” he told the other newbie.

“That . . . might not be the best incentive right now,” I pointed out.

“Hey. They should be honored to be here, all right?” Marco said, looking pointedly at the guy on the table, who hadn’t dared move. “It’s the fucking Pythian Court—”

“Language,” Tami snapped.

Marco got out his wallet and handed her a twenty. “They get to be around all the big shots—assuming you ever start seeing any,” he added.

“The waiting list is getting a little long,” Tami confirmed, adding the twenty to a jar full of them in a nearby cabinet.

“I’m doing what I can,” I told her, which was true. It felt like I hit the ground running every day, yet never caught up. And now I was supposed to sit in our big audience chamber solving other people’s problems when I couldn’t even fix all of my own?

“Rhea says there’s usually a grace period after a new Pythia comes on board,” Tami added. “To let her get things sorted out. But it’s normally only a couple of weeks. It’s been months now—”

“There’s also a war!” I said, wondering why I was holding a phone.

“Yes, and that’s bought us some time, but it’s also brought up a lot of new issues that people want addressed. You’re going to have to start seeing at least a few of the big names on the list—”

“Soon,” I promised.

“You said that last week,” Marco said. And then he and Tami both crossed their arms and looked at me.

“Aren’t you supposed to be fighting?” I said, glancing pointedly at the guns Tami had heaped on a counter.

“No. We’re explaining the issue and waiting on a ruling from our Pythia,” Tami said.

Great.

Somebody was squawking something out of the phone, so I put it to my ear. “Hello?”

The squawking stopped. “Hello?” It sounded tentative.

“Who is speaking, please?” I asked