Compact with the Devil: A Novel by Bethany Maines Read Free Book Online

rain covering the world in dirty film and admitted a gust of cold wind into the airport that broke Nikki from her thoughts of Z’ev, warm California nights, and salsa at Club Caliente. Daylight had long ago faded from the sky. She was definitely going to hold Mrs. M to her promise about approving any winter wardrobe purchases. A newer-model Mercedes pulled into a cab space and a woman got out, giving the European two-fingered salute to a cabbie who had the nerve to comment. Taking a deep breath, Nikki walked out into the elements; this had to be her ride.
    “Nicole?” said the woman, surveying her uncertainly.
    “Astriz?” replied Nikki. There was a silent moment where they measured each other, and then the woman nodded. She was about thirty-five and wore a pair of black slacks with suspenders over a crisp white button-up shirt. A beige trench coat, black driving gloves, and newsboy cap completed the ensemble. Her blond hair shot out from under the cap in defiant spikes.
    “This way,” Astriz said, jerking her head at the car.
    “You’re not what I expected,” said Astriz in German-accented English once they were on the road.
    “Well, I’m sure you were expecting someone with a coat,” said Nikki, holding her fingers in front of the heater. She knew what was coming next, but she was hoping to avoid it.
    “Heh, yes,” said Astriz, lighting a long thin cigarette and cracking the driver’s-side window an inch. “But also, I thought you would be taller and perhaps a little older.” She blew smoke out the side of her mouth toward the open window and cranked the heat with one hand. “I worked with Valerie once, you know?” the woman said.
    “No,” said Nikki, pausing slightly, “I didn’t.”
    “She nearly got me killed.”
    “She shot me in the chest,” said Nikki, trying to keep her tone neutral. “Twice.”
    “Then it is probably a good thing she is gone,” said Astriz with a laugh.
    Nikki shrugged and continued to rub her hands together over the vent.
    “But, uh, I hear you made them keep her name on the wall?” Astriz glanced at her sidelong, only taking her eyes off the road for a second.
    Nikki leaned back in her seat. Talking about Val was one of her least favorite things. But she was getting used to this particular conversation. Val had been the stuff of legend, and the circumstances of her death had spread like wildfire through Carrie Mae. Astriz wasn’t the first person to think Nikki would be taller or older.
    “I don’t think how she died should negate how she lived,” said Nikki.
    “She wasn’t always bad,” said Astriz, a little sadly.
    “Not always,” agreed Nikki.
    “But she wasn’t always very good either,” said Astriz, suddenly grinning at her. “If we have time, we will drink to her memory and spit on her grave for the number of times she punched us in the face!”
    “That might be a lot,” said Nikki.
    “Yes!” exclaimed Astriz.
    “We have a job to do first,” said Nikki, laughing.
    “Ah, yes, Cano. I was surprised that they sent you. It is a European problem.”
    “He has a violent history,” said Nikki. “I have training in how to handle such cases.”
    “Ah, the young American hotshot.” Astriz seemed gleeful to have a label to put on Nikki.
    “Just looking to help,” said Nikki self-deprecatingly. “Tell me about Cano.”
    “A strange man. Doesn’t he know that the Basques are out? It is the Muslims who are in right now.”
    “I don’t think terrorists think of themselves as a fad,” said Nikki dryly, and Astriz shrugged.
    “Well, Cano might not, but the old associate he contacted last night in Villingen certainly did. Wilmer has a niece who is with us. Wilmer’s statement was that he was too old for that sort of nonsense. He sent Cano farther up the road just to get him out of his house.”
    “Where did he send him?”
    “To another ‘old friend’ who might have a ‘project’ that Cano would like. A Gypsy named Voges. Our operative