My cell rang, and Tandy said, “Ingram. I have the license plate you sent. It belongs to a David Jones Meechum, a city law enforcement officer, who has just been informed his personal vehicle’s tags have been stolen. He’s taking care of running the tags that are currently on his own vehicle just in case they were stupid and swapped them.”
“Did he recognize any of the men inside the truck?”
“Negative.”
I knew it was a stupid question, but I went for it anyway. “Any luck with facial rec?”
“Working on the driver, but unless he’s on a list, uses social media heavily, games online a lot, or recently came to the States, we aren’t likely to get a hit.”
“Yeah, I— Hey. Send them to Cai and to Alex Younger?”
“Brilliant,” Tandy said. “Making those calls momentarily and will send. FireWind is interested in the church. He was in the area. His ETA is ten.”
“Dagnabbit.” Reflexively, I sped up, then slowed. My sister chortled and gave me the side-eye in amusement. I was surely going to hell for cussin’ in front of her. “I’ll see he’s let in.” I ended the call to Tandy, pulled over, put the vehicle in park, and dialed the only number I had for the men at the gate. Jedidiah. It went to voice mail. So I called back. And then again. On the fourth try, Jed answered.
“What.”
“A very important person in law enforcement is interested in these men. He’ll be at the gate shortly. Give him trouble and he’ll remember you dumped Esther. He likes Esther.” I was so going to hell, now for lying. “Let him through and give him directions to the tree.”
Jed was no longer on the line. I could hope he made FireWind mad enough to arrest him. Maybe punch him. And hope someone caught that on their cell phone and let me see it. It would never happen, but a mad Nicholson could hope.Stupid man.
As I put the car back into drive, HQ called. “Ingram,” I answered, spinning the wheel.
“Cai didn’t answer,” Tandy said, “but Alex says the men are blood-servants to Tomás de Torquemada’s Mithrans. I called Yummy’s primo blood-servant and she is sending names, which I’ll share with Alex Younger and his brother. They’re handling official correspondence for the Dark Queen while she’s on her honeymoon. Hopefully, we’ll soon have dossiers. Your backup ETA is five minutes. FireWind suggests that until he arrives, you observe and not engage.”
“Copy that. Thanks.”
Mud disconnected the call for me and said, “Drop me off at Mattie’s and I’ll take the back way to church.”
I put the car back into drive and eased around the unpaved roads until the tree near the chapel appeared. It had changed since I was here last, which was before the first hard freeze. The tree bark and leaves were a darker red, the once-green leaves with red petioles (which should have turned brown and fallen already, had it still been an oak) lingered on the limbs, though the outer leaves had turned a vibrant scarlet, as if cold weather had been delayed here, at this one spot, but was finally catching up with the tree. But the tree wasn’t asleep. It was very awake. Vines were moving as if there was a wind, but the leaves were motionless, the air strangely still.
I rolled into Mattie’s driveway, parked my vehicle facing out, and turned it off.
I took in Mud’s chopped-off hair, her ugly square-necked church dress, school sneakers, and white socks, and decided she looked proper enough for services, once she pulled off the jeans. I scanned her hairline and fingertips and said, “No leaves. No vines. Take off the jeans. Hug Mama for me. Have fun.”
She made a face, slid out of the jeans, and slipped out the door. Once she was safe, I watched the tree and the men claiming to be my friends.
One of the visiting men was armed with a small and very illegal submachine gun of some kind. He was probablysupposed to be keeping guard, but he was having a hard time paying attention to his surroundings with the tree so close and vines waving in the calm air.
Two other men were trying to take cuttings. Like Joel said, they were having trouble, and kept stabbing themselves on the thorns. One man managed to cut off a single leaf and stuck the cut end in his mouth as if sucking sap. He made a terrible face and I wanted to laugh. Then I remembered that a vampire named Charlainn had tasted a tree and liked it. Had Torquemada’s men heard about that and wanted a taste? Why?
Not that it mattered right now.
The machine gun guard said something and went to their vehicle. He came back with an ax.
I didn’t laugh.This should be interesting.
The guard handed his gun to a bleeding man and approached the tree, standing back and a little to the side, out of the arcs of any moving vines. He assumed the correct stance, proving he knew how to torque his body with an ax stroke. He swung back and then forward, cutting into a low tree branch, as if he expected to cut off the branch and take it with him. On the surface, that plan might be smart.
He cut again, the ax landing with precision, a hair below the first cut. He knew what he was doing. Most modern men trying to chop a tree cut wildly all over, without hitting anywhere near where they wanted to. Cutting with an ax wasn’t a video game. It required muscle training and muscle memory, real skill. He swung again.
I expected the tree to do something, but it didn’t, vines waving but otherwise inactive. The vampire tree was bleeding red in the wedge the lumberjack was making, the scarlet sap running down the bark. By the sixth cut, the tree had had enough. When the man stopped cutting to adjust his grip, the tree struck out with a vine and whipped at the man’s face, drawing blood. That opportunity was what it had been waiting for. It had the blood of all three.
And so did I. I could take all three men and feed them to the land if I wanted.
Hungerbore down in me, thehungerof the tree, thehungerof the land. Itwanted. It needed a sacrifice. It had been so long since there had been war on this spot, the death of many to feed it.
The man with the ax swung in a different arc. He cut a vine free. It fell on the ground, writhing like a headless snake. One of the other men stepped to it and lifted it by the cut end. He opened a cloth backpack and dropped it inside. The man with the ax had made a large wedge in the limb, though he was still being scored by waving vines.
