Crimson Death

Cardinale was very still as she looked at me. It wasn’t just vampire stillness, though they could be statue still, but I think she was trying not to make any sudden moves. If she was trying not to spook me, she was a little late.

“Thank you for not shooting her,” Damian said. I thought he was talking to just me, and then I saw the security guards in the doorway behind her. One had his gun out; the other one didn’t. The fact that I hadn’t realized they were there meant I was still shielding too tight not just against Damian, but vampires and apparently shapeshifters since both bodyguards were that, or maybe part of my metaphysical ability picked up normal humans, too, because as soon as I lowered my shields a fraction, I could feel more of the energy of the customers already out in the club beyond us.

It took me a second to adjust from almost no psychic input to having more, and in a shooting emergency that second could have cost me my life. I had to find a middle ground for shielding around Damian, damn it. But one problem at a time. “Where the fuck were you while all this was going on?” I asked.

The two men just inside the door glanced at each other, and then the one with the gun out, Ricky, said, “I didn’t have a clear shot, Anita.”

“I’m not mad that you didn’t shoot Cardinale, Ricky,” I said. I had my gun loose in my hand, but I still hadn’t holstered it because once a vampire goes that apeshit around me, especially in a small room, I like my gun out.

“Then what are you mad about?” he asked, and he fought not to sound sullen. He was tall, dark, and handsome if you liked the standard Midwestern Romeo type who usually got the prom queen’s virginity, or promised you the moon at the dance club with a few drinks, and meant none of it. I might be prejudiced; Ricky and I had had a serious misunderstanding the first time we met. He was still digging his way off my shit list, and I was still not his favorite boss. Fine with me; I wasn’t here to win popularity contests. I was here to make sure everyone stayed safe and as happy as I could manage. Safe was easier than happy most nights.

The other guard was new, too, and I couldn’t place his name. We had too many new people lately doing security; I should know the names of everyone that I might have to depend on for backing me in an emergency.

“What’s your name?” I asked the other guard, who was standing there with no visible weapon and looking worriedly from me to Ricky and the vampires. God, he looked young, big and tough looking, but young.

“Roger, Roger Parks.” Most shapeshifters didn’t give their last name in introductions, which meant he was very new, maybe even to being a wereanimal. Great.

“Well, Roger, Roger Parks, what’s the first thing you saw when you opened the door?”

He did that nervous glance around at all of us again, then said, “Light, white light.”

“Is that all?” I asked.

“There were a red glow and a green-and-blue glow, which could have been either of the vampires.”

“What alerted you that there was trouble?”

“Echo alerted us,” Roger said.

I looked at Ricky. “Do I need to ask you the next question, or can you just answer it?”

He took in a lot of air and let it out slowly, licked his lips, and said, “We were told there was an issue in the manager’s office, and that you and Damian were both in the room, and to be kept safe.”

“What about me?” Cardinale asked; her voice was very careful as she asked, as if she didn’t want to even raise her voice. She was being very careful now, which was good; she’d need to be very careful for a long time around me after this.

Ricky glanced at me, and I knew he was asking for guidance; he could be taught. I said, “You were endangering two of the principals that our security force is charged with keeping safe, Cardinale. That makes you a liability, not an asset.”

“What does that even mean?” she asked, her voice holding more of that British Isles accent than her normal middle-of-nowhere one. It was like most of our British vamps had been given voice lessons to sound like all the announcers on the major news sources so that they blended in everywhere and nowhere.

Ricky looked at me again, and this time I just nodded.

“How blunt do you want me to be, boss lady?” Ricky asked.

“Tell her what you were told about your job,” I said.

“Echo is head of security at Danse Macabre now, Anita.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“She uses pretty cold logic.”

“That’s fine. Just say it, Ricky. Maybe it’ll help keep Cardinale alive.”

He nodded, then looked back at Cardinale. “The job of security is to protect assets. Danse Macabre running smoothly and making money is an asset. Anita is one of the principal assets that we are all charged with keeping safe, and Damian is another asset both as the manager of the club and as Anita’s servant. You are an employee here at Danse Macabre, but you are not one of the major dancers, or a headliner of any kind, nor do you have a direct metaphysical tie to any of our principal assets.”

“What does all that mean?” she asked, her voice trying for neutral but holding the first hint of anger.

“It means you aren’t a principal, so we don’t have to protect you like you are one. You aren’t an important financial asset either, so we have to put even less energy into protecting you, which means none of us has to put our body between you and a bullet, or whatever.”

“So I’m not important at all,” she said.