She pursed her lips in uncertainty. “I haven’t even tried to swim yet. I have no experience with that form; we haven’t been by the sea in the past few weeks since I’ve been bound. But towing a hundred fifty pounds of wet dog doesn’t sound easy.”
“Well, it won’t be deadweight. He’s going to be helping. Hopefully we’ll have time to experiment. We’ll use the belts to jury-rig a harness for the weapons first, and then if we can figure out something for Oberon too, great. But if not, we’ll basically swim circles around Oberon to make sure nothing’s coming at us.”
That earned me a Billy Idol lip curl. “Something’s going to come at us, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “Odin revealed that it’s Poseidon and Neptune’s job to make sure we never make it to England. I don’t think they’ll content themselves with waves.”
“So what do we do?”
“The same thing that Poseidon and Neptune will do. If they can influence the animals of the sea, so can we. You look at them in the magical spectrum and attempt to communicate with them, the same way you made the initial connection with Oberon. Try to convince them that we taste like ass or there’s something shiny waiting for them in the Black Sea or whatever, just don’t eat us.”
“We’re not going to have access to magic while we swim.”
“Nope. Whatever I can store in my bear charm will have to last us the entire way across. We should cast magical sight while we’re still in the shallows and keep it on all the way.”
“We need to make like ten more of those bear charms.”
“Yeah, it’s tough to argue that. But it might be more important to bind your amulet to your aura first. Everyone who wants to find me can do it now by finding you. The only reason we’re staying mildly ahead of them is because we keep moving. But that’s not sustainable.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well,” a cultured voice said, “I found you the old-fashioned way. A wiretap.”
Our heads swiveled in alarm as our hands reached for weapons. Leif Helgarson, living embodiment of a frenemy, stood stiffly with his hands clasped together in front of him. He was out of reach beyond the neighboring table, but he could get into reach quickly if he wished.
“Though I admit, I was informed ahead of time which city you would be in. Hal is not so security-conscious as Gunnar was, have you noticed? He should be using a scrambler.”
What I noticed was that Leif had ceased trying to blend in—not that he had ever been especially good at it. He was wearing a black paisley waistcoat over a white shirt and a candy-apple-red cravat pinned with a pearl. Black skinny pants and shiny, pointy black shoes completed his look, which suggested to me mild mental illness.
“Since when did you start monitoring calls?”
“Working with Theophilus has given me access to technologies and methods I would not have used earlier. I have been monitoring all calls running through the cell towers near Hal’s residence and place of business, so thank you for reaching out to him.”
“It’s not a wiretap if you’re not actually tapping a wire,” I said, in a peevish attempt to reassert control. A small part of me was relieved that Leif wasn’t able to track me through all the blood we had shared—he used to drink mine in lieu of payment for his services and I think I probably ingested some of his once back in Flagstaff, so that had been a legitimate fear of mine after he’d surprised us that time in Thessalonika. Tracking Granuaile through divination and monitoring calls was annoying, but at least we could work on countermeasures against that; I couldn’t take back the blood. “Now get out. We were trying to have a romantic interlude, and your cravat is ruining everything.”
“Your conversation sounded rather prosaic and based on survival rather than procreation to me.”
“Who said anything about procreation? The point, which you apparently missed, is that you’re not welcome.”
“Where are the dark elves this time?” Granuaile asked, looking over his shoulder. “Are they in the kitchen?”
“No dark elves at all,” Leif replied, “though some other vampires may arrive shortly.”
“Please wake Oberon and get him in here,” I said to Granuaile, never taking my eyes off Leif. “Look out for threats while we talk.” Leif wouldn’t leave before he’d spoken his piece, so I ground out, “Say what you came to say.”
<All right, coming,> I heard Oberon grouse in response to Granuaile’s mental call.
Leif gestured to the empty chair next to me. “May I join you?”
“No. Over there.” I flicked my eyes at the unoccupied table across from us.
“Very well.” No sooner had he seated himself than our waiter swooped in to inquire about getting him a drink. Leif caught his eye, charming him, and said, “You will forget I am here. Ignore me.” The waiter turned and shook his head once, wondering what he’d been doing, before retreating to the kitchen to see if the answer waited for him there.
Oberon, invisible to most everyone, joined us and squeezed in behind Granuaile’s chair.
<Whoa, that’s Leif,> he said. <We don’t like this guy, right? Do I need to open a can of wolfhound?>
I decided to let Granuaile answer him and prompted my erstwhile attorney, “Why are you here?”
“I have been given a task to perform, which I have no intention of performing. It runs counter to my own interests, despite the attempts of Theophilus to ensure that I have a personal stake in its completion.”
“And that task is what, exactly? Kill us?”
“Near enough,” Leif admitted. “I am to prevent you from swimming the channel, or, at minimum, delay your crossing. I therefore urge you to depart sooner rather than later.”
“Fine by me,” I said, making as if to rise. Leif held up a pale, placating hand.
“Nonsense. Enjoy your meals first. The urgency is not so great as that, and we have other things to discuss.”
“Such as the note you left for me in Germany?”
“I am glad you received it. I have heard that you killed one of the snipers.”
“There was more than one?”
“There were five. The one you killed was at the edge of the net, so to speak. Had you continued straight ahead from the place where you found the note, you would have been caught in a crossfire.”
I didn’t bother correcting him on who had killed the sniper. “Whose idea was that, and how did they know to set up there?”
“As to the latter, you probably know better than I. It is someone in Tír na nÓg who is divining the future of your protégée.” He waved a finger at Granuaile.
“Do you know who it is?”
“No. Theophilus is quite closemouthed about it. All I know is that he gets regular updates from his source on your future or current position. As soon as the sun set, we heard you would be in Calais this evening, and I was sent immediately to cut you off. I am supposed to coordinate with the local vampires and one other to prevent your escape. Naturally, you are the wild card in all of this. Your amulet prevents them from predicting your actions and thus they never know whether they will be successful.”
The waiter arrived with our orders and placed the artfully arranged plates in front of us. We thanked him and he left without looking at Leif.
“Where is Theophilus now?”
A tiny shrug. “He is constantly on the move now, as am I, but I believe he is somewhere in Italy at the moment.”
“Good.”
Leif quirked an eyebrow. “Is it?”
“Yes,” I said. Perhaps the yewmen would find him and deliver the vengeance of Druids. I wondered if Leif had heard about what had happened in Rome, but I didn’t want to bring it up. “Was it his idea to send the snipers?”