On-screen was a brilliantly colored bird standing next to a tall woman. Jane Yellowrock was somewhere around six feet in height, which made the bird about five feet tall. It had iridescent feathers in blues, reds, and a brilliant fuchsia, as if an indigo bunting and several species of hummingbirds crashed into one another, leaving only the fanciest plumage, but on a Big Bird scale. “It’s called an Anzu and it’s a shape-changer of some sort. Our people have theorized it too came through a rift.”
“Why are you telling us this?” FireWind said. “The military is notoriously close-lipped about what they want.”
“We think Torquemada wants the arcenciels, maybe an Anzu, and a deck of cards called the Blood Tarot. Which is why he took Soul.”
She didn’t mention devil dogs or the church bloodlines. I had wondered what the Welshgwyllgihad to do with Torquemada.What if they were simply a side job, like something they came upon that was interesting but was unrelated to the other things the vampires wanted? Or maybe their blood was stronger than a regular human’s? I didn’t know. Not yet.
FireWind said, “I reported personally to DHS and DOD that Soul was missing, supposedly taken by Tomás de Torquemada’s people. We have our best people on it, but as far as we know, when Soul wants to disappear, she simply can’t be found. And we have no way to contact the arcenciels you’re talking about. For that you should approach the Dark Queen. I believe she’s taken up residence in her winter court in Asheville, or will shortly.” He didn’t mention her honeymoon.
“Will you provide an introduction for me to her court?”
“No,” FireWind said. “And if I did, my sister would as likely shoot me as listen to me.”
“Things still tense between you?”
“What do you want?” FireWind said, spacing the words out carefully.
“We want the Blood Tarot. We want to know if it survived the fire at Ming of Glass’ clan home. Knoxville CSI says they didn’t find it at the crime scene where you found Cai, Ming’s primo.”
“We didn’t find it in either place either.”
No. I confiscated it. And it is in lockup about twenty feet from where we all are sitting.I didn’t say that. What I blurted was, “Factions.” I stopped. “Sorry.”
“No, Ingram,” FireWind said, now openly amused. “You have excellent observational skills. Pray continue.”
I frowned at his old-fashioned use ofpray continue. It was a lot like church-speak. “Okay. You two want the same thing, except she also wants Rick, and Rick’s no good to us until she gets him alone for this mating thing and does what my sister’s school friends call the ‘big nasty.’ ”
Rettell’s head went back at my term.
FireWind blinked and a surprised expression flitted across his face. He wasn’t used to hearing me talk about sex.
Sex was a frank subject matter among women in the church. People had to be candid when multiple wives shared the same husband, and though I had been gone from the church for most of my life, I remembered enough. I could talk about sex withoutgetting embarrassed if I brought it up. Not so much if my boss-boss did.
I shrugged at him and went on. “She has excellent control over her mating instincts, but it isn’t likely the military sent her knowing she and Rick would go into heat.”
Rettell’s mouth thinned.
“Sorry about the plain talk,” I said to her, lying. Returning my gaze to my boss-boss, I went on. “We have more tech and experience with paranormals than she does, except weres. She’s a were-creature, and even in heat, she’s got more control than most, because no grindylow has appeared, even though there are humans present.”
Rettell frowned at my conclusion, her eyes penetrating. “Why do you think I have more control?”
“Because you smell like heat. That’s what Occam said.”
Rettell went red-faced, her frown deepening. She shifted in her seat and glanced away from me to the windows and back.
The military officer / doctor was waiting on something outside the windows. I glanced at FireWind and his eyes had followed hers, so he knew it too.
I glanced at Tandy. “She’s speaking the truth, but only parts of the truth, and part of the truth she’s speaking she doesn’t like much, including the part about taking my sister. I think with the bug turned off, and Clementine offline for debugging…” I let the words trail off, pausing.
Rettell’s eyes tightened.
“I think she deliberately turned on the mic while standing in a place where Jones would ‘discover’ it and turn it off in case this subject came up. Your’un bosses don’t know you’uns in heat, do they.”
Rettell didn’t reply, but she didn’t have to. She was red as a beet.
I picked up where I’d left off. “Based on all a that, it’s reasonable to infer that she feels she should just come clean and tell you what she really wants, but her bosses told her not to. Which means if she does talk, then so should you, boss. Off the record.”
Rettell flicked her eyes to the windows and back to me, watching me the way a cat does a mouse.
