The stench of solvents and oils was strong on the air when Ed took a breath to speak. “You say that Jane Yellowrock, the Dark Queen of all vampires, bargained with the cat? With my car?”
“Oh yeah,” Alex Younger said from his computer-covered desk. “And the bargain that Beast wanted was to hunt in your car. The car with no head, which we’re pretty sure means with the hard top off and the soft top down.” He chuckled, a teenaged laugh saying clearly that he was enjoying this conversation. “Hunt a cow. In your car.”
“One does not hunt cows,” Ed mused, trying to think through this. “One milks them or breeds them or slaughters them for meat. They are stupid and docile. It would not be a hunt.”
Eli snapped and clacked one weapon back together and dry-fired at a painting on the wall. A beautiful, extremely valuable painting of a racehorse by Edward Troye. Eli used the painting as target practice, over and over, the empty weapon clicking. Edmund closed his eyes against the sacrilege, comforting himself with the thought that at least the warrior hadn’t used actual ammo.
Ed ignored the cat. She purred and rubbed the back of her head over his thigh. He ignored her some more.
The cougar rolled over and sat up, shifting her body until they were face to face, her whiskers tickling his chin. She lifted both front paws and put her forelegs around his shoulders, still purring, but she extruded her claws and pressed them into the skin of his nape, very carefully, very deliberately. Her cat-breath still smelled of bloody meat, a scent with which all Mithrans were intimately familiar, but this did nothing to stir his nightly blood appetite. Vampires did not eat the meat of their victims.It was not done.
Speaking to the cat, Ed said stiffly, “Even if I agreed to this insane plan, it will not be a hunt. Cows will run, terrified. They will scatter and destroy the farmer’s property. They will run into the road, into the barns, across fences and ditches, bleating or mooing or whatever noise the creatures make. The undercarriage of the Maserati will be ripped out trying to go overland and my car will die within the first hundred feet. It will be an epic failure resulting in no edible cows and the destruction of mycar.”
“Not the kind of cows she wants,” Eli said, placing the weapon to the side and reassembling another so fast even vampire vision could scarcely follow.
“And?” Ed said when Eli seemed unwilling to continue. “What kind of cow, then, man?” he practically shouted.
Eli gave a not-quite-there smile again. Had Edmund blinked he would have missed it.
“Beast wants to hunt cows with trees on their heads,” Alex said, deadpan. His eyes were gazing at his fingers, dancing across a keyboard, nearly silent even to his vampire hearing. But there was something about his face, impish and slightly taunting.
“I beg your pardon?” Ed said.
“We think she wants to hunt longhorn cattle,” Eli said, the small smile back in place in an on-and-off-again delight. Ed had a feeling that in another person, the little smile would have been a belly laugh. Eli Younger was enjoying himself.
“Or bison,” Alex said.
The cat licked his cheek. It was clearly a tasting lick as opposed to a grooming lick or a loving lick, as a dog might do. If he should die, the cat would undoubtedly treat him as food. Her tongue was like sandpaper and when she licked him again, it bloody well hurt. “Stop that,” he snapped.
Alex snickered.
The cat chuffed in amusement. Her purring increased in volume, the vibration so strong it reverberated where her chest rested against his. The claws pierced a little deeper.
Jane had done this. She had bargained with property she did not own—
Edmund went preternaturally still.
Jane wasn’t stupid. Or unfair. He had a brilliant idea. He hoped. “One cow?” he asked, meeting the golden eyes, drawing on his mesmeric abilities. He had no idea if they would even work on the cat since they didn’t work on Jane, but when his Maserati was in danger, he would use all his wiles. “I have a... counterproposal,” he said, his tone thoughtful.
The cat chuffed, her ears pricking up in interest.
“In return for not using my car for this hunt, I offer this. The hunt shall be for two bovines with... with trees on their heads, or bison, or even wildebeest, whichever Alex can locate to the west of New Orleans, in Texas. This proposed hunt will take place in wild country, far from humans. And, should you agree to my terms, it will occur from the back of a Hummer—a large, tall vehicle set high off the ground, and used for...” He hesitated, choosing phrases the cat would understand, “...for hunting humans in war.”
The cat’s ears pricked higher. Her purring stopped. She stared back at him with a predator’s hungry intensity. She didn’t try to tear off his face, so he continued.
“Instead of a vehicle for war, I propose a luxury Hummer, with no top. A Hummer that can go overland at speeds that will rival the longhorn or the bison or whatever. Forty-eight hours on the ranch. Forty-eight hours to hunt, though only the two animals agreed upon. No horses, no pets, no humans, no prey except the two bovines. In a Hummer.”
The cat chuffed softly. She was watching him from two inches away, her whiskers moving on his cheeks, her eyes glowing with interest.
“All this will be in return for removing my car from being considered for any hunt ever again. And... we will also fly there and back in the Learjet,” he added, “over a weekend.”
The cat blinked, her long lashes dropping and opening, considering. Her golden eyes studied him as if he were a squirrel she might chase for fun. She chuffed again, harder, blowing her blood-stench breath in his face.
“That means she’s interested,” Eli said helpfully.
“Her interest is not enough,” Ed said. “This will be a rock-solid deal, as you Americans say. A trip to Texas in the Lear, a hunt for two bovines, preferably wild, from a luxury model, modified hunting Hummer, over the course of forty-eight hours. And my car forever removed from the bargaining table.”
The cat released the pinprick of her claws and tapped his neck three times.
