| |
Dante called Charles to meet the ambulance at the hospital, then went to his own brownstone to change immediately. Rick’s blood soaked his pants where he had knelt beside him, his coat where he had laid it over Rick’s body, and his gloves where he had tended Rick’s wound. The stains were bad enough, but the fact that it was his partner’s blood made him want to burn everything. Every spot was like an accusation to his failure. How could he have let this happen? If he’d been with Rick, he could have protected him. He could have negotiated with the assassin. He had to have been the target, after all. Rick hadn’t been his partner long enough to tick off the mythics on his own. It should have been him. He bagged the bloody clothes to go to the dry cleaner, but he had to wash the gloves himself. Scrubbing them in the sink felt like washing his hands of Rick’s blood.
Finally satisfied that the last shadow of pink was gone from his gloves, Dante dried his hands, dressed in a navy double breasted bespoke suit with a scarlet silk shirt, and prepared to face Elayna, the elf queen. He could do nothing for Rick, and whether his partner lived or died, someone needed to be held accountable for his attack.
The elves were aligned with the bakers and restaurateurs, and their queen ran one of the most prestigious cake bakeries in town.
Dante entered the bakery and strode confidently to the counter.
“Can I help you, sir?” A young woman in a pink apron finished checking out the customer in front of him and smiled.
“I need to speak with Elayna Essenfay.” Dante kept his voice soft and tried not to be intimidating. The girl was not an obstacle or a threat.
Her smile wavered. “I’m sorry, but Ms. Elayna is very busy today.”
“Tell her Dante Brand insists.”
The girl frowned, but went to the back anyway. She returned and shook her head. “You’ll have to come back later–”
Dante calmly removed his left glove and rested his hand on a tiered display cake, leaving a pile of ash on the counter. His voice was still soft and calm when he replied, “I will not leave until I speak to her. Try again.”
The girl scuttled away again, this time returning with a thin gray haired woman with anger in her eyes.
“That cake was worth nearly a hundred dollars. What’s the matter with you?” She put her hands on her hips and snapped at him.
“One of your people attacked my partner this morning.” Dante picked up a napkin in his bare hand and watched it burn like flash paper before continuing. “If he dies, I will be burning much more than a cake.”
“Attacked your partner? No one’s that stupid.” The elf queen scoffed, but fear lurked in her eyes. The girl looked terrified.
“Someone was.” Dante remembered the blood running down the drain as he’d tried to wash his gloves and squeezed his eyes closed. “Someone will answer to me.”
“Annika, close the shop and go home.” Elayna gestured to the girl. “Dante and I need to talk.”
“Ma’am?” The girl stammered, she looked at the ashes Dante had left behind. “Are you sure I shouldn’t call the police?”
“He’s with the police, darling. He’s not going to hurt me.” The elf queen gently pushed her to the door and turned the sign to “closed.” She turned to face Dante. “You do realize I could bring the full force of the elven people on you for threatening me like this.”
“A pair of assassins attacked my partner today. They stabbed him with an elven blade and left him for dead.” Dante pulled his glove back on and looked her in the eye. “Swear to me it was not one of yours and I will pay for the cake. Lie to me, and I will come back and burn the whole shop.”
“Sneaking around assassinating the human allies of our enemies is not our style, even if I did count you as an enemy, which I don’t.” She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “And burning things like a vengeful pyromaniac isn’t usually your style either. Grief has clouded your judgment.”
“He would have bled out if I had been a block further away when he called. Someone wanted him dead, either to distract me or to warn me off.” He brushed a flake of napkin ash off the satin lapel of his suit coat. “Or to punish me for a slight suffered.”
“Well, you definitely seem distracted.” She scoffed. “And I’ll admit that I don’t appreciate your arresting my son for that incident with his unfaithful girlfriend. But I’m not taking it out on your partner. If I wanted to leave an elven knife in someone, it’d be you yourself.”
“I’d prefer it that way.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. He passed it to her, but did not let go. “My threat still stands. Spread the word that my partners are off limits. If someone has a problem with me, they can meet me face to face.”
He left her with the money and the threat and walked out of the shop. God help him, she was right. Intimidating people wasn’t his style. He usually let his partners do that. He rubbed a gloved hand over his face and through his hair and leaned against the brick facade of the row of shops. Vengeance is mine.
Stay my hand, Lord. I’m not sure I can in my own strength.
“Word on the street is you finally ticked off the wrong people.” A voice mocked from the doorway of the next shop.
“Chick’s lawyers are in rare form today. I arrested you myself a couple hours ago.” Dante stood and spun to face Wharton. “Those ‘wrong people’ wouldn’t happen to be yours?”
“Not unless your pet had his throat ripped out.” Wharton gave him a toothy grin. “When we send a message, we send it clearly.”
“Well, I missed the memo on this one, unless the goal was just to make me mad.” Dante clenched a fist. “If that’s the case, it worked.”
“You rely too much on humans, Dante. You police for them against your own kind, you favor their company over mythic company, and you make it clear you intend to keep it that way. And you wonder why someone offs your pet?” Wharton jabbed a finger into Dante’s chest. “You’re a traitor, but taking you out isn’t an option, so someone picked this way instead. Can’t say I blame them.”
“I’m not a traitor. No being is above the law.” Dante pushed his hand away and rubbed at the spot he touched with his handkerchief.
“Human law. Made and enforced without mythic input. You’re their enforcer, the symbol of human oppression.” Wharton growled. “It wasn’t my people, but I don’t fault the ones who did it. If it was me, I’d take out every partner you had until you got the point. Maybe once you see you can’t count on those weaklings to have your back either, maybe you’ll come around to where you belong.”
“And maybe you’d unleash a demon you can’t stop, Wharton.” Dante lowered his voice and stepped closer to the werewolf alpha, his hands clenched tightly to fight the temptation to turn the bully into a pile of ash. “I may be bound by human laws, but I am still a mythic being, and immortal. Do not push me to the point that I decide justice would be better served without human aid, because you may find that means I serve it without human restrictions either.”
He pulled his glove free as he turned, and set a trash can burning as he passed. Wharton’s words scared him and made him furious. Was he right? Was this punishment for being a LEO for the humans? The mythics didn’t really have a police force. Most guilds just dealt with issues in house, and for the most part PNI ignored any that didn’t affect human kind. Or was Wharton just being spiteful because he hadn’t had the guts to face Dante himself? Either way, someone tried to hurt Rick to get to him, and that would never be okay. When Dante found out who it was, he’d leave a message that no member of the mythic community would fail to understand: Dante Brand’s partner was off limits.