Bedlam Boyz(82)

"Let's drink to the one thing we both know is true," Perenor said, raising his glass. "To partnership."

"To partnership," she echoed, and drank slowly, her eyes never leaving him for an instant.

To partnership, she thought, and all the pleasures of it . . . until the moment when I don't need you anymore, my lord Perenor.



Razz sat back in the back seat of the white Mercedes, his fingers drumming an idle pattern on the leather upholstery. Something was wrong and he knew it, but he couldn't put a finger on it. Maybe everything looked like it was fine, but he knew something was wrong. Here he was, in the back seat of his favorite car, good blow drawn out on the mirror in thin little lines on the seat next to him, and his best girl promising to meet him later tonight. But something was wrong.

His mother had said it when he was just a little kid, that he had something special. The eyes, she'd called it, talking about how her mother had had it. A way to know when something bad was going down. And that was what he felt right now, with the hair prickling on the back of his neck and the tight feeling in his belly.

The car phone rang. Flyboy, Razz's driver, picked it up, listened for a moment, and then handed it back to Razz. "It's Hotshot, bro," he said. Razz took the phone from his outstretched hand.

Hotshot's voice was thin and faint across the crackling phone line. "We've been following Shari's people like you asked," Hotshot said. "Just like you thought, they led us straight to that white chick, the one that did the number on Marcus. I saw the kid take off like a bat out of hell in a VW with some black mama, heading toward L.A."

"You got license plates on her, bro?" Razz asked.

Hotshot laughed a little. "More than that, Razz, I know the sister. It's the lady that works with the cops downtown. Winters, her name is. I met her last time they booked me. She's a good sister, Razz," he added. "She helped one of my cousins get a job, sent a friend of mine's little brother to the gangbanger camp in Malibu, kept him out of county jail."

"Yeah, well, we won't do shit to her, but I want that little white bitch," Razz said. "I don't know what she did to Marcus, but it was some serious shit, you hear me? You find out where this mama lives; we'll go drop by and pay our respects later tonight."

"You got it, bro," Hotshot said. Razz heard the click of him disconnecting.

He held the cellular phone in his hand for a moment longer, thinking about things. That feeling of something being wrong still wouldn't go away.

He leaned forward to speak to his driver. "Stop by the house," he ordered, "I want to pick up some heavy shit, some of the Uzis and automatics. I have a feeling about tonight. I think we'll need it."



The sun was setting at the far end of the San Fernando Valley, a disc of dark orange light disappearing behind the hills, turning the sky to shades of pink and pale blue. It was an effect that Perenor knew was caused by the smog, but it was beautiful in spite of that. He heard Shari's breath catch as she looked at the gorgeous sunset.

"Such beauty from such filth," she commented, handing her car keys to the valet as she stepped out of the car. Perenor took her arm and walked with her to the entrance of the restaurant where the doorman stood, holding the door open for them. This was his favorite Japanese restaurant in the Valley, an elegant restaurant nestled against the hills. It was, fortunately enough, also close to where the young mage lived. Five minutes away, just off Laurel Canyon, he thought with a satisfied smile.

Inside the restaurant, Perenor glanced past the tables where humans sat talking and eating, looking for his daughter and Nataniel. They were seated in a far corner, talking animatedly. As he and Shari walked toward them, Perenor could hear the edges of their business discussion.

"But you're going to have to amortize, which means that your return on investment will drop over the five-year period down to forty percent!"

"But what if I recapitalize at the end of the fifth year?" Nataniel asked. He glanced up and saw Perenor and Shari as they walked up to the table. "Ah, my friend Perenor! It's good to see you again," he said, standing and clasping Perenor's hand. "Your daughter has amazing insights into this new venture of mine. I'm delighted that you were able to introduce us."

"I guessed that it might be profitable for both of you," Perenor said, holding out a chair for Shari, then seating himself at the end of the table. "Ria is an extraordinarily talented young woman, as we've seen from the success of her Llewellyn Corporation."

He saw that Ria smiled at that, but her eyes were cool and assessing. She's learning, he thought with a touch of regret. She no longer blindly worships me. Which is a pity, really. If she ever becomes a danger to me . . .