Blood Engines(36)

 

Letting go of her pride when it conflicted with the best interests of her city was one of the hardest things about being chief sorcerer. She simply couldn’t engage in a pissing contest with this ghost-fucking bear. There was too much to lose.

 

“Take me to the Cornerstone tomorrow, and I’ll get out of your pelt,” Marla said. “I’ll let you get back to ravishing the dead.”

 

It was hardly an exit line for the centuries, but she’d had a long day, and it would have to do.

 

 

 

 

 

Marla found B and Rondeau, still alone in the hot tub. Marla crouched behind them. “I thought you’d be hip-deep in some fan of yours by now, Bowman,” she said. “And you, Rondeau, why aren’t I pulling you off Zara and dragging you out of this party against your will?”

 

“Zara was otherwise occupied already,” Rondeau said, glaring down at the bubbling water in the hot tub. “She’s an impatient woman with many strange and varied needs.”

 

“Took off with another woman, huh?” Marla said, grinning.

 

“No comment,” Rondeau said. He squinted at the house. “I note with interest that you aren’t on fire, nor are you a purple flurry of killing rage, so may I assume that Mr. Finch wasn’t home?”

 

“You underestimate my diplomatic skills, Rondeau. Finch and I talked. And, admittedly, indulged in some typical primate dominance behavior. He says he’ll take us to…” She glanced at B, then back at Rondeau. “He’ll take us where we need to go tomorrow morning.”

 

“You trust him?”

 

“Rondeau, I’m surprised at you. Of course I don’t trust him. But I think he’ll do as he said. I’d cause him too much grief otherwise. Anyway, I expect to have my business done by tomorrow morning, and we’ll be out of here by tomorrow afternoon.”

 

“I don’t think so, Marla,” B said. “You really should listen, I have these dreams, and something terrible is going to—”

 

Marla sighed. “Listen, B-grade seer-boy, nobody ever taught you this, I guess, but there’s no such thing as destiny. You guys who see as through a glass darkly and all that, you’re just seeing possibilities, likelihoods, okay? You extrapolate beyond the limits of normal logic, or you get whispered at by various supernatural beings—and they all have agendas to promote and axes to grind, believe me, they don’t report in an objective manner—but you don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybe last night in your dream the best-case scenario was pretty goddamn awful, but things have changed now, and if you get hit in the head by a vision tonight, I bet you’ll see something different, like me and Rondeau getting on a plane and flying out of here, mission accomplished. Got it?”

 

“I hope you’re right,” B said. “But if not, if I need to find you—”

 

“You’re a psychic,” Marla said. “I guess you’ll just have to predict where we’ll be. Come on, Rondeau, let’s get back to the hotel. We’ve got to get up early. See you, Bowman. I’ll try to catch one of your movies on DVD when I get back home.”

 

“Take it easy, B,” Rondeau said. “And don’t take it personally. Marla just does things her own way.”

 

“Otherwise known as ‘the right way,’” she said, and waved a hand to dispel the soft keep-away spell she’d cast on the hot tub. People started heading for the water right away. She stood up, and Rondeau clambered out of the tub. They headed for the door, leaving B behind.

 

 

 

 

 

7

 

 

 

Before Rondeau and Marla had walked a block from Finch’s house, a man stepped out of an alleyway and blocked the sidewalk in front of them. He was broad-shouldered and short, a squat bulldog of a man, wearing what looked like a black karate gi. Marla and Rondeau moved to walk around him, and he slid over to block the way.

 

“I hope you’re a mugger,” Marla said, cracking her knuckles. “I’ve only whipped one ass so far tonight, and I could go for another.”

 

“You should look for easier pickings,” Rondeau said cheerfully. “She’ll use your head for a punching bag.”

 

“My master sends his greetings,” the man said. His voice was formal, and he spoke with a faint Chinese accent.

 

“You work for the Celestial?” Marla said. “Have you come to drag us back to his lair, or just to kill us?” Rondeau was, prudently, stepping back, putting Marla between himself and the other man.