Danse Macabre   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

Clay seemed to think about it, then nodded. He did that apologetic smile again. «Yeah, I guess I am.»

Clay was as tall as Graham, but his hair was blond, curly, and careless. Where Graham took time and attention with his appearance, Clay just didn't seem to care. He wasn't sloppy, just comfortable. He was wearing the same black-on-black outfit, but he'd put black jogging shoes with his slacks, not dress shoes. He looked good, but a little uncomfortable out of his jeans. I sympathized.

«Stupid,» he said, «but yeah, I think the evening is starting off badly. I mean, Jean-Claude gets a message and has to run out. The two Masters of the City are all right so far, but the two women are sniping at each other. The muscle, or food, or whatever they are, just stands around looking grim, or pouty-seductive. It has the feel of something that could go south if we don't have someone to help keep it friendly.»

I took that last seriously. Clay worked security at Guilty Pleasures, and he was good at spotting trouble before it got started. It made him invaluable at the club.

«Exactly what did Meng Die do to make Asher send for Jean-Claude tonight of all nights?» I asked.

He sighed. «I'm not a hundred percent sure, but it had to be bad or Asher wouldn't have called him away from the other masters.»

I could have opened the vampire marks between us and found out what Jean-Claude was doing, but he'd warned me against doing that with new vamps in town. One, we were trying to hide some of my powers under the proverbial basket; two, Jean-Claude wasn't a hundred percent certain that some of the Masters of the City might not be able to listen in to such communications. His phrase: such communications . So, unless it was a true emergency, no mind-to-mind communication until everyone left town.

Did he need my help? No. Not against Meng Die. She was mean, and powerful, but not that powerful. I also trusted her to be smarter than to start shit bad enough that the only penalty would be death. She was like most of the old vamps, a survivor at heart.

Micah was looking at me, almost like he'd followed my line of reasoning. Out loud he said, «Jean-Claude and Asher can handle it.»

«You didn't read my mind,» I said.

He smiled, that smile that made him seem so gentle. «I read your face.»

«Great.»

He raised his eyebrows, and shrugged, as if, sorry.

Nathaniel said, «How can both of you still be wanting to be Meng Die's pomme ? She's not dependable.»

Graham laughed, a loud abrupt sound that almost startled. «Dependable.