Kelly Meding - Requiem for the Dead

"So what next?" I asked.

"I'll question Lynn when she returns," Astrid said. "Other than that, we wait for Vale to call about the ransom."

And if we really had a mole in the Watchtower, he'd know that Eulan was here with his cash pretty soon—if he didn't already.

I excused myself to the cafeteria. I desperately needed a caffeine boost, and the pups could probably use a snack. Their metabolisms were already high, and the stress of the beatings would only add to that. More people were milling around in the cafeteria than I expected, considering it was after two in the morning, but we all kept bizarre hours. I'd go crazy if I was ever shackled into a 9 to 5 kind of job.

I poured a mug of coffee for myself, added a few ice cubes, then gulped. Repeat. The hot liquid burned into my stomach, a pleasant heat that reminded me of how empty it was. I put half a dozen sandwiches on a plate, then turned to take the food back to the infirmary.

A skinny, dark-haired figure hunched alone at a table made me pause. Alejandro. As much as he wasn't a suspect, he also wasn't a member of the team. He was alone here, and he looked like he'd just seen his favorite pet creamed by a car. I carried my plate over and plopped down in a chair next to him.

He jerked, startled. "Oh, hi."

"Oh, hi," I parroted. "Making friends is easier if you talk to people."

"I'm not very good at that."

"Talking?"

"Making friends."

"Me either."

"Hard to believe."

I laughed at the sass. The kid had guts for sure. "Really, though, why the funk? I thought getting involved was what you wanted?"

"Is was. It is, I mean."

He stared at the table while I stared at him. I was too tired to guess, and I had better things to do than try to puzzle this out. Alejandro seemed like a nice kid, but he had serious trust issues and they weren't my issues to fix.

"Are you eating all those?" he asked, nodding at the sandwiches.

"Delivery for friends, and don't change the subject. You've got thirty seconds."

"It's just…I'm new."

"Duh."

"And I don't want to rock the boat, or get anyone into trouble because I don't really know what's going on."

Okay, he had my full attention now. I kept my pose casual while checking our surroundings. No one was close enough to listen in. "Alejandro, I need you trust me. I need you to trust that anyone you might have overheard, anything that seems off? You need to tell me right now."

He considered me a moment. "I do trust you."

"Then tell me what's going on? Did you hear something?"

"Yes."

"Okay, what was it?"

He took a moment to look around before lowering his voice to a bare whisper. "I heard someone on the phone. They didn't know I was there."

"Saying what?"

"Telling somebody that you were back here, along with Truman and two of the puppies?" He seemed unsure about the last bit. "Why would Truman bring puppies here?"

"Long story." I tried to keep myself from exploding with impatience, because it was quite possible Alejandro—bad-at-stalking, Boot Camp recruit, and generally jumpy teenager—had overheard our mole talking to Vale. "Who was it? Who did you hear on the phone?"

After securing Alejandro's promise to deliver the plate of sandwiches to the infirmary, I ran back to Ops. His admission was burning a hole in my brain, and I needed to discuss it with Astrid before the potential mole tried to flee the premises.

The earlier crowd had dispersed itself, but Astrid hadn't moved from her desk. She glanced up when I walked into Ops, and something in my demeanor alarmed her because she stood up. She'd taken one step in my direction when her cell phone rang.

"Vale," she said, waving me over. Marcus and Rufus appeared out of nowhere, and we four gathered around her phone as she accepted the call. Set it to speaker.

"Not even a hello?" Vale said after a pause.

"We have the money," Astrid said. "In cash like you asked."

"Excellent. You sound pensive, Astrid."

"Long day."

"I think perhaps you're waiting for me to change my demands, and you're correct. They've changed."

I stifled a groan. Of course they'd fucking changed.

"The cost of returning the potion and scroll hasn't changed," Vale went on. "The delivery system, however, requires a personal touch."

"Explain that."

"If you want the mongrel dog returned safe and sound, then Evangeline Stone will bring me the money. Alone. She's there, I take it? Not a pile of ash blowing in the breeze, as she should be?"

"I'm here," I said. No sense in denying it.

"Then your presence in exchange for the boy."

"No fucking way."

Three pairs of eyebrows went up, and I imagined Vale's did too. My heart thudded heavily, alarmed at my choice, but also confident in the decision.

"No?" Vale repeated.

"No. There's nothing to stop you from killing me and John, and then taking off with the money, the scroll, and the potion."

"I kept my word about releasing the Frosts."

"Yeah, well, you also had the Assembly screaming for your sorry striped hide. You had nothing to gain by killing them. You have nothing to lose by killing me. In fact, I think you'd take great joy in it."

"You're right on that count, Ms. Stone. You broke our bargain by not killing Elder Dane as requested."

"As demanded. We didn't have a bargain, we had blackmail. And considering you beat two kids while they were unconscious, I'm not inclined to believe a fucking thing oozing out of your mouth."

"Then we are, as they say, at an impasse."

"Not necessarily. You keep hiding behind other people, Vale. So come at me face to face. In front of witnesses. You get the money for the stuff you stole, and then we fight for John, one on one. You and me, pussycat."

Astrid and Marcus stared at me like I was insane, and I probably was. If Vale shifted, I'd never beat him in a fair fight—not even with my healing and my teleporting ability. Bengal tigers, especially Therian Bengals, were huge and had big teeth. But I'd do this for John. I'd do this for Wyatt.

"No," Vale said.

"Can't take me?"

He laughed. "I'm very certain I can, actually, and as much as I'd enjoy it, I'd rather expend the energy fighting someone I hate more than you."

"Who?"

"Marcus."

The were-cat in question blinked once.

"Why Marcus?" I asked.

"He led the charge in May. He's responsible for my brother's death."

"Prentiss was executed by the Assembly for being a dirty traitor."

"He wouldn't have been caught if not for Marcus." The logic of cowards—blaming the cop who arrested them instead of taking responsibility for committing the crime in the first place.

I couldn't ask Marcus to do this, not for the life of a Lupa, an enemy to his own people. We'd find another way to save John.

"What are your terms?" Marcus asked.

My mouth fell open. His quelling glare kept words from tumbling out.

"You are listening," Vale said. "Good. We'll keep this brief. We meet at dawn. I'll tell you the location twenty minutes beforehand. Three witnesses for each of us, in the old style. To the death, Marcus."

"Unacceptable."

"Not interested in fighting to the death?"

"I'll kill you any day of the week, Vale, I promise you that. The location is unacceptable. We speak again at six o'clock, and we agree upon a neutral location at which to meet by six-thirty. No one gains the advantage in this."

Vale grunted. "Acceptable. You bring my money, and I'll bring your valuables."

"All three?"

"All three."

"I want to speak to John," I said.

"Impossible. I'm keeping him sedated so he doesn't lose it on me."

Smart bastard.

"I want your word, Marcus," Vale said, in a forceful tone I didn't expect. "Your word that this will be our duel, and ours alone. No Assembly enforcers waiting in the wings, no Watchtower stooges ready to pounce on me."