Vampire Assassin League Bundle Five - Loneliness by Jackie Ivie Read Free Book Online

in the pit of his belly and spread outward. It probably showed in his one-word answer.
    “Yes.”
    “Good. Luckily, your mate is still on the premises. I took the liberty of having a message delivered to her. She’s invited to an incredibly late visit at your castle. You might wish to dress in something a bit more appropriate. I hope this information helps a bit. De Crecy? You there?”
    The phone went silent from where he’d dropped it. He didn’t waste time ending the call. He could fetch it later. He had to reach his castle. And prepare.

 
    CHAPTER SIX
     
    “Thanks for giving me full credit for the bust. I owe you.”
    “He won’t be harming little boys from where he’s going. That’s what matters.”
    Rachel didn’t look up from her pseudo-tankard of spiced mead as she spoke. The tankard was crafted of heavy plastic. Fake. Just like almost everything around her. They were sitting on benches that looked like they’d come from the nearest kiddie park, under an enormous tent that looked machine-crafted, and watching some guys at one end sing raucous lyrics set to tunes they coaxed from some odd-looking instruments. It probably would’ve been better if they’d foregone the amplifier and microphone system, but they’d have been drowned out by the noise, otherwise. The place was doing a brisk business. Still. Everywhere she looked, people were having a good time. Or faking it.
    Not Rachel.
    She felt flat. Dull. Empty. Everything seemed murky and dark. Maybe it was due to the smoke coming off barrels of oil they’d placed all about the area. Or, it could be the torches sputtering away in their brackets from spikes that had been stuck into the ground. Good thing they had both ends of the tent open. They needed the fresh air.
    “You know ...instead of looking at that drink, you could enjoy it. Or we might as well get back to the hotel,” Eleanor told her.
    “You don’t have to stay.”
    “And I thought you hated that outfit. Couldn’t wait...to get it off.”
    “Yeah. I did.” Rachel started pulling hairpins from her hair with one hand. The other lifted her mead. Took a sip. It was good stuff. Smooth. Sweet. Tasty.
    “I don’t suppose you got his name?” Eleanor asked.
    Rachel’s throat stopped on the swallow. Her heart followed suit. She had to force the mead down to reply.
    “Who?” she asked in a nonchalant tone.
    “The guy at your feet. The one in leather shoulder pads, gray-shaded tights, and kick-ass sword. The guy with the fantastic abs. And chest. And arms. And legs. Oh, screw it. I’m going to say ...just about all of him was fantastic. That one.”
    “Oh. I got his name.”
    “Sweet!”
    “Look. Munson. Can we talk of something else?”
    “Right. Like that’s going to work on me. I do interrogations in my sleep. So. Why the long face, honey? You got his name. Did you get his number?”
    Rachel put the tankard back down on the tabletop, avoiding a sticky spot some earlier drinker had left. They didn’t use tablecloths in here. It would be a waste. They’d be closing this place down in a couple of hours. Probably to clean up.
    She worked the last of her hairpins free and pulled the hat off. She immediately straightened as if a great weight had come off her. She didn’t take down or unfasten her braids. They didn’t make her top-heavy. She wrapped the gauze about the cone-thing before putting it in her lap. She was stalling. It didn’t work. Munson was right. She was a great interrogator. The Brits probably should’ve requested her help with that part of the operation as well.
    “You know ...we’ve got all night,” Munson said.
    “He said he didn’t have a number.”
    “That’s ridiculous.”
    “I know.”
    “Oh. Shit. I’m sorry. Sounds like he gave you the brush-off. The bastard. Give me his name. I’ll put out a warrant on him.”
    “It’s okay. Really. I mean, what am I supposed to do with him anyway?”
    Her companion sputtered, and then laughed pretty heartily.