" I stepped out of the alley and nearly bumped into a human woman wearing a tight red dress with a bodice so low and a hemline so high she might as well have been walking around naked. She was a beautiful brunette with long hair that spilled over her shoulders and framed her more than ample breasts. No rail-thin model type she. She was luscious, just this side of Rubenesque, and I felt hunger begin to rise. My needs weren't sexual, though. My hunger was literal. I wanted nothing more than to sink my teeth into her succulent flesh and tear off sweet bloody chunks of meat. Without realizing it, I took a step toward her, my hands raised, ready to reach out and snatch hold of her. But though it took every ounce of selfcontrol I possessed, I fought my hunger down and slowly lowered my hands.
" The woman gave me a knowing wink.
" 'See something you like?' she said in voice seasoned by too many cigarettes and too much whisky.
"' Too much,' I said, my own voice husky with barely suppressed need, and for perhaps the thousandth time since I'd found myself condemned to the hellish nightmare that was Nekropolis, I cursed my undead existence, I cursed my undead desires. I loathe this city, but not nearly as much as I loathe the monstrous thing I've become."
I'd had enough. I rose from the couch and swiftly turned off the Mind's Eye set, eliciting disappointed groans from the others.
"C'mon, Matt!" Scorch said. "It was just getting good!"
Bogdan was grinning so wide I thought his face might break. "That was a fascinating glimpse of the master at work. I had no idea you were such a tortured soul, Matt."
Devona's grin was just as big. "And I never knew you had a thing for well-padded brunettes."
"But that's not how it happened! I mean, it is what happened, but that's not what I was thinking at the time. For godsakes, you all know I'm not a flesh-eater!"
"Maybe you've just been suppressing the urge," Tavi said, grinning like the rest of them. "No need to feel ashamed. I'm a lyke; I understand."
I scowled at him, then turned to look at Varney. The vampire didn't even have the good grace to at least pretend to be embarrassed.
"Nothing personal, but my producer thought the footage of you tracking down Argus was a bit on the, uh, dry side. So he decided to spice it up a bit with the voiceover. He used a speech synthesizer to make it sound like you. Turned out great, huh?"
"Look, I don't know what journalistic standards you Darkfolk practice – if any – but back on Earth, a documentary is supposed to be nonfiction. Heavy emphasis on the non!"
Varney shrugged. "Sure, but that doesn't mean it can't be entertaining too, right?"
I sensed Acantha's hand in this. She'd love nothing more than to get back at me for how I'd humiliated her during her live broadcast, and it looked like she'd finally found a way.
"Can we watch some more?" Shamika asked, almost shyly. "It was fun."
"No, we cannot," I told her, then I turned to look at the others. "We're supposed to be trying to find Papa Chatha, remember?" I told them of Bogdan's failed attempt to mystically trace Papa. I thought Shamika would be disappointed, but she displayed no reaction to the news. I told myself that she probably hadn't expected Bogdan's spell to work, but I still found her lack of expression odd.
"So what do we do next?" Scorch asked.
Tavi spoke up. "I can dash over to Papa's and see if I can pick up a scent trail to follow. I'll give you a call if I find anything." Before any of us could respond, Tavi started to change. Patches of fur and scales covered his flesh, and his limbs became long and flexible as if they were made of rubber. His mouth and nose elongated into a canine snout, his eyes became yellow and serpent-like, and a reptilian hood spread out from his head. Tavi was a mixblood, a lyke who'd used genetic engineering to alter his wildform. He was a combination of mongoose and cobra, and while I had no idea which had been his original wildform, the combination of the two made him most formidable. Speed, strength, cunning, agility – he had them in abundance.
When Tavi said he intended to dash over to Papa's, he'd meant it literally. He ran out of the room so fast he was little more than a blur of motion, and the wind kicked up by his swift exit was strong enough to rival any gust that Rover could produce.
When Tavi was gone, Bogdan stroked his beard in thought. "I'll make some discreet inquiries among my contacts in the Arcane community here in the Sprawl. Perhaps some of them can provide insight into the disappearances of the magic-users."
"Sounds good," I said. "And Devona and I will go straight to the top."
Devona frowned. "Why do I not like the sound of that? Are you suggesting we talk to-"
"Varvara," I finished for her. "Yep. After all, right now she's the chief suspect in the disappearances. The only suspect, really."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Devona asked. "Varvara likes you well enough, but her attention is going to be focused on preparing a retaliation against Talaith for destroying the bridges. Even if she's behind the disappearances and Talaith was justified in her attack, Varvara can't let her aggression go unanswered. I doubt the Demon Queen will be in the mood to receive visitors."
"Maybe not," I admitted. "But when have I ever let the fact that someone didn't want to talk with me ever stop me from talking with them?"
Devona smiled. "Good point."
"If you two are planning on going to Demon's Roost, then I should accompany you," Scorch said. I started to protest, but Scorch cut me off. "The Demonkin are going to be upset over the Weyward Sisters' attack. Neither of you are Arcane, so their anger won't necessarily be directed at you, but once my people get stirred up, they can be like a nest of angry hornets. They'll sting anyone unlucky enough to get in their way. Having a demon escort might make things go more smoothly for you."
I wanted to tell her that Devona and I could handle ourselves just fine without her help, but I had to admit the precaution she suggested was a sensible one.
"All right. And that leaves just one detail to attend to." I turned to Shamika. "We could drop you off at your home."
It was a given that Shamika wouldn't be accompanying us to Varvara. I wouldn't take a kid to Demon's Roost at the best of times, and I certainly had no intention of taking her there while Varvara might be preparing for war. But I didn't like the idea of the girl going home by herself, either. Traversing the streets of the Sprawl is always an iffy proposition safety-wise, and having a whole lot of pissed-off demons running around wasn't going to make them any safer – especially for a young Arcane woman.
Shamika looked at me for a moment, and I had the feeling that she was at loss for how to answer. But then she said, "I'm too worried about Uncle to go home. I need to know what happened to him."
Devona scooted closer to Shamika and put a sympathetic hand on the girl's arm. My better half may have been raised in a Darklord's stronghold, but she's one of the kindest souls I've ever met. She can also kick major ass when she wishes, making her the woman who has it all, as far as I'm concerned.
"I'd feel the same way if I were in your position," Devona said. "Why don't you stay here? The rest of us will be gone for a while, but the Midnight Watch is one of the most secure places in the city."