A family was loading up a grey van with coolers and a picnic hamper. The man smiled. “I don’t think we’ll get many more days like this.”
“I think you’re right.” It was that pleasant small talk that you use with people whose names you don’t know but whose faces you keep seeing. We were neighbors, so we said hello and good-bye to each other, but nothing else. That was the way I liked it. When I came home, I didn’t want someone coming over to borrow a cup of sugar.
The only exception I made was Mrs. Pringle, and she understood my need for privacy.
The apartment was warm and quiet inside. I locked the door and leaned against it. Home, ah. I tossed the leather jacket on the back of the couch and smelled perfume. It was flowery and delicate with a powdery undertaste that only the really expensive ones have. It wasn’t my brand.
I pulled the Browning and put my back to the door. A man stepped around the corner from the dining room area. He was tall, thin, with black hair cut short in front, long in back, the latest style. He just stood there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, smiling at me.
A second man came up from behind the couch, shorter, more muscular, blond, smiling. He sat on the couch, hands where I could see them. Nobody had any weapons, or none that I could see.
“Who the hell are you?”
A tall black man came out of the bedroom. He had a neat mustache, and dark sunglasses hid his eyes.
The lamia stepped out beside him. She was in human form, in the same red dress as yesterday. She wore scarlet high heels today, but nothing else had changed.
“We’ve been waiting for you, Ms. Blake.”
“Who are the men?”
“My harem.”
“I don’t understand.”
“They belong to me.” She trailed red nails down the black man’s hand hard enough to leave a thin line of blood. He just smiled.
“What do you want?”
“Mr. Oliver wants to see you. He sent us to fetch you.”
“I know where the house is. I can drive there on my own.”
“Oh, no, we’ve had to move,” she said, swaying into the room. “Some nasty bounty hunter tried to kill Oliver yesterday.”
“What bounty hunter?” Had it been Edward?
She waved a hand. “We were never formally introduced. Oliver wouldn’t let me kill him, so he escaped, and we had to move.”
It sounded reasonable, but… “Where is he now?”
“We’ll take you to him. We’ve got a car waiting outside.”
“Why didn’t Inger come for me?”
She shrugged. “Oliver gives orders and I follow them.” A look passed over her lovely face—hatred.
“How long has he been your master?”
“Too long,” she said.
I stared at them all, gun still out but not pointed at anyone. They hadn’t offered to hurt me. So why didn’t I want to put the gun up? Because I’d seen what the lamia changed into, and it had scared me.
“Why does Oliver need to see me so soon?”
“He wants your answer.”
“I haven’t decided yet whether to give him the Master of the City.”
“All I know is that I was told to bring you. If I don’t, he’ll be angry. I don’t want to be punished, Ms. Blake; please come with us.”
How do you punish a lamia? Only one way to find out. “How does he punish you?”
The lamia stared at me. “That is a very personal question.”
“I didn’t mean it to be.”
“Forget it.” She swayed towards me. “Shall we go?” She had stopped just in front of me, close enough to touch.
I was beginning to feel silly with the gun out, so I put it up. Nobody was threatening me. A novel approach.
Normally, I still would have offered to follow them in my car, but my car was dead. So… if I wanted to meet Oliver, I had to go with them.
I wanted to meet Oliver. I wasn’t willing to give him Jean-Claude, but I was willing to give him Alejandro. Or at least enlist his aid against Alejandro. I also wanted to know if it was Edward who had tried to kill him. There weren’t that many of us in the business. Who else could it be?
“All right, let’s go,” I said. I got my leather jacket from the couch and opened the door. I motioned them all out the door. The men went without a word, the lamia last.
I locked the door behind us. They waited politely out in the hall for me. The lamia took the tall black man’s arm. She smiled. “Boys, one of you offer the lady your arm.”
Blondie and black-hair turned to look at me. Black-hair smiled. I hadn’t been with this many smiling people since I bought my last used car.
They both offered me their arms, like in some late movie. “Sorry, guys, I don’t need an escort.”
“I’ve trained them to be gentlemen, Ms. Blake; take advantage of it. There are precious few gentlemen around these days.”
I couldn’t argue with that, but I also didn’t need help down the stairs. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine.”
“As you like, Ms. Blake.” She turned to the two men. “You two are to take special care of Ms. Blake.” She turned back to me. “A woman should always have more than one man.”
I fought the urge to shrug. “Anything you say.”
She gave a brilliant smile and strutted down the hall on her man’s arm. The two men sort of fell in beside me. The lamia spoke back over her shoulder, “Ronald here is my special beau. I don’t share him; sorry.”
I had to smile. “That’s fine, I’m not greedy.”
She laughed, a high-pitched delighted sound with an edge of giggle to it. “Not greedy; oh, that’s very good, Ms. Blake, or may I call you Anita?”
“Anita’s fine.”
“Then you must call me Melanie.”
“Sure,” I said. I followed her and Ronald down the hall. Blondie and Smiley hovered on either side of me, lest I trip and stub my toe. We’d never get down the stairs without one of us falling.
I turned to Blondie. “I believe I will take your arm.” I smiled back at Smiley. “Could we have a little room here?”
He frowned, but he stepped back. I slipped my left hand through Blondie’s waiting arm. His forearm swelled under my hand. I couldn’t tell if he was flexing or was just that musclebound. But we all made it down the stairs safely with lonely Smiley bringing up the rear.
The lamia and Ronald were waiting by a large black Lincoln Continental. Ronald held the door for the lamia, then slid into the driver’s seat.
Smiley rushed forward to open the door for me. How had I known he would? Usually I complain about things like that, but the whole thing was too strange. If the worst thing that happened to me today was having overzealous men open doors for me, I’d be doing fine.
Blondie slid into the seat next to me, sliding me to the middle of the seat. The other one had run around and was getting in the other side. I was going to end up sandwiched between them. No big surprise.
The lamia named Melanie turned around in her seat, propping her chin on her arm. “Feel free to make out on the way. They’re both very good.”
I stared into her cheerful eyes. She seemed to be serious. Smiley put his arm across the back of the seat, brushing my shoulders. Blondie tried to take my hand, but I eluded him. He settled for touching my knee. Not an improvement.
“I’m really not into public sex,” I said. I moved Blondie’s hand back to his own lap.
Smiley’s hand slid around my shoulder. I moved up in the seat away from both of them. “Call them off,” I said.
“Boys, she’s not interested.”
The men scooted back from me, as close to their sides of the car as they could get. Their legs still gently touched mine, but at least nothing else was touching.
“Thank you,” I said.
“If you change your mind during the drive, just tell them. They love taking orders, don’t you, boys?”
The two men nodded, smiling. My, weren’t we a happy little bunch? “I don’t think I’ll change my mind.”