Ming’s hand flew up in a cutting gesture as she interrupted, “My finances are not an appropriate topic of discussion. You will try the cucumber sandwiches.” She indicated the plate of sandwiches. “I should like your opinion.”
“Oh, I’d never compare my cukes to anyone else’s,” I said. “That would be too unkind of me, would reek of hubris and ego and disrespect to my host.”
Ming’s deep brown eyes sparkled in amusement. She knew I was insulting her not-so-subtly in return for the tea insult and she was enjoying herself. “But I insist,” she said, her tone dropping into vampire compulsion that felt like warmth and heat and drugged happiness.
Except it didn’t work on me, especially with my hands onwood. “In that case, I’ll do Ming of Glass the favor of taste-testing her veggies.” I took a sandwich, bit, and chewed. Rick’s face went bland as a vampire’s face, as he caught up with the deeper potential meanings of the preceding conversation. The rest of the room awaited my judgment in fascinated interest. I swallowed and sipped the now-tepid tea in my cup. Set down the cup. Making her wait. I was channeling the mamas’ careful social interactions with the wives of other churchmen. There was an elusive line I shouldn’t cross.
“It’s quite nice,” I said, staring at the small sandwich in my hand.
“Onlynice?” Ming asked.
“I’ve always found that lemon cucumbers need a bit more organic material in the soil to give them that zing. The soil you used is just right for Mexican sour gherkins, though.”
“Organic material?”
“Dead things,” I said. Rick made a soft grunt of air, Ming’s eyebrows went up, and the room went frozen, offended, silent. I just smiled the sweet kind of smile a churchwoman uses when she’s about to offer a kind, syrupy, polite insult. “Maggots know all about dead things. They make good eatin’.”
The silence went harder and colder and deadly. A good three seconds later, Ming burst out laughing. Well, it was a little titter of sound, but for her I reckon it was like a belly laugh for ordinary folks. “Mexican sour gherkins,” she repeated. “These are good cucumbers?”
“They’re actually not a cucumber or melon at all.” I scrunched up my face, trying to remember. “I think they are in theMelothriagenus. A little sharper lemon taste. Fewer seeds. A little more... tart maybe? But really good with mayo and sourdough bread, which, when made right, has bigger holes than the white bread your cook is using. The holes let the flavors mix better. I have some Mexican sour gherkin seeds I’d be happy to have delivered to Ming of Glass for her gardener to try. It’s a little late in the season to plant outside, but they’ll do okay in a greenhouse. With the right amount of organic material.”
Amused, Ming sipped her tea. “Would Special Agent Maggot be willing to test our organic mixture and recommend the perfect addition of... dead things... to improve ourvegetables? We expect the Dark Queen to visit us when she goes on progression.”
“Progression?” Rick asked.
“To visit her far-flung subjects.”
Rick said nothing, but Ming’s nostrils fluttered and she smiled slightly. Despite the cigar smoke, she had smelled his reaction to the discussion of Jane Yellowrock—the Dark Queen of vampires, who was not going on any kind of trip that I knew of. Ming was playing games with us, slashing at Rick’s emotions, trying to put us where she wanted us. Ming wanted a favor but didn’t want to be beholden to cops. She shifted her attention to Rick. He set his glass aside. I followed their lead and put down my tiny sandwich. Niceties were over. And I knew without looking that Rick was ticked off with me. There might be words about my taking lead on the social portion of this discussion. I wasn’t planning on backing down.
Carefully, Ming said, “We have a legal conundrum and wish advice upon how to proceed.”
Rick nodded once and glanced at me, but when he spoke it was to the Master of the City. “Ming of Glass, I hear, but need to clarify. Do you wish to make an official police report?”
“What are her options?” Heyda asked.
Rick considered, leaning forward and clasping his fingers together between his knees. “If Ming of Glass wishes to file a report, she will be speaking to the SAC of Knoxville. Every detail will be entered into a database that might be read by many people in law enforcement.”
“Ming does not wish her words to be made known to others,” Heyda said. “This will not be an official report.”
Rick nodded his understanding. While he didn’t seem to comprehend the niceties and backstabbing of Ming’s chitchat, my boss did appreciate the vampire mind-set when it came to power plays. He took off his badge and placed it on the table. I followed suit. Now I was just Maggot, and Rick was just Rick. Not cops.
“Rick LaFleur hears Ming of Glass.”
“Rick LaFleur the human? Or the wereleopard, the cat who is second in the leap of the Dark Queen? And first in Gabon, in Africa.”
I stiffened in surprise. Ming was really well informed andshe was getting a lot of mileage out of this meeting and this problem. Or she needed help of a different nature.
“I am many things,” Rick said evenly. I wondered if Rick was really this calm or if his old undercover reflexes were kicking in.
“It is to the Dark Queen’s leopard I will speak,” Ming said with a mean little smile.
Rick didn’t react visibly, but I had a feeling his scent changed enough for the fading cigar smoke to no longer hide it. He hadn’t talked to Jane Yellowrock in months. He had no power in the leap and no permission to speak for Jane, but he was over a barrel. “The beta cat of Yellowrock leap hears.”
Ming said, “We were attacked last night, our land and holdings and humans. Two humans have been turned or they would have died. Two Mithrans are injured and sleeping with my blood in their veins to heal.”
“Would Ming of Glass specify what kind of attack?”
Humans hadn’t died, so we could keep this unofficial, but Ming was pacing a narrow path.
