Time for a gesture of trust—as if I trusted anyone. I grabbed both my guns and put them of the table with the handles facing William, an old custom Old Man once showed me. This demonstrated I wasn't looking to kill anyone … for now.
"Fine, there," I said.
Izumi and the wolf in the navy suit revived the male wolves, guiding them to the table and to chairs. William looked at Izumi and Gloria, a little confused with what was going on. His eyes were now light brown, deceptively human. Angie took a seat to William's right, the brunette in the next seat down. The wolf in the navy suit took the first chair to William's left. Other male wolves fell in past the navy suit in order of dominance. One wolf had to come on my side of the table. Izumi sat between him and me. The wolf seemed happy as a scampering pup to sit next to her. I guess he had a thing for ice princesses—the real kind.
William said, "If we are not to fight, then what?"
"I need someone with a better nose than mine for a job I'm on," I explained, "and the way I see it, you're in my territory and still alive, so you owe me."
William's voice finally warmed with anger, "You think I'd let one of my wolves wear your collar just because we're here uninvited?"
"Think of that wolf as a liaison, while I make up my mind on what I should do about all of this," I poured a refill in my cup and drank it down at once. I wanted them to know I was better at everything than they were.
His wolves relaxed as the ones who'd passed out began to stir awake. Izumi was also flirting with them, a pleasant distraction. I could see they liked her company. She'd been right; these wolves were better than most.
The bourbon went fast. I called for more, "Hey, Gloria, can you bring us a bottle of Faire tears?"
"What's that?" Angie asked.
"Faire tears, it clears your mind when you get hit by too much magic, expensive as hell on a Saturday night," I said.
"There's no way you can get me so drunk," William said, "I'll give you one of my wolves."
That was true. Alphas are super protective of their packs. Every wolf is family. It would take more than just me saying I wouldn't kill the wolf in my care. It would take a binding oath.
"Fine, I'll give you my word as a member of the Atlantean demon clan, no harm will come from me or mine to any wolf that's with me."
I might be demon in heart only, but my word's as good as any accursed hell spawn's. No demon in our clan has ever broken his word. Words form contracts. Contracts bring power and gold. Breaking one's word has only one punishment—death. There is an Accord to the universe that constrains demons, fey, angels, and most other inhuman things from breaking their word. Those stupid enough to do so tend to die in awful ways—those that can die. Those that can't often wish they could.
William knew this. He finally looked convinced. "Okay, but before we get to this liaison business, allow me to introduce my pack, those that are here."
He pointed at the redhead, "This is Angie, our attorney. She's very good. Next to her is Kate she's an artist who's had numerous gallery shows, receiving much critical acclaim."
I pretended to look impressed without taking my eyes off Angie's breasts. I said, "Hello Angie, Kate."
"Hello," Angie said, "I'm up here by the way."
"Sure you are," I left my eyes where they wanted to be.
William was trying hard not to laugh, doing a poor job. He'd have done a better job if Angie were the female Alpha, and not a mere submissive. He continued introductions on his other side. "This is Andrew, my second in command. He has a PHD in genetics and a doctorate in internal medicine."
Andrew said, "It's a unique opportunity to meet a dragon mage, first time I have even heard of someone like you."
"No one else is like me," I said. "When God saw me, he had the mold maker drawn and quartered, shot, and stabbed three times."
William sniffed at some Faire tears, sipped, and then drained his cup. He said, "The wolf clutching his side, trying to wake up, is Jake. He's young, but handles himself well. He does construction, and occasionally works as a male dancer." William pointed at the wolf beside Izumi. "The kid trying really hard to get into Izumi's pants is Nick, our accountant and financial planner. He's insightful, and god-awful intuitive."
I nodded at him, murmuring, "We'll have to talk sometime."
This was going very well, maybe a little too well. Not ten minutes ago, we were about to kill each other. Nothing like booze for bonding.
I asked a question, "Who's the best tracker in the pack?"
He jerked a thumb at Angie. "The wolf you've most pissed off. She has the best nose of us all."
Great, this was going to be fun. I hated lawyers. The only good ones are those that have been beaten to death with a sack of dead rats, while getting Sodomised in public by a tranny. But lawyers do pay well. And then there were those tits…
"Okay, if she's your best," I said. "For being in my territory without asking, I'll give you guys a pass, but I need to know why you're here and why that particular house."
The wolves grew still, suddenly on edge. William said, "Sarah liked the house and fell in love with it. She wrote me about living there, how wonderful everything was. Then her letters stopped coming. We're here to find out why."
I asked the obvious question. "And Sarah is?"
"My granddaughter. I raised her from childhood, after her parents were killed in that space-zombie thing back in the sixties. She's half fey, so she wanted to be out west, where most of the fey have settled. She wanted to explore the non-wolf part of her heritage."
It made sense. Both L.A. and San Francisco have large fey communities.
"She may not be pack," Angie said, "but we helped raise her, and we love her, so if she's in trouble, we're going to fix it."
Andrew said, "Damn straight."
"Well, good luck with that," I said. "Meanwhile, do we have a deal?"
William looked at Angie. She met his gaze. Some silent message passed between them I couldn't catch. He looked back at me and nodded. "Sure."
The pack stayed for a while longer, drinking, talking. Gloria took a seat next to me and made sure they knew they could come back anytime, explaining her bar welcomed anyone willing to behave. Though few vamps care for wolves, she was quite warm to them. Her hand went under the table and the next thing I knew, someone was playing with my joystick.
Izumi joined the wolf-girls, chatting about the shops in LA, which ones were owned by fey and other kinds of creatures of the night. I lost interest when they started to talk about shoes, and Gloria began licking my ear.
William abruptly stood. "We should go before it gets too late. Mr. Caine, I'll leave Angie you with you. Don't take any liberties that might displease me."
I gave him my soul-of-discretion, misunderstood-innocence look.
For some reason he didn't buy it.
The wolves got up, said goodbye, and left. Izumi, and Angie were still talking, so I pried myself loose from Gloria, and went to bug Gray. That sword he'd materialized interested me. Besides, I had to rip him a new one. Carrying my glass and a tumbler of Faire tears, I took a seat next to the half-angel. Gray's mug had gone empty. He held it out to me. I poured in the last of what I had, setting the empty tumbler on the bar.
I hit him with a cold stare. "Next time you make use of your angel abilities to make me happy and get along with everyone, I will rip your wings off and thumbtack them to my wall." I smiled so he'd know I meant it. "So who put you up to it? Izumi? Gloria?"
Gray drained his mug dry and belched. "Nope, your Old Man asked me here, and by the way, these aren't Faire tears.
Close, but no tinker-bells."
"So what the hell have I been drinking?"
Gray smiled and leaned in close. "I'll never tell."
"Bastard."
He patted me on the back, and fell in on himself, moving without moving, flushing himself down a wrinkle in time. I stared at his empty barstool a moment, then got up and went over to the girls, who were trading phone numbers. Weird; a vampire, a werewolf, and an ice demon, telling jokes, drinking, all hot enough to melt steel. I didn't know if I ought to be scared out of my mind, or start fantasizing immediately.
I caught Izumi's eye, "Hey, can you drop me and wolf-girl off somewhere?"
"Where?"
"Where a cold trail is getting colder."
* * *
Outside the hotel, we parked behind my car. Angie and I got out and looked for signs of the former apocalypse. Nothin'. Old Man knew how to pull strings; the clean-up was perfect, reality now reflected total normalcy.
I slammed my door. "Let's get this done before I sober up."
Izumi waved and drove off.
Angie and I walked inside the hotel. A uniformed security guard sat at a central station in the lobby. A Japanese man spoke emphatically to him, asking for a limo to be brought around. Hiro's bodyguard broke off seeing me. I saw recognition in his eyes and dislike in his face, though he hurriedly masked his response. It was good he was handy. It would save me an elevator ride.
The man took a few steps to meet me. His eyes were cold and dead. I could tell he was packing a gun under his jacket. In accented English, he said, "What do you want, gaijin."
"Call me that again and I'll shoot you."
Angie looked at me like I was bluffing, or possibly being humorous. She didn't know me too well.
"Why our master needs a gaijin dog, I do no know."
I whipped out an automatic and shot the man just above the knee, making it a clean in and out wound. Guy was lucky I wasn't sporting explosive rounds. He fell, hands pressed to the wound, screaming like a girl. I pointed my weapon at his good leg.
Angie gasped and seized my arm.
I raised an eyebrow at her. "What? I told him not to call me that."
Coming off the elevator, several men in dark suits ran over. One had a gun out. I shot it out of his hand. If the Lone Ranger could do it, so could I. I pointed at the dark suit on the floor. "You, call Hiro, or do nothing ever again." In no mood to deal with flunkies tonight, I was speaking the international language, violence.
The man pulled out his phone, speed-dialed, and waited. A few seconds later, the sitting man spoke Japanese, staring at me like I was some kind of slavering beast—the dangerous kind. After a moment he said, "Your name, sir?"
"Caine Deathwalker," I said. He didn't remember my name from the last visit. I didn't think he'd forget it again.
The man repeated my name and listened some more, looking at me again with ever widening eyes. Possibly, my real nature as a demonic agent had been explained to him. He put his phone away and said something in Japanese to the dark suits surrounding us. They had their weapons out, but pointed down at the floor—ready just in case. They holstered their guns and very slowly formed a line behind the fallen man. They faced me and bowed, even the cripple on the floor.
I holstered my gun.
A few minutes later, Hiro arrived. By then, the wounded man had been dragged off and someone else was on duty in the lobby.
"You have news?" Hiro asked.
I smiled, flashing him with my false confidence as I ignored his question. "I need something Haruka may have worn recently."
He nodded understanding, made the call, and a woman in a tea green and gold kimono soon appeared with a sweater. She gave it to Hiro. He gave it to me. I gave it to Angie. Angie looked for someone to give it to, found no one, and turned back to me, confusion in her eyes.
"Are you sure you're a wolf?" I asked.
I dragged her over to the stairs. We climbed up to the restaurant where I'd last seen the girls. It was clean. No meat puppets. No screaming customers. No blood. A new hostess was on duty.
She smiled at me. "Table for two?"
"Two café mochas, to go," I said. I turned to Angie, pointed at the sweater and said, "Take a deep whiff then sniff the carpet. Find me a trail to follow."