The Vampire Files - Song in the Dark Part 34

"Well, the fewer criminals walking around, the better is how he likes it. Of course, I'm the exception to the rule."

"I've wondered about that."

"So have I," he admitted.

"If Charles likes the idea, why's he bothered?"

"It's not over the killing, it's you. He's not been too happy about your state of mind. He's worried what it'll do to you. He doesn't say it like that. He dresses it up in a h.e.l.l of a lot more words, but that's what it is boiled down."

Escott had a valid point. "I've been shoved against the wall on this kind of business before, and I've learned I can live with it."

"Uh-huh. But not too happily."

"Shoe, I know you want to help, but what's going to work best is for me to find the b.a.s.t.a.r.d who killed Jewel and make him pay for it. No, I won't be happy afterward, but it'll be better for me than if I did nothing at all."

"I know what that's like. On the other hand..."

"What?"

"Have I told you lately how I really hate sc.r.a.ping you off sidewalks?"

"I'm on the lookout. I know who I'm after, and so far they don't know I'm after them."

"Who would that be?"

"A troublemaker named Hoyle is the odds-on favorite, two idiots named Ruzzo-"

"Oh, G.o.d, them?"

"You've met 'em?"

"Yeah. Two brains and not a mind between them. They're stupid, but cunning and faster than rats when they need to be."

"I won't turn my back on any of them. Hoyle's the favorite for this job. I gotta find him, ask a few questions, then make a decision."

"As in just how to b.u.mp him?"

"You reading minds?"

He shrugged. "I've been doing this a while."

"With any luck I'll settle it tonight, then we can try and"-I almost said "forget it" but that wasn't going to happen-"get back to what pa.s.ses for normal around here."

"Yeah, my guys are getting their noses out of joint for all the extra marching around in the weather."

"Listen, I don't want you putting yourself out-"

"Forget it, it's good for them. Walk some of the fat off their shanks. They're keeping a sharp watch on Gordy.

There's no white people come within a hundred yards of this neighborhood we don't know about. He'll stay safe."

"I appreciate it, Shoe." "It's good for business to look out for him," he said.

I didn't gainsay. If that's what Coldfield had to put about to seem to have a tough, practical front for his troops, then I was all for it.

"That movie star mutt of yours looks like he's tugging at the leash."

Kroun had begun to pace up and down a few times, looking my way impatiently.

"If he's cold, why doesn't he get in the d.a.m.n car?" Coldfield asked.

"Probably thinks I'll forget him if he's out of sight. I better go."

"All right, but watch yourself. I'm fresh out of brooms and sc.r.a.pers."

I walked toward the car, the wind picking up and pushing at my back. Kroun saw my approach, putting on an "it's about d.a.m.n time" face. He dropped into the front seat and hauled the pa.s.senger door smartly shut.

It made a h.e.l.l of a lot louder noise than it should have. Rather than a metallic bang, there was a deafening krump, then it was like the sound itself slammed me in the chest. I was hurled backward, right off my feet, not understanding why. I glimpsed smoke suddenly blacking the windows of the Caddy on the inside before I hit the pavement. Some instinct told me to keep rolling. Each time I saw the car a different view presented itself.

Smoke flooding from under it, thick and black.

Another explosion, the boom too loud to hear, only feel.

The rear end suspended five feet in the air and nothing holding it up.

The heavy body abruptly crashing down on all fours, flames engulfing the back.

The tires ablaze, adding smoke and stink to the picture.

Pieces of metal shooting by like hot hail.

A tumbling wall of fire and blackness roaring toward me like a train-

Chapter 14

Insistent, annoying things plucked at me, at my clothes. I waved them off, but they made a solid grab, pulled strong, and dragged me over a rough, hard surface. A man yelled in my ear, but it was m.u.f.fled, as though I'd vanished. He might have been cursing.

Fire rained down. It was almost leisurely. Fat drops floated confetti-like or struck the cement, bouncing to scatter yellow-and-blue flames. A second look, and they proved to be attached to dark bits of burning things. It seemed a good idea to get out of their way, so I got my feet under me and working together. Hours later we reached the cover of a building and ducked in. Someone had broken the front window, and the lights were out. When I chanced to breathe, the air reeked of gasoline, burned rubber, and hot metal.

Doubled over, coughed it clear. Two other men were with me, Coldfield and Isham, also coughing.

Eyes stinging, I looked through the window-the shattered gla.s.s had blown inside-and saw the big Cadillac's sh.e.l.l engulfed in a fast and furious inferno. Smoke roiled from its stricken, blackened carca.s.s in a wide, twisting cloud that was fortunately blowing away from us. Even at this distance the heat warmed my face, but I couldn't hear anything from what should have been a blast-furnace bellow. Touched one ear. Came away blood. A lot of it. My face, too. d.a.m.n. Without thinking, I vanished and returned. My hearing popped back to normal and other hurts that were starting to make themselves felt ceased altogether.

"Jack?"

Turned. Coldfield stared at me, concerned. So did Isham, but with a different expression. He rubbed his watering eyes, shook his head, looking puzzled.

"Jack? You hear me?" Coldfield again.

"Yeah." What the h.e.l.l had happened?

"You okay?"

"Think so."

"That makes one of you. Your friend out there's gone."

I didn't get him. "What? Something happen to Gordy?"

"The guy you came with. Kroun."

"What? No..." Looked again at the wreck. Too much smoke to see inside the car, but that was just as well. For some things you don't want details.

"There was no way to help him."

"Oh, G.o.dd.a.m.n."

"Yeah. This puts everybody up s.h.i.t creek. Gonna be h.e.l.l to pay." He wiped his streaming eyes with a handkerchief.

Someone touched my shoulder. The woman who always stood behind the counter offered me a damp towel.

"You're hurt, Mister. Your face."

I accepted the gift and used it. My ears no longer streamed blood, but the leftover gore must have been an alarming sight. "Thank you."

"Come in back, we'll get you cleaned up."

Back, meaning a bathroom or kitchen, meaning mirrors at some point. I pulled enough of my scrambled thoughts together to thank her again. "This is more than enough."

"We gotta get him out of here," Coldfield told her. "We gotta all get moving."

"The hotel," said Isham.

"Farther than that." "The club." He'd mean Coldfield's place, the s...o...b..x. But we had to check another place first.

"Call Lady Crymsyn," I said. "Charles is there by now. If there's other bombs..." It finally got through that I'd seen one going off.

"Jeez." Coldfield, moving with astonishing speed for his size, threaded past dark aisle displays toward a door, where presumably he would find a phone. I hoped Escott would answer.

"The lobby number," I called after. "Try that one. Let it ring."

The fire rain of blown-up car pieces had stopped, but not the smoke. The wreckage lay all over the street, shattered windows gaped, their stares blank and cold. Most were ground floor, though a few second-story ones were gone. I hoped to G.o.d no one had been in front of any of them.

Isham left the grocers for a look-see, keeping a healthy distance from the car and moving fast. I went as well, standing just clear of the door. No other casualties were in view, but people were cautiously emerging, Coldfield's soldiers. Isham talked to some of them, and they began to melt away from the attraction. By the time I heard the first fire-engine siren, the street was empty except for civilian types. Other cars rolled up, full of vultures who'd come to view the burning body. The smoke forced most of them upwind. A white man came over and asked if I was all right.

I swabbed the towel around, hoping to get the telltale blood off my face and neck. "Yeah, I'm fine, got cut by flying gla.s.s. Did you see what happened?"

"Was gonna ask you. Looks like the gas tank blew. Must have been a humdinger. Anyone in it?"

"I donno. Hope not."

"Anyone else see?" He pulled out a notebook and a chewed pencil, and I recognized yet another of my own kind.

What used to be, anyway.

"I don't think so."

"Hey, I know you, don't I?" He gave me a squint. "You got that fancy nightclub. The one what had the body in the bas.e.m.e.nt-"

"I gotta go." I retreated into the grocery. People on the sidewalk parted for me, but closed up for him. He shrugged and looked for other witnesses.

It hadn't really sunk in yet about Kroun. Hard to think beyond the burning car. The flames were less now, running out of fuel.

Coldfield returned. "Charles is fine. He'll keep his eyes open and not be driving. You and me, this way." He headed to the back.

He was in a hurry, but I paused long enough to leave the stained towel on the counter and fish out my wallet. I pressed five twenties into the woman's hand.

She backed a step. "No, we couldn't..."

"For the window."

"It's too much!"

"I'm apologizing, as well, ma'am."

I rushed after Coldfield, who had cut left down the alley and was waiting impatiently by a row of trash cans. As he turned I only then noticed his coat was smeared with street dirt. Apparently the blast had knocked him down, too. I'd been much closer. There was a singed patch on my jacket and holes torn in my shirt. It was black so no staining showed, but I could smell my own blood on the fabric, along with the smoke.

With me half a step behind him, he led us down a much more narrow alley that opened to the next street. Just as we emerged Isham pulled up in Coldfield's Nash, barely braking, and we dove into the back.

This car was also armored, for all the good it would do.

I looked when we had enough distance and saw the smoke rising over the buildings, thundering fast and black against what for me was pale gray sky.

"No one's gonna follow," said Coldfield, misinterpreting.

"Where we going?" "My club."

"Drop me at the Nightcrawler."

"You joking?"

"I got things to do or there really will be h.e.l.l to pay. Kroun comes to Chicago, gets killed, and, if I don't get the blame, it will drop like a ton of bricks on Gordy. I gotta steer that away."