"I think you're right." It was that pleasant small talk that you use with people whose names you don't know but whose faces you keep seeing. We were neighbors, so we said hello and good-bye to each other, but nothing else. That was the way I liked it. When I came home, I didn't want someone coming over to borrow a cup of sugar.
The only exception I made was Mrs. Pringle, and she understood my need for privacy.
The apartment was warm and quiet inside. I locked the door and leaned against it. Home, ah. I tossed the leather jacket on the back of the couch and smelled perfume. It was flowery and delicate with a powdery undertaste that only the really expensive ones have. It wasn't my brand.
I pulled the Browning and put my back to the door. A man stepped around the corner from the dining room area. He was tall, thin, with black hair cut short in front, long in back, the latest style. He just stood there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, smiling at me.
A second man came up from behind the couch, shorter, more muscular, blond, smiling. He sat on the couch, hands where I could see them. Nobody had any weapons, or none that I could see.
"Who the hell are you?"
A tall black man came out of the bedroom. He had a neat mustache, and dark sunglasses hid his eyes.
The lamia stepped out beside him. She was in human form, in the same red dress as yesterday. She wore scarlet high heels today, but nothing else had changed.
"We've been waiting for you, Ms. Blake."
"Who are the men?"
"My harem."
"I don't understand."
"They belong to me." She trailed red nails down the black man's hand hard enough to leave a thin line of blood. He just smiled.
"What do you want?"
"Mr. Oliver wants to see you. He sent us to fetch you."
"I know where the house is. I can drive there on my own."
"Oh, no, we've had to move," she said, swaying into the room. "Some nasty bounty hunter tried to kill Oliver yesterday."
"What bounty hunter?" Had it been Edward?
She waved a hand. "We were never formally introduced. Oliver wouldn't let me kill him, so he escaped, and we had to move."
It sounded reasonable, but... "Where is he now?"
"We'll take you to him. We've got a car waiting outside."
"Why didn't Inger come for me?"
She shrugged. "Oliver gives orders and I follow them." A look passed over her lovely face--hatred.
"How long has he been your master?"
"Too long," she said.
I stared at them all, gun still out but not pointed at anyone. They hadn't offered to hurt me. So why didn't I want to put the gun up? Because I'd seen what the lamia changed into, and it had scared me.
"Why does Oliver need to see me so soon?"
"He wants your answer."
"I haven't decided yet whether to give him the Master of the City."
"All I know is that I was told to bring you. If I don't, he'll be angry. I don't want to be punished, Ms. Blake; please come with us."