I went to my room, stripped, and fell into bed next to my own ordnance.
My official phone informed me that I had a text from Adelaide. "Mom is dying. They all are. Maybe three more days, if we bleed the blood-servants dry. Please help."
I texted back "OK. Two days. I'll find something for her in two days."
I hoped. I pulled a pillow over my head and was asleep instantly.
* * *
I woke with my hands pulling a weapon from a shoulder holster tangled on the bed. There were people in my house and it sounded like they were tearing down the walls. Then I remembered the two men I had let into my home the night before. Derek had vouched for them, but . . . Really, could I get any more stupid?
I rose, brushed my teeth, swiped a hand along my braided hair in lieu of combing it out and rebraiding it, and dressed in a pair of wrinkled cotton pants and a T-shirt. I stuck three stakes in my hair and strapped a holstered .32 on my ankle - hopefully overkill, but making up for possible stupidity earlier. I unlocked my bedroom door, glad that I had at least turned the small thumb latch.
There were boiled eggs in a pot on the stove and I cracked and ate three for breakfast, watching the current changes in my world. Alex had taken over my kitchen table with his laptop and e-whatchamathingy tablets, the Seattle laptop, and my laptop. Cheeky kid. I sniffed him as I passed and said, "Take a shower. You stink." He grunted, which was no surprise.
On a scratch piece of paper, I wrote out the names I wanted researched, starting with Hieronymus, and ending with all of Derek Lee's men, including the ten New Guys. "These guys? Their names are on my laptop under a file named Derek Lee. Reach and I did deep background on Derek's Vodka Boys prior to the Asheville gig, and the new Tequila Boys just last month. Maybe you can come up with something new."
"Sure. Okay. Do I have to be legal?"
"Yes." I slapped the back of his head. "Totally legal. You're on parole, remember? But you can be creative." At which the kid grinned like I had offered him an "all you can eat" dinner at a pizza joint. "Main thing I need first," I said, "is for you to find out where this Big H vamp is located and anything you can about his organization. You can use the Internet, access my own files, and the files from the NOPD's woo-woo room." I added a request for him to look over all building renovation permits requested within fifty miles of New Orleans. After the events of yesterday, it was clear the mystery master vamp was bringing his fight to Leo's home turf. If a vamp was moving in, he'd need real estate with vamp-requirements: steel-protected windows and reinforced doors, a room with easy exit via a hidden passageway, and updated electronics. There wasn't time to build from the ground up, but I added a request for an expanded search, starting over the last six months, for new buildings that might work for a vamp. I tapped the table. "No huge hurry. Tomorrow would be nice."
"Tomorrow?" His voice squeaked, that teenaged thing they do when their voices change at puberty. He blushed, half in anger.
"Kidding. Just kidding. Start on Big H info and the backgrounds on Derek's men first. I need them by sunset. Two days will be fine for the permit stuff." He shook his head at me with something like a horrified exasperation. "Hey, I'm used to Reach's timeliness," I said. "If you can't cut it - "
"I can do it," he said, sounding surly.
I turned away before he could see my amusement and went on into the living room. I stopped in the middle of the room, bare feet on the cool hardwood floor, chewing egg, and stared. There was a hole in the wall. It opened up under the stairs to reveal a little room with a slanted ceiling and another hole in the floor. The room's walls were lined in stone - slate, maybe - and there was a bed with a lumpy mattress and tousled sheets under the most sloped part of the ceiling. Across from the bed was a small stand with a pitcher and bowl, a ewer, I guessed. There was very little dust and no mold, which I thought was interesting,