The Glassbreaker Goes Home (The King Henry Tapes), page 10
Problem was . . . thugs being thugs, expendables being expendable, not like Vega would miss them much anyway.
Other SUV he brought along . . . maybe he'd miss that a bit more.
Sharp sat casually reclined in the passenger seat, eyes flickering about at anything and everything that posed a threat. Only . . . not King Henry so much. Ain’t a threat, that it? Suppose he wasn’t. Family. Fucking family. Fucking JoJo and Vega and . . . Nick . . .
Eight Pounds of Puke.
How much DNA we share again?
Was a driver in the second SUV too. Probably as important as Sharp. Driver like that went everywhere with Vega, right? Got to be trusted. King Henry had even seen the guy a few times before . . . never thought to give him a nickname though. Could call the man Baby Driver, but Hollywood already took that one.
Third car of import that seemed damned suspicious was further down the street. Tinted windows, but you could see a human form leaning forward the wrong way over the backseat as they watched Shithole Price. Wasn’t an Asylum car, being it didn’t have some hybrid sticker slapped on its ass. Vamps were already across the street, Vega had no reason to spy on himself, and the Three Queens weren’t that suicidal.
All those truths narrowed down the list.
“Detective Ribera after her favorite fucking obsession?” King Henry guessed.
Slighter possibility was another Were Nation keeping track of Vega, but King Henry liked the local law enforcement angle. Especially since as far as Ribera knew, King Henry had fled Fresno for two weeks and now here he was back in the area meeting up with Vega. Shit, they might even have snapped some photos when Estefan and Miles ‘arrested’ me and those two bozos were in their nice FBI look-a-like suits too!
Yeah, Fresno PD and City Hall would both be all riled up. Riled up enough for Ribera to come and get a glance herself, even if Visalia was out of her jurisdiction. Pain in the ass, that’s what she is.
Complicated matters with the Vamp a whole bunch too.
Meant King Henry couldn’t walk across the street, break down the door, and pound some Vamp ass with his bare fists. Part of him surely wanted to. Part of him always wanted to. But not with Ribera watching.
The Lady would complain something fierce if King Henry got arrested. He could hear the excuses building already: ‘Given new developments, perhaps it would be best if we wait on your orientation until your legal matters are cleared up?’
Wasn’t about to give the old bag the ammunition she needed to stall harder than she already was.
Plus, a few ladies present at this shindig might not take too kindly to me getting arrested.
“Guess Dad would finally get to bail me out. Guy’s probably shocked he hasn’t had to already.”
Door opened behind him just then. King Henry expected Valentine, maybe Old Man Price, but holy fuckballs if it wasn’t Horatio Vega. Suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up, and that politician’s smile working overtime. As off the clock as Vega ever got probably. Vega without a jacket was odd enough, imagining him with less . . .
Bet he sleeps in a suit too.
Horatio Vega: every step a strut, every word a seduction. More trouble to complicate what should be the simplest, most primal action in the world, namely a man defending his father’s homestead, but nope, about to get devious up in here.
And sure enough . . .
Got worse.
And weirder.
Vega sat down next to King Henry on the porch.
Way King Henry looked at the man, he might as well have transformed into a coyote on the spot. Or a dozen coyotes. Or a purple fucking elephant jacking off with its own trunk for all it mattered. Horatio Vega was not a sitting on the porch kind of guy, and furthermore: not any kind of guy King Henry would want sitting next to him, porch or otherwise.
Yet here they were.
Sitting.
One happy family.
Violent silence and hostile posture didn’t come close to doing the trick at dislodging Vega, so King Henry finally verbalized his complaint, “Girls get tired of your shit then? Had to find other entertainment?”
“Your father has the dishes under control and both of your sisters are preoccupied with showing your girlfriend old high school yearbooks,” Vega casually explained his presence. “I was extraneous and unneeded for either task; as such . . . what better moment could possibly present itself for me to check in on my dear brother-in-law and gauge his often troubled manner?”
“That so?” King Henry verbalized some more discontent. “Like you haven’t been needling me all night to make me extra troubled?”
Vega faked some affront to this preposterous idea, finger wagging. “No more than you needle me. I did not walk off for a mysterious conversation with your Valentine as you did with my Josephine.”
So he had more than one reason to be here then, good to know. “That was her idea. No matter how often you add ‘my’ before her middle name, she’s still got enough willpower to push the rest of us around. As example: I’m sure she’s the one pulled out the yearbooks, not Suze, since JoJo used to love flipping through those things with Mom.” Used to love them so much I was surprised she didn’t take them with her when she bailed.
“It does cause her a great deal of distress, the whole unpleasant situation with your mother,” Vega circled, always waiting for weakness to present itself. “Losing a loved one at such a young age . . . it can be quite difficult.”
“From what I’ve heard, there was a lot more death in your family than mine. Asked one of your nieces about it once upon a time, but never got a clear answer. You lost three brothers, right?”
No direct answer now either, only a slippery smile. “Two. They sadly did not survive the battle for the Coyote Nation’s throne.”
And that was it, nothing more. Cuz who expected Horatio Vega to be vociferous, right?
“Sucks to be them,” King Henry tried some flippancy.
That smile twisted about, refusing to be held down. “Unlike my Josephine, I am old enough to know that if one dwells in the past they will find themselves drowning as to quicksand. Let my brothers and their tragedies rest, I say. I remain, so the crown is mine and the responsibility of the next Vega generation along with it. As patriarch, I raised nieces and nephews by the gaggle and yet all these years later it is only now that I have a child of my own to mold to perfection. How lucky I am, my friend!
“Yes, age has settled upon my shoulders and yet the twists and turns of life are as exciting as they were when I was but a poor boy with an unknown name! Take you . . . King Henry Price is always good for another twist. One day he is rebellion itself; stealing from the Guild, unsanctioned in his war against the Curator, and then . . . in a flash he accepts all of civilization’s burdens! The Guild an ally, a seat on your Learning Council, the title of Maximus hanging from his neck . . . and what next? One wonders . . . will he keep kneeling? Just how far will he go?”
“Conquered,” King Henry corrected with some bite, annoyed at both Vega for turning the conversation around and at himself for immediately getting stuck on the defensive. “I bargained from a position of strength. My terms. They were the ones who begged for my help. For a man disregarding history you sure are quick to already be rewriting it.”
“You hope,” Vega deduced, “but cannot yet know. Conquered? No, I do not think so. Better to say married. It will be rough for you, my friend. Marriage is even less a game for the young than child rearing. It takes experience, experience you do not have. It is part compromise, part battle for domination. One that never ends; never finds equilibrium. Newly married and you are dominant, this I can admit. But in a year? In five? Maudette Lynch has handled dozens like you. And the Divine Court? How can we mortals even guess at the numbers they have buried? Of my kind? Of yours? Of their own even?”
Not the vampire King Henry wanted to be talking about, but he’d take the opening. “Have all their names now, suppose I’ll work on the rest another day.”
On cue, greed flashed in Vega’s blue eyes. “And will you ever share these names with me? Or any of the rest you learned?”
“You helped with the Susan and Paine half of the problem,” King Henry played it extra cagey, “Not with the Guild Vault. That was all my team.”
“One could possibly repay the other,” Vega casually proposed.
“We finally got to a point where I know more truth than you, huh?”
“The mancer version of the truth, built upon the vampire version of the truth,” Vega coolly corrected.
“Maybe what I know is lies, or built on lies, but what I do know, is what it cost me. Knowing how high that cost was I’m not about to hand it away for free just yet. As you’d say, everything has value, right?”
Vega’s smile across the porch steps seemed real for just a split second. “Especially lies, my friend. For it is between lies and truth where we find belief and belief is what can be manipulated most of all.”
“Whatever that fucking means.”
“It means you are learning. That is good. If you have learned to play my game, perhaps you will survive theirs.”
King Henry nodded at the sentiment. Wasn’t often you got encouragement from Horatio Vega. Pretty much . . . never. You never got encouragement from Horatio Vega. Felt . . . about as weird as the rest of the night had. Good moment to segue towards what King Henry wanted? Well, he wasn’t about to find a better opening, was he? “There really a Vamp living across the street or were you just fucking with me?”
Eyebrows rose and an open palm moved to sit between them.
Pay up, motherfucker.
“Specifically?”
Any kind regard left Vega in an instant. So had the flowery speeches apparently. “Why is my wife upset?”
King Henry went with half truth, “Susan had an episode from her Madness while they were feeding the baby. So I explained it to JoJo. She . . . vented.”
“I felt coyote-anima.”
Interesting. “Didn’t know a Shifter had those sort of senses.”
“Not any Shifter does, but the man who stands above the Totem itself? Child’s play. Why did I feel coyote-anima?”
“She vented strenuously . . . with some serious punches. Maybe more than a few . . .”
Again the smile seemed real. “She does not like being surprised.”
“No, she don’t. Never has . . .”
“Is Susanna well?” Vega actually asked.
“She’s fine. Just channeled her delusional version of my Mom for a bit . . . she’s fine.”
A silence formed. If it was Ceinwyn with him and not Vega, it might have even been enjoyable. But it is Vega, so it’s about as enjoyable as a prostate examination. But you gotta do what you gotta do . . .
King Henry kept his mouth shut and his expression neutral, expecting Vega to spill the beans—being as he mostly gave the man what he asked for. Only . . . again the palm showed up.
“Seriously, you fucking vulture?!?!”
“You pay me in pennies!”
“Don’t know anything else about JoJo,” King Henry lied way better than he used to, “but since you dominate her, I’m sure you won’t have no problem getting the whole conversation out of her if that’s your requirement to make sure she ain’t having unapproved thoughts.”
Vega was definitely enjoying himself. “Tell me about Vancouver instead. There are so many rumors . . . help me sift through them.”
The reason why he dropped the Vamp nugget in the first place finally revealed? Still, King Henry played coy. “Wasn’t there. ESLED took it.”
“I have heard that much at least,” Vega dryly snapped. “Perhaps our relationship will always be strained, always be careful, but I am not your enemy. Stop dealing as sparsely with me as you would have with Obadiah Paine.”
Odd to bring up Paine in such a context. King Henry had dealt with the evil fucker, but he hadn’t spread that fact. Granted I did have a conversation with Vega about the Curator while shitfaced on Monk Mojo Juice, but can’t recall I mentioned any bargaining. King Henry did talk to Paine on the phone just before the Sapa fight, in the Ouroboros. They played their question and answer game. Did Vega somehow slip a bug through T-Bone’s net? What was it we talked about? Sapa . . . making Sapa . . . World-Breakers, always . . . anything else? Whole experience felt like a lifetime ago.
“Still scared he ain’t dead somehow?” King Henry got in his most satisfying dig yet.
Vega snorted his old fears away, even if he couldn’t completely hide them from his eyes. “No. But my point that night still very much stands, does it not? You must admit his followers will prove problematic without handy proof of his demise. How long until we see scrawled graffiti messages proclaiming that ‘Obadiah Paine Lives!’?”
“Maybe we will,” King Henry fancied the idea. “Part of me wishes he could actually come back from being disintegrated, you believe that? Paine . . . that was some glorious shit. All that hate for the man and most of it just . . . popped. Like a fucking cyst finally expelled. Was a healing experience. Love is nice, I don’t deserve it, but that kind of hate? Keeps you chugging for the finish line, Horatio”
“Is that so?” Was one of the few times Vega’s face went completely expressionless.
“Paine was special that way. Hatred that begat hatred, made so damn many people hate him. Only time will tell who rises to the throne.”
“Three someones, I should think,” Vega tried to focus on the information he wanted.
“Yeah, you felt it. What he did to you. That why you actually wanted the body, Horatio? So you could stab it? Finally feel revenge on the man who wronged you? Killed you? Maybe stabbing ain’t enough? Maybe you wanted to bite him? Consume him? Eat your enemy, there’s some old school Shifter shit. Javier Castillo would approve, but don’t sound much like the action of an ‘information broker,’ does it?”
“Vancouver,” was the only hissed answer Vega could give and it was mighty hot.
King Henry chuckled the tension away. Gave an I-don’t-give-a-crap shrug too, for old time’s sake. “Bunch of crazies got captured. Few slightly-less crazies got killed. Isabel was present, but Eva Reti kicked her ass and took her prisoner. Didn’t know she had it in her. T-Bone was also there . . . he kicked no ass. About all he managed was to not shit himself . . . so we’ll call that one a draw.”
Vega considered this deeply.
“Vampire?” King Henry prodded after a few moments.
Still no answer, only more silence.
“I’d ask in Mexican, but I don’t know what you call vampires. Pasty sparkly gringo fuckers?”
“There are rumors of a treasure trove being found, in addition to other obvious prizes . . .”
“That so?”
Know the mancer pastime is spreading gossip but fuck me people, really? You kept the knowledge about Realms safe for a hundred years, but couldn’t keep your mouths shut about Paine’s vault for two fucking weeks?
“No ESLED agent was allowed inside.”
“Pretty big info for confirmation on one little Vamp.”
“Consider it partial payment on Eureka as well if it pleases you,” Vega got hot again.
King Henry thought about it. If the shit was spreading that fast . . . well, why shouldn’t King Henry get some value out of it? There was even an argument to be made that it shouldn’t be a secret in the first place. “Suppose you should be warned. Maybe you even get word back to the Tsar for me, okay? You’re welcome to charge him your own price, but . . . man needs to know. All you Were Nations need to know.”
Vega’s eyebrows went up for the second time. “That serious?”
“Paine was experimenting on World-Breakers. Guild still has the designs, sure I’ll have to smash a few faces to get docs on them, much less samples, but . . . well, if he’d succeeded then he wouldn’t have wanted mine, so we lucked out on that one.”
“I would say so,” Vega whispered in horror.
“Yeah, thing is . . . he failed, but Paine still got closer than anyone else. Made hundreds of the things, I guess. All kinds. We ain’t quite sure what exactly his latest and greatest are capable of, but given some of them are cracked into pieces, they definitely do something even if they do a shit job of it.”
Vega blinked, actually surprised for once. “This is . . . astounding news. But why should Igor be made aware of it? He is the last person you would want with this knowledge and—”
“The Three Queens stole three of the prototypes,” King Henry right up slapped Vega in the face. It was petty, but it felt pretty good. “The Tsar—and any other underworld dealer really—should know to be careful about dealing with the Queens from now on, if they weren’t aware already. They should also know that the Learning Council wants their rightful property back. Now.”
Vega shook his head. “Good luck to them.”
“They ain’t joking around, Horatio. Last thing we need after Eureka is Catherine Hayes tornadoing Omaha to rubble or some firestorm in the middle of Manhattan while Teresa Garcia laughs her ass off. That’s all-secrets-out-in-the-open genocide kind of shit.”
“I realize the realities of the situation. I merely consider how valuable even a semi-functional World-Breaker would be. You need not worry about me, of course, but Igor is a very greedy man. The Learning Council has never concerned him. Your only hope with him and some of the others is that the Divine Court makes its wishes equally known. Perhaps then . . . or perhaps not. You have made a very interesting future . . . different from our past for sure. Every tongue wags with your own predicament. A Maximus wielding a World-Breaker, it’s the very stuff of legend. The idea that there are others? You ask much from us who scavenge day to day to stay well fed.”
“Maybe you should point out to all them scavengers that even this Maximus had to lie and steal and finally deal to keep his shit,” King Henry pointed out. “Even then, only room for one bad example like me in this world. More than that and the world goes crack, so rest assured both the Learning Council and the Divine Court want the Queens and their Paine-Breakers taken care of fucking yesterday.”
Vega only chuckled at the authority play. “Are you speaking with the Lady’s voice now as well? What a quick transition into the Institution’s embrace it has been for you!”
