Small Favor(21)

"Why not," I answered. I didn't turn away from the door.
"Have I your word of safe passage?"
"You do."
"Then you have mine," the voice answered.
"Whatever," I said. I lowered my voice to an almost subvocal whisper I was sure only Thomas could hear. "Watch them. They'll try something the second they get a chance."
"Why give them the opportunity?" Thomas murmured.
"Because we might find out something important by talking. It's harder to question corpses. Switch with me."
We traded places, and I kept my staff pointed at the stairs as the mantis-thing came down them. It crouched on the topmost step it could occupy while still maintaining visual contact with the entry hall. It looked none the worse for wear for being blown to hamburger by Gard's rifle.
It crouched, the motion eerie and alien, and tilted its head almost entirely to the horizontal, first one way, then the other, as it looked at us. Then its stomach heaved. For a second I thought it was throwing up, as a yellow-and-pink mucus began to emerge from its mouth. After a second, though, it lifted its clamplike claws and gripped its head, then peeled it back and away from the mucus, the motion disturbingly akin to someone donning a too-small turtleneck sweater. A human face emerged from the mucus and gunk, while the split carapace of the head flopped about on its chest and upper back.
The Denarian looked like she was about fifteen years old, except for her hair, which was silvery grey, short, and plastered to her skull. She had huge and gorgeous green eyes, a heart-shaped face, and a delicate, pointy chin. Her skin was pale and clear, her cheekbones high, her features lovely and symmetrical. The second set of green eyes and the sigil of angelic script still glowed faintly on her forehead.
She smiled slowly. "I wasn't expecting the chain. I thought fire and force were your weapons of choice."
"You were standing on top of someone I knew," I said. "I didn't feel like burning her or blasting her through the wall."
"Foolish," the girl murmured.
"I'm still here."
"But so am I."
"You have five seconds to get to the fucking point," I said. "I'm not going to let you stall while your buddies get into position."
Mantis Girl narrowed her eyes. The eyes on her forehead narrowed as well. Trиs creepy. She nodded at Hendricks and Gard. "My business is with them. Not you, O Warden of the White Council. Give them to me. You may leave in peace. Once they are dead, I will gather my compatriots and we will depart the city without harm to any innocents."
I grunted. "What if I need them alive?"
"If you wish, I can wait until you have interrogated them."
"Yeah, that's what I want: you, standing around behind my back."
She lifted a talon. "I give you my solemn word. No harm will come to you or your companion."
"Tempting," I said.
"Shall I add in material reward as well?" Mantis Girl asked. "I'll pay you two hundred thousand, in cash."
"Why on earth would you do that?"
She shrugged a shoulder. "My quarrel is with the upstart Baron and his subjects-not the White Council. I would prefer to demonstrate my respect to your people, instead of causing an untoward altercation with them over the matter of your death."
"Uh-huh."
Her smile turned sharper. "If it pleases you, I might offer to entertain you, once business is done."
I let out a harsh burst of laughter. "Oh," I said, still chortling. "Oh, oh, oh. That's funny."
She blinked and stared at me, uncomprehending.
The expression made me laugh even harder. "You … you want me to … I mean, Hell's bells, do you think I don't know what happens to a mantis's mate once the deed is done?"
She bared her teeth in sudden anger. They were shiny and black.
"You want me to trust you," I went on, still laughing, "and you think waving some bling and some booty at me is going to get it done? God, that's so cute I could just put you in my pocket."
"Do not deny me what is mine, wizard," she snarled. "I will have them. Make a pact with me. I will honor it."
"Yeah," I said. "I've seen the way you people honor your pacts. Let me make you a counteroffer. Give me Marcone, safe and whole, and get out of town, now, and I'll let you live."
"Suppose your offer appeals. Why should I believe you would allow us to leave in peace?"
I gave her a faint smile and quietly paraphrased a dead friend. "Because I know what your word is worth, Denarian. And you know the worth of mine."
She stared at me for a moment. Then she said, "I will consult my companions and return in five minutes."
I bowed my head slightly to her. She returned the gesture and started up the stairs again.
She vanished from sight. Glass broke somewhere upstairs.
Then a red-and-black blur flashed down the stairs toward us, simultaneously with a chorus of hellish cries from outside.
Treachery doesn't work so well when the other guy expects it, and I'd had the spell ready to go since the second she'd turned her back. Mantis Girl didn't get to the bottom of the stairs before I pointed my staff at her and snarled, "Forzare!"
A hammer of pure kinetic energy slammed against her. She went flying back the way she'd come, and when she reached the top of the stairs she kept going, crashing through the wall of the house with a tremendous crunch.
No time to lose. Something came charging through the doorway, to be met by Thomas's sword and pistol. I didn't get a good look at it, but got an impression of spiraling antlers and green scales. I drew in my will, pointed my staff at the front wall of the house and murmured, "Forzare," sending out a slow pulse of motion. I let it press up against the front wall of the house, and then fed more energy into it, hardening it into a single striking surface.
Then I drew back and really let loose, roaring "Forzare!" at the top of my lungs. I unleashed everything I had into a blast of energy, which struck against the plate of force I'd just created. There was an enormous sound of screaming wood and steel, and the entire front wall of the house blasted free from its frame.
Demonic voices howled. I turned to find Thomas taking advantage of the distraction to whip his saber through scything arcs, rondello-style, cutting his opponent to ribbons. The Denarian bounded away, screaming in brassy pain.
"Dammit!" Thomas screamed at me. "That's a brand-new car!"
"Quit whining and go!" I shouted back, suiting words to action. The front wall of the house had come down like a tidal wave, shattering into a small ocean of rubble, covering the hood of the Hummer. Somewhere beneath the rubble I could hear the other Denarians trying to get free.
We rushed for the Hummer and piled in. Thomas got it started just as Mantis Girl sailed down from overhead and landed on the hood of the Hummer, denting it in sharply.
"God dammit!" Thomas snarled. He slapped the Hummer into reverse and started driving backward-while emptying his gun into Mantis Girl. Bursts of fluttering insect forms flew up from the gunshots instead of sprays of blood, but judging by the screaming it hurt her plenty. She tumbled back off the hood and vanished.
Thomas manhandled the Hummer into a turn, and we left, heading back out into the heavy snowfall.
We all rode in silence for several moments while our heart rates slowed and the terror-fueled adrenaline rush faded.
Then Thomas said, "I don't think we learned much."
"The hell we didn't," I said.
"Like what?"
"We know that there are more than five Denarians in town. And we know that they're signatories of the Accords-who apparently object to Marcone's recent elevation."
Thomas grunted acknowledgment. "What now?"
I shook my head wearily. That last spell had been a doozy. "Now? I think … " I turned my head and studied the unconscious Gard. "I think I'd better call the Council."

     
 

      Chapter Fourteen
N ow that I had not one, but two supernatural hit squads with a good reason to come after me, my options had grown sort of limited. In the end there was really only one place I could take Gard and Hendricks without endangering innocent lives: St. Mary of the Angels Church.
Which was why I told Thomas to drive us to the Carpenter house.
"I still think this is a bad idea," Thomas said quietly. The plow trucks were working hard, but so far they'd barely been keeping even with the snow, ensuring that the routes to the hospitals were clear. The streets in some places looked like World War I trenches, snow piled up head-high on either side.
"The Denarians know that we use the church as a safehouse," I said. "They'll be watching it."
Thomas grunted and checked the rearview mirror. Gard was still unconscious, but breathing. Hendricks's eyes were shut, his mouth slightly open. I didn't blame him. I hadn't been standing watch over a wounded comrade all night, and I felt like I could have taken a nap, too.
"What were those things?" Thomas asked.
"The Knights of the Blackened Denarius," I replied. "You remember Michael's sword? The nail worked into the hilt?"
"Sure," Thomas said.
"There are two others like it," I said. "Three swords. Three nails."
Thomas's eyes widened for a moment. "Wait. Those nails? From the Crucifixion?"
I nodded. "Pretty sure."
"And those things were what? Michael's opposite number?"