It’s a military cop named Vetis. He runs my security squad. He’s a mother-hen pain in my ass but he’s an experienced vet with his shit wired tight. He looks like Eliot Ness if Eliot Ness had a horse skull for a head.
“I’m staying but the lady will be right out.”
Vetis goes outside. I nod toward the door.
“Your caravan is waiting.”
Marchosias straightens to leave but doesn’t move.
“You never come back with us. Why not ride in my limousine with me? It’s very comfortable and roomy.”
All the councilors travel in individual limos and vans between a dozen guard vehicles. It’s like the president, the pope, and Madonna cruising town with a company of demon Wyatt Earps riding shotgun.
“Thanks, but I have my own way back.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“Would you?”
She picks up her bag.
“Probably not.”
“Anyway, I like to clear my head after a meeting.”
“Of course. I’ll see you in three days.”
“It’s a date.”
She slides a leather satchel over her shoulder. Rumor is that the leather is the tanned skin of an old political opponent.
I call after her.
“One more thing. I know one of you is gunning for me. When I find out who it is, I’m going to stuff their skull with skyrockets and set them off like the Fourth of July. Feel free to tell the others. Or keep it to yourself. You’re smart. You’ll know which is best.”
She raises her eyebrows slightly. This time in amusement. She gives me a brief smile and walks out.
Of course she’s not going to tell the others. Just like none of them said a word to her when I told them.
“That got her attention,” says Bill.
“I already had her attention. She won’t tell the others, but I want to see if she tells anyone else.”
Bill shakes his head.
“She’s not going to tell a soul. She’s got a knife tucked up that right sleeve, you know.”
“Everyone knows. That’s what it’s there for.”
When Bill starts to pour me another drink, I put my hand over the glass.
“How do you know she’s not the one making a play for you?”
“I don’t. I don’t know about any of them. I’m just stirring the pot and waiting for something interesting to happen.”
“That sounds like putting your boot up the ass of fate, and that’s a mite dangerous.”
I shrug and puff on the Malediction.