It was my turn to take a deep breath. A few months ago I would have said no. But now, I just didn't know. "I'm not sure anymore, Mr. Ruebens."
"If the new legislation goes through, Ms. Blake, vampires will be able to vote. Doesn't that frighten you?"
"Yes," I said.
"Then help us."
"Quit dancing around, Ruebens; just tell me what you want."
"Very well, then. We want the daytime resting place of the Master Vampire of the City."
I just looked at him for a few seconds. "Are you serious?"
"I am in deadly earnest, Ms. Blake."
I had to smile. "What makes you think I know the Master's daytime retreat?"
It was Inger who answered. "Ms. Blake, come now. If we can admit to advocating murder, then you can admit to knowing the Master." He smiled ever so gently.
"Tell me where you got the information and maybe I'll confirm it, or maybe I won't."
His smile widened just a bit. "Now who's dancing?"
He had a point. "If I say I know the Master, what then?"
"Give us his daytime resting place," Ruebens said. He was leaning forward, an eager, nearly lustful look on his face. I wasn't flattered. It wasn't me getting his rocks off. It was the thought of staking the Master.
"How do you know the Master is a he?"
"There was an article in the Post-Dispatch. It was careful to mention no name, but the creature was clearly male," Ruebens said.
I wondered how Jean-Claude would like being referred as a "creature." Better not to find out. "I give you an address and you go in and what, stake him through the heart?"
Ruebens nodded. Inger smiled.
I shook my head. "I don't think so."
"You refuse to help us?" Ruebens asked.
"No, I simply don't know the daytime resting place." I was relieved to be able to tell the truth.
"You are lying to protect him," Ruebens said. His face was growing darker; deep frown wrinkles showed on his forehead.
"I really don't know, Mr. Ruebens, Mr. Inger. If you want a zombie raised, we can talk; otherwise..." I let the sentence trail off and gave them my best professional smile. They didn't seem impressed.
"We consented to meeting you at this ungodly hour, and we are paying a handsome fee for the consultation. I would think the least you could do is be polite."
I wanted to say, "You started it," but that would sound childish. "I offered you coffee. You turned it down."
Ruebens's scowl deepened, little anger lines showing around his eyes. "Do you treat all your... customers this way?"
"The last time we met, you called me a zombie-loving bitch. I don't owe you anything."
"You took our money."
"My boss did that."
"We met you here at dawn, Ms. Blake. Surely you can meet us halfway."
I hadn't wanted to meet with Ruebens at all, but after Bert took their money, I was sort of stuck with it. I'd set the meeting at dawn, after my night's work, but before I went to bed. This way I could drive home and get eight hours uninterrupted sleep. Let Ruebens's sleep be interrupted.
"Could you find out the location of the Master's retreat?" Inger asked.
"Probably, but if I did, I wouldn't give it to you."
"Why not?" he asked.
"Because she is in league with him," Ruebens said.
"Hush, Jeremy."
Ruebens opened his mouth to protest, but Inger said, "Please, Jeremy, for the cause."
Ruebens struggled visibly to swallow his anger, but he choked it down. Control.
"Why not, Ms. Blake?" Inger's eyes were very serious, the pleasant sparkle seeping away like melting ice.
"I've killed master vampires before, none of them with a stake."
"How then?"
I smiled. "No, Mr. Inger, if you want lessons in vampire slaying, you're going to have to go elsewhere. Just by answering your questions, I could be charged as an accessory to murder."