“I can’t have much of a plan since I don’t know what they are doing. That’s the point. If I shake them now, I may be able to find out or even stop them. But if I just sit here and let them do whatever they like, they remain in control and I have no choice but to be driven where they want. I will not let them do that any longer. I’ll find out what I can, by whatever method I can.”
Ben chimed in on the same tune with Mara, squelching by sheer volume my attempts to tell them I wasn’t crazy, just willing to take a risk now, while the odds were not so stacked against me in exchange for a better position later.
Before the noise could wake Brian, Quinton pulled me around to meet his stare. “I’m going with you.”
“Oh, no, you aren’t. I already told you”—I shot a quelling glare at the Danzigers, too—“I’m not taking my backup into danger with me. That’s why you’re called ‘the backup.’ You stay out until I need you.”
Quinton grabbed onto my shoulders so I had to focus on him. “They’re the backup; I’m the partner. And I am going because I have the key.”
ELEVEN
“What? A key? To what?” I demanded. “To the radio station,” Quinton replied. “You may be sneaky and ghosty and all that, but you still have to get past the gate and into the building without setting off any alarms, magical or mundane. I can work the mundane side, which leaves you just the magical side to worry about. And I can take care of myself even with the vampires and ghosts, remember? I did it for years.”
“The asetem aren’t your regular vampire. Didn’t we just discuss that?”
“Yes, we did. That does not change the tactical problem of getting into the bastard’s lair, just the details. You are not going to play Rambo—even if you are a lot better looking and smarter. You don’t have to go alone and there’s no advantage to it, so you won’t be doing that.”
The Danzigers were both giving me pointed stares, plainly on Quinton’s side now that he’d spoken up.
“You’re making a hell of an assumption.”
“Yup. I’m assuming you haven’t totally lost your mind or your sense. And, well ...” He blushed and his gaze cut aside for a moment before returning, softer, to my own. He continued in a whisper. “There is that I-love-you thing....”
My throat tightened and I felt tears prick my eyes. I couldn’t get words out of my mouth; they just knotted up on my tongue.
“I didn’t just say that to get you home. I mean it. If you are determined to do something crazy-ass stupid because you have to, I won’t be a macho jerk and try to talk you out of it. But I’m going to do everything I can to keep it from killing you. If staying here really would make you safer, I’d stay put. But it won’t. Greasing electrons and lying to locks might. So I’m going with you.”
“Quinton—”
Mara cut across my protest. “He’s right. Aside from your being utterly barkin’—and I still say you’re madder than a March hare—you have no hope of this plan workin’ without help. Your wantin’ to protect us has gotten ahead of your sense. You won’t be any safer keepin’ us all behind the barricades and Quinton does have skills you could use.”
“So do you.”
“But you don’t need them. Anything I could be doin’ for this situation, you can do yourself. I truly am the backup.”
“I don’t think you should go at all,” Ben added. “Why should you? You could set a trap and wait for them to come to you. Bide your time, stay safe.”
“Ben, you haven’t listened to a word I’ve said. That only buys more time for them,” I retorted. “I cannot let them have any more advantages. It’s risky for me to walk into Wygan’s lair, but if I’m bold enough and fast enough, I can keep them off-balance and possibly get through to my father, get some information, or break Goodall’s loyalty to Wygan. Any of these would be worth the risk.”
“What if they’re already waitin’ for you?” Mara asked.
“I’ll burn that bridge when I come to it and call in the cavalry: you.”
“But you will be takin’ Quinton along, shan’t you?”
I looked at Quinton, who gave me half a smile that was more rueful than smug. I guess he didn’t like having contradicted me in front of other people, but I could live with it. I’ve had worse, usually from my mother.
“Yes.”
“Good. We’ll give you an hour and if y’haven’t called or come back, we’ll come after you both. Shan’t we, Ben?”
He nodded, adamant and a bit tense. “With the dog.”
“Maybe you should leave the dog to Brian-sit,” I suggested, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Better than the ferret, I suppose,” Mara added.
Ben refused to laugh, though we could all see his mouth twitch.
There was a bit more discussion, none of it really going anywhere, before I put the ferret into her cage and walked out of the house, heading uphill toward the broadcast towers on the top. Quinton strolled along with me, holding on to a paperback-sized silver box containing his latest Grey detector.
“Not seeing anything here,” he muttered.
“Not surprising. Wygan won’t have staked out the whole route—it’s pretty public—only the Danzigers’ and the station. Nothing else is really important and would spread his resources too thin.”
Quinton grunted acknowledgment. “Sounds like he’s got a limited supply of cronies.”
“Limited numbers, yes. Unfortunately, his assistants aren’t limited to the asetem and Goodall. Any vampire who’s not aligned with Edward could be working for Wygan. I don’t know how many vampires there are in Seattle, or how many might be persuaded to come from somewhere else, if that’s possible. So I admit I’m only making a best guess based on the activity I’ve seen and what you’ve reported.”
Quinton sighed. “I hate Heisenberg. We can know where the vampires are but not how many.”
“Not that it matters. We will get in one way or another. Or I will. If things go pear-shaped, you get the hell out and fetch the Danzigers.”
He nodded and we walked on in silence, each scanning for enemies or pitfalls but finding nothing. Even outside the station, in the darkness at the edge of the parking lot, there was nothing to find except the uncanny bloodred trace of vampires past.
We went around and came up on the tower from behind, pausing in the shadows of overgrown hedges that skirted the now-abandoned parking lot of the old Queen Anne High School gymnasium across the narrow road on the east side. The gym building was locked, the nearest doors secured with a loop of chain and a padlock, keeping them closed in spite of evidence of recent vandalism. The windowless concrete refugee from the 1970s was the ugliest building on the whole hill—and would have been standout grotesque almost anywhere—but it was still unusual to find any sort of petty destruction or tagging in the area that was sometimes called Nob Hill. But the snippet of narrow road we stood on was rarely traveled, even sitting as it did across from a newer school building and next to a graciously renovated old one. The odd isolation of the old gym made it a perfect target for anyone angry enough to kick in the doors. I took it as a sign that the area wasn’t too well patrolled at night or monitored by any video cameras, which was good news for us.
There was a bit of open park on the west side of the tower and some impressive houses across the main street running in front. Nothing but trees and bushes to the north. The chain-link fence around the tower and its building was pierced by gates on the front and side. The side gate, facing us, stood open.
“Seems too easy,” Quinton whispered.
“The bad stuff ’s inside.”
“Yeah....” He studied the rear door with a monocular from where we stood. “Looks like one old-style CCTV security camera on the door and an electronic combination lock. Bit behind the times, technology-wise.”