Rossi had already told me where he stood on the idea of using my death against Lavius, and I guess Death had weighed in too since he’d just up and walked out on me when I’d asked him to make sure all sales were final as we punched Lavius’s last ticket.
Aaron was too hungry for conflict, and honestly, I wasn’t going to ask any of the gods to give up their vacation by picking up their powers. I’d done that once already. And while it had been worth it to save Ordinary, it felt weird to ask them to pick up their powers just to save me.
But I knew who wanted to kill Lavius more than was worried about me being temporarily dead.
I just had to convince him to do it.
The hospital hallway was quiet, lights lowered to give a false feeling of peace and comfort. I knocked softly on the door to Ben’s room, but I hadn’t needed to. The werewolves inside had amazing hearing and smell, and I’m sure they’d known I’d been headed their way since I hit this floor.
Fawn opened the door and tipped her head, sending her walnut-colored hair shifting from one shoulder to the other. “They’re sleeping.”
I nodded. “I need to say something to Jame. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
She blinked and leaned a little forward to…sniff me? Okay. Weird.
“You stink like demon.”
I laughed, one loud bark that made me slam my palm over my mouth before I woke anyone up. The joy of that true but disdainful statement slipped away into the breezy freezy no-soul hole in me, but for a moment, I’d enjoyed her snark.
“I could talk to him out here.”
The look she gave me. “He’s not going to go that far from Ben. Come in.”
And, yes, that was possibly the only thing that would keep Jame from joining in on my little murder plan.
The room was much the same as I’d last seen it a few hours ago, except Jame and Ben were curled up alone in bed, the wolves who had been draped over Jame lounging in chairs they’d scrounged up from somewhere. The vampires who had been tucked away on the bench by the window were gone, replaced by two more of the Rossi clan who were playing a game of cards for a prize pot that appeared to consist of sour gummy worms and cigarettes.
Granny Wolfe was there, her eyes granite behind those big glasses, watching my every move.
“Jame,” I said quietly. “I need to speak with you.”
Jame opened his eyes, rolling his head enough so that he could see me without jostling Ben who was cradled into Jame’s warmth as much as his wounds would allow.
“Speak,” he said in a whisper that sounded like it covered a voice gone too long screaming.
“Outside this room would be better. So Ben can sleep.”
That was it. My only shot. He’d either be curious enough to leave Ben behind and come with me briefly, or he wouldn’t.
If he wouldn’t, I’d find the next person on my list.
“You can talk here,” Granny said. “What he hears, we all hear.”
“Not this. It’s private.”
Granny pursed her lips, then sucked on her teeth, contemplating what to make of me.
Not having any emotions does wonders for one’s poker face.
Jame didn’t wait for Granny’s decision. He shifted carefully, and by tender degrees, untangled himself from the man in the bed. Ben didn’t open his eyes, didn’t move. I glanced up at the bag of blood steadily dripping into him and wondered how many drugs it had taken to knock him out.
Granny’s hand came to rest on Ben’s shoulder so that he wasn’t alone in the bed, wasn’t without contact, but she did nothing else to object.
I stepped outside the door, held it open for Jame. He followed me down to the end of the hall to the first unused room. His movements were stiff at first, but strength and fluidity replaced sore muscles with each step.
This was stupid. Stupid to ask a man bent on revenge to be a part of a very logical, one-shot plan.
What was I doing?
