I turned to Bayard. There was an unhealthy flush to his cheeks, and he avoided my gaze. I'd play poker with Bayard any day. But not in front of his boss.
"Fine. I'll change into something more bulky and we'll go take a look." The pilot handed out my suitcase. The coverall and shoes were on top.
Larry came up to me. "Gee, I wished I'd thought of the coverall. This suit's not going to survive the trip."
I pulled out two pairs of coveralls. "Be prepared," I said.
He grinned. "Thanks."
I shrugged. "One good thing about being nearly the same size." I slipped off the black jacket, which left the gun in plain sight.
"Ms. Blake," Stirling said. "Why are you armed?"
I sighed. I was tired of Raymond. I hadn't even gone up the hill and I didn't want to go. The last thing I wanted to do was stand here and debate whether I needed a gun. The red blouse was short-sleeved. Visual aids are always better than lectures.
I walked over to him with my arms bent outward, exposing the inside of both forearms. There's a rather neat knife scar on my right arm, nothing too dramatic. My left arm is a mess. It had only been a little over a month since a shapeshifting leopard had opened my arm. A nice doctor had stitched it back together, but there is only so much you can do with claw marks. The cross-shaped burn scar that some inventive vampire servants had put on me was now a little crooked because of the claws. The mound of scar tissue at the bend of my arm where a vampire had bitten through the flesh and gnawed the bone dribbled white scars like water.
"Jesus," Beau said.
Stirling looked a touch pale but he held up well, like he'd seen worse. Bayard looked green. Ms. Harrison paled so that the makeup floated on her suddenly pale skin like impressionist water lilies.
"I don't go anywhere unarmed, Mr. Stirling. Live with it, because I have to."
He nodded, eyes very serious. "Fine, Ms. Blake. Is your assistant armed as well?"
"No," I said.
He nodded again. "Fine. Change, and when you're ready we'll go up."
Larry was zipping up his coverall when I walked back. "I could have been armed, you know," he said.
"You brought your gun?" I asked.
He nodded.
"Unloaded in your suitcase?"
"Just like you told me."
"Good." I let it go. Larry wanted to be a vampire executioner as well as an animator, which meant he needed to know how to use a gun. A gun with silver-plated bullets that could slow a vampire down. We'd work up to shotguns, which could take out a head and heart from a relatively safe distance. Beat the hell out of staking.
I'd gotten him a carry permit on the condition he didn't carry it concealed until I thought he was a good enough shot not to blow a hole in himself or me. I'd gotten him the permit mainly so we could carry it around in the car and go to the range in any spare moments.
The coverall went over the skirt like magic. I took off the heels and put the Nikes on. I left the coverall unzipped enough that I could go for the gun if needed, and I was set to go.
"Are you going up with us, Mr. Stirling?"
"Yes," he said.
"Then lead the way," I said.
He walked past me, glancing at the coveralls. Or maybe visualizing the gun under it. Beau started to follow but Stirling said, "No, I'll take her up alone."
Silence among the three flunkies. I'd expected Ms. Harrison to stay behind in her high-heeled pumps, but I'd been sure the two men would come along. So, from the looks on their faces, had they.
"Wait a minute. You said 'her.' You want Larry to wait down here, too?"
"Yes."
I shook my head. "He's in training. You can't learn if you don't see it done."
"Will you be doing anything that he needs to see today?"
I thought about that for a minute. "I guess not."
"I do get to come up after dark?" Larry asked.
"You'll get to see the down and dirty, Larry. Don't worry."
"Of course," Stirling said. "I have no problem with your associate doing his job."
"Why can't he come along now?" I asked.
"At the price we're paying, humor me, Ms. Blake."
He was being strangely polite, so I nodded. "Okay."
"Mr. Stirling," Bayard said, "are you sure you should go up alone?"
"Why ever not, Lionel?"
Bayard opened his mouth, closed it, then said, "No reason, Mr. Stirling."
Beau shrugged. "I'll tell the men to go home for the day." He started to turn away, then stopped. "Do you want the crew back tomorrow?"
Stirling looked at me. "Ms. Blake?"
I shook my head. "I don't know yet."
"What's your best guess?" he asked.
I looked over at the waiting men. "Do they get paid whether they show up or not?"