“I guess it is a change,” I said.
“If they cannot shapeshift safely, then we need to get them to the infirmary,” Magda said. If she felt pity for her fellow warriors’ plight, it didn’t show.
“I would request a stretcher, for I cannot walk,” Scaramouche said.
“What have you done to deserve a stretcher?” Nicky asked.
“Nothing, but I would humbly ask of my queen and her princes that they be magnanimous and show mercy.”
“I’m not big on mercy,” Nicky said.
“Nor I, especially for warriors who keep forgetting about me,” Magda said.
Scaramouche swallowed hard enough that I heard it, and he said, “My queen, her princes, and her princess, I beg for mercy and to be allowed a stretcher.”
I wasn’t sure Magda was my princess, but I let it go. We were winning; never quibble when you’re winning. We let him have a stretcher. What the hell? We’d made our point.
18
THE MEDICS INSISTED on Nicky going to the hospital in the underground along with the rest of the wounded. He insisted he was fine. “My mouth has stopped bleeding.”
“You could have a concussion,” the doctor said.
“Can we get concussions?” Sin asked.
The doctor assured us it was possible, though unlikely, which meant Nicky got to go to the hospital, too.
“I can shift to animal form and heal myself without endangering anyone else,” Nicky said.
“But if the concussion is severe enough, the shift won’t heal everything. Let’s do some tests before you change form and confuse the issue,” the doctor said.
Reluctantly Nicky agreed. The four of us were going with him, but my phone rang and it was Edward’s ringtone. He was the reason that I’d had my phone with me in the gym in the first place.
“Hey, Edward.”
“Pack your bags for Ireland.”
“You got them to agree to bring me in on the case?”
“You and some of your preternatural friends,” he said, and sounded pleased with himself.
“Take the call,” Nicky said, and started to walk away.
“Hang on a second, Edward.” I caught up with Nicky, touching his arm so he turned toward me. I’d wanted to kiss him good-bye, but his chin and lower lip were still smeared with blood; the blood combined with the pirate eye patch made him look even more like a Bond villain, but he was my villain, or maybe my henchman.
He smiled down at me and leaned down to offer his cheek for a kiss, which I gave him. “I take it your mouth is hurting too much for a kiss right now.”
“I like dishing out pain, not taking it,” he said with a grin.
“Don’t I know it,” I said.
“We can go with Nicky to the hospital so you can talk business,” Sin said. I wasn’t sure who the “we” included, and apparently neither were Nathaniel and Magda, because they looked at each other.
Nathaniel said, “I know some of the details of the case already, and it may have something to do with what’s happening with Damian.”
“He’s part of your triumvirate, I understand,” Magda said. “Stay. I’ll go with Sin and Nicky.”
“Thank you,” Nathaniel said.
“It is not often that you ask for something like this. I am glad to see the three of you working things out,” she said, and moved off to go with Nicky.
It was Nathaniel who remembered to ask, “Magda, did you go to Ireland on Harlequin business?”
“No, they were very isolationist for most of their history, and my master, Giacomo, could not pass for one of them.”
I felt stupid once she said it, because Giacomo was the exception to the rule about the Harlequin. He went by the name he’d used as an assassin, but he wasn’t a pain in the ass. He had been a Mongol, from what would now be considered Mongolia. He lived there when being in a Mongol horde meant that you rode the steppes, conquering or killing everything you met. If you didn’t know his ethnic background you’d still never mistake him for Irish; Chinese maybe, or Korean, or maybe even from some island in the Pacific, but he definitely looked Asian and not European. He was also almost as broad through the shoulders as Nicky, and it wasn’t from weight lifting. Giacomo’s basic framework was just that big.
“That makes sense,” Nathaniel said.
“Do you know if any of the Harlequin traveled to Ireland regularly, or at all?” I asked.
“Pierette and her master traveled there more than anyone else that I am aware of.” And Magda said it like that because they were spies, which meant that they didn’t all know what the rest of them were doing. Spies mean secrets, and the fewer people who know a secret, the easier it is to keep. Only the Queen of All Darkness had been given all the reports, and when she fell into her centuries of sleep, or hibernation, or Sleeping Beauty curse, or whatever it had been, then they reported to the vampire council. They had given reports to different council members depending on what they were reporting on, which made sense but didn’t help us. Pierette hadn’t liked us before today’s “lesson”; I doubted that watching her friends get beaten up had made her like us better.
“Of course it would be Pierette who knows Ireland better than anyone else; perfect,” I said.
“Do you have another vampire who knows Ireland?” Edward asked on the phone.
“Wereleopard, but who knows if she’ll talk to us after we just beat the hell out of her friends?”