drops her case for nonpayment. He'll deal. He has amends to make and trust to rebuild."
"You think I'll keep him around after this?"
I smiled, but it wasn't a pretty smile. "I hope you kick his ass and turn him over to the cops. People died on your watch, because of him. But I'll agree that it's your call."
Derek dropped his head, then looked up at me under his brows. "I was hoping you'd say something stupid so I could hit you."
I chuckled. "Sorry to disoblige. But I need you healthy and not laid up in the hospital."
An unwilling smiled pulled at his mouth. "Someday we're gonna fight, Princess. For real."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Big words from the tough guy. So, how do you want to play this?"
"Straight up," Derek said. "Him and me. We'll talk. Then I'll kick the crap outta him. And then we'll use his contacts to draw out our fanghead."
"Works for me. Do all the talking where there isn't any electronic surveillance that could be compromised. Let me know when you want me."
* * *
Later that afternoon, Derek called. "We're coming over, Injun Princess."
I was waiting in the kitchen when their car pulled up and they knocked on the front door. "Come in," I called. Angel and Derek walked in, Angel in front. He had a puffy lip and the beginnings of a black eye. Angel stood in front of me, not meeting my eyes. "Teeth?" I asked.
Angel touched his lip. "A few a little loose."
"You deserve that and more. People died because of you. But now you've got something we want. A connection. If you work with us, I'm happy to tell no one, even Leo, even your buddies, about your little indiscretion. You want to start on the road to recovery or be locked up?"
Angel glanced back at Derek, who looked none the worse for wear. Apparently Angel hadn't put up much of a fight. "Recovery." He shook his head, but not in disagreement, more like resignation, and drew to attention. "Hi. I'm Joran Stevens and I'm a fuckup."
Kid yelled from upstairs, "Watch your language. There's a lady present." Derek and Angel both laughed, whether at the timing or idea that I might be called a lady, I didn't know.
* * *
Alex and Angel were working out the basics of a scheme to draw out the unknown subject who had turned him. The condition of his face was the ace in the hole of the plan. Angel typed in a text on his phone, showed the text to us, and hit SEND. I took his cell back to my bedroom. There was no way to detect if someone was listening in through the phones, so we had to keep the cells we were known to use in one room together. Derek had purchased a dozen throwaways and some other low-tech electronics for us to use until this was all over. Luckily, I had five thousand in cash on hand - my runaway money, I hadn't used, so if someone was keeping tabs on credit usage, they couldn't see what we had bought or done.
"Now what?" Angel asked.
"Now we wait," Alex said.
"And eat," I said. "I've ordered pizza." Alex grinned like the teenaged boy he was.
Halfway through the pizza, we heard the tone Angel had assigned for the mystery man. The tone came over the baby monitor we had set up on the phones in my bedroom.
Derek raced in and grabbed the cell, showing Angel's text to the small group. The text said "Moonwalk bench 2pm."
Which made no sense to me whatsoever, but the others seemed to understand.
When he came back to the kitchen, after putting the phone back in my room, Derek said, "We're on." At my obvious confusion, he said, "The Moonwalk is the scenic boardwalk along the Mississippi." When my confusion didn't abate, he said, "It's called that after Moon Landrieu, a former mayor."
It was perhaps telling that my first thought was the Moonwalk was the place where I'd taken Rick down on our first sort-of date. "Ducky," I said. I hadn't been in New Orleans long, but it already had its share of painful memories. "Okay. Let's do this."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Landed on a Limo Floor
Angel asked his handler to meet him to pass along some hard copies of the location of the New Orleans vamps' lairs that Angel claimed he had stolen from me. He asked for five thousand dollars for the pages, not such a high number that the anonymous person might have