simply—“Impossible,” she breathed. “There is nothing you could give a hunter that would make him betray us.”
Who was it ? Miguel? It wasn’t Carson – she didn’t even consider the possibility because she knew him and knew it was unthinkable. There were other hunters they had worked with over the last few years, in other cities and locations. Those hunters had information about the clan that they had been able to add to their own.
“Hunters will do much for money,” Valdeg replied.
Money . The one thing that was always in short supply. “You don’t have money,” Tally shot back.
“We have had money in your banks for centuries. Menials have their uses.” Valdeg’s tongue lolled again, long and black, and this time Tally knew he was laughing at the irony of using their enemy’s institutions and people to forward their own purposes. He cocked his head, tilting it sideways, a movement Tally didn’t think they were capable of making. It was a very human gesture. “Tell me where I can find Jimmy Ciallela.”
Jimmy . For a moment Tally wondered if she would be physically sick. Burning juice scorched the back of her throat, and her eyes started to water. She breathed heavily through her nose, maintaining control. “Get out of my kitchen,” she said, her voice low and level. “You’ve got thirty seconds, then I start carving you up like I promised when I stepped in here.”
Valdeg’s inner lids snapped open and he looked at her without the shielding lenses. “We will find him,” he said, “with your help or not. The first among us said you would not assist and that he would find his own way to the menial. He was right.” The gargoyle rose on his rear feet and waddled to the back door, which stood open, the knob busted in and hanging from a single screw. They were awkward on their feet, but that didn’t stop them from being superb fighters. Once they were in the air, they could maneuver and turn more easily and that was when they were most dangerous, but Tally didn’t discount the danger Valdeg posed, even as the runt of the clan. She kept her sword up in defense until he worked his way carefully through the door. She followed him out, and watched him take a jogging run across the snow-covered yard, then launch himself upwards, his wings unfurled and straining. They were like albatross taking off – it looked like they would never get into the air.
Tally watched his silhouette disappear against the silvery grey clouds low overhead.
Jimmy .
She turned and ran for the stairs.
* * * * *
Carson was a good driver, using the gears for maximum speed and traction on the icy December roads, but even he couldn’t make the old Chevy move any faster than the worn out engine could manage. The motor was making strange sounds that Tally had never heard before.
She sat silently, tight with tension, her hands clenched around the seatbelt, which she was holding under her belly so the surges from the car turning wouldn’t pull against the baby. Her throat and mouth were thick with fear.
“And he just talked?” Carson said. It was the third time he had asked the question. He kept circling back to it, like a dog gnawing on a bone.
“I don’t know what he wanted, beside the turkey,” she replied patiently. “He wanted to know where to find Jimmy. He said—he implied—that Jimmy had been helping them, but he had done something to piss them off and they wanted to find him.”
“Not possible,” Carson said, but she could hear the note in his voice. The doubt. Out of all the hunters they worked with regularly, Jimmy was the closest to a true friend, something that Carson had never had before. The idea that Jimmy had been helping the gargoyles and betraying them all didn’t sit well with him any more than it did with Tally. But she could see the possibility. She could see Jimmy reaching out for money. His life was more wretched than most hunters for he found it hard to come by even casual jobs.
He
Who was it ? Miguel? It wasn’t Carson – she didn’t even consider the possibility because she knew him and knew it was unthinkable. There were other hunters they had worked with over the last few years, in other cities and locations. Those hunters had information about the clan that they had been able to add to their own.
“Hunters will do much for money,” Valdeg replied.
Money . The one thing that was always in short supply. “You don’t have money,” Tally shot back.
“We have had money in your banks for centuries. Menials have their uses.” Valdeg’s tongue lolled again, long and black, and this time Tally knew he was laughing at the irony of using their enemy’s institutions and people to forward their own purposes. He cocked his head, tilting it sideways, a movement Tally didn’t think they were capable of making. It was a very human gesture. “Tell me where I can find Jimmy Ciallela.”
Jimmy . For a moment Tally wondered if she would be physically sick. Burning juice scorched the back of her throat, and her eyes started to water. She breathed heavily through her nose, maintaining control. “Get out of my kitchen,” she said, her voice low and level. “You’ve got thirty seconds, then I start carving you up like I promised when I stepped in here.”
Valdeg’s inner lids snapped open and he looked at her without the shielding lenses. “We will find him,” he said, “with your help or not. The first among us said you would not assist and that he would find his own way to the menial. He was right.” The gargoyle rose on his rear feet and waddled to the back door, which stood open, the knob busted in and hanging from a single screw. They were awkward on their feet, but that didn’t stop them from being superb fighters. Once they were in the air, they could maneuver and turn more easily and that was when they were most dangerous, but Tally didn’t discount the danger Valdeg posed, even as the runt of the clan. She kept her sword up in defense until he worked his way carefully through the door. She followed him out, and watched him take a jogging run across the snow-covered yard, then launch himself upwards, his wings unfurled and straining. They were like albatross taking off – it looked like they would never get into the air.
Tally watched his silhouette disappear against the silvery grey clouds low overhead.
Jimmy .
She turned and ran for the stairs.
* * * * *
Carson was a good driver, using the gears for maximum speed and traction on the icy December roads, but even he couldn’t make the old Chevy move any faster than the worn out engine could manage. The motor was making strange sounds that Tally had never heard before.
She sat silently, tight with tension, her hands clenched around the seatbelt, which she was holding under her belly so the surges from the car turning wouldn’t pull against the baby. Her throat and mouth were thick with fear.
“And he just talked?” Carson said. It was the third time he had asked the question. He kept circling back to it, like a dog gnawing on a bone.
“I don’t know what he wanted, beside the turkey,” she replied patiently. “He wanted to know where to find Jimmy. He said—he implied—that Jimmy had been helping them, but he had done something to piss them off and they wanted to find him.”
“Not possible,” Carson said, but she could hear the note in his voice. The doubt. Out of all the hunters they worked with regularly, Jimmy was the closest to a true friend, something that Carson had never had before. The idea that Jimmy had been helping the gargoyles and betraying them all didn’t sit well with him any more than it did with Tally. But she could see the possibility. She could see Jimmy reaching out for money. His life was more wretched than most hunters for he found it hard to come by even casual jobs.
He
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