Shamira found Henry waiting in the garage, his head under the hood of the Lincoln Blackwood he loved to drive. “You wanted to see me? At a highly inappropriate moment?” she added, giving him a meaningful glare. She had been in the middle of her “spider therapy” with Banshee when he had crept up behind her and lightly tapped her on the shoulder, freaking her out like nobody’s business. Needless to say, she had left that session more freaked out about arachnid’s than when she had gone in.
“Yeah” He replaced the dipstick and closed the hood. “Remember Tabitha Grunholdt?”
“One of Shane’s donors, right? The judge’s wife?”
“Yeah, her.”
“What about her?”
“We’re going to kill her.”
Shamira had been looking over the cars in the garage when her feet stopped moving. “That’s not funny.”
“Wasn’t supposed to be,” Henry said with a cocked grin. “Early next week was when I was thinking. We want to make it as painless as possible of course –”
“You’ve got to be shitting me! Why would we kill her? No, I’m not –”
“Calm down,” Henry said. “It ain’t like she’s gonna stay dead.”
Shamira paused for a moment. “He’s bringing her over? Vamping her out?”
“Yep. Don’t tell anyone yet though. Shane’s going to make the announcement this weekend.”
“You ass!” Shamira said, punching Henry hard in the arm. She almost knocked him over.
“Watch it!”
“Sorry,” she replied. She didn’t mean it. “So why her? Is that common? Bringing over a donor?”
“It’s not unheard of. Tabitha’s a good catch, and we already know she’ll fit right in.”
For some reason, Shamira felt a barb on that comment. She hadn’t exactly been making the transition easily. “So why her? I mean, you were a sheriff, Banshee’s an assassin, Reaper was special ops, Clara’s just hot as hell –”
“And Clara is a fast thinker and a shaman to boot,” Henry added. “Shane always has a reason. Tabitha is actually a doctor, and served in the Army for fifteen years. Then she did the whole Doctors Without Borders thing, which is where she met her current husband. Actually, she met Shane there too. She’d seen some stuff in her travels that exposed her to our style of life anyway. She can fire a gun, stitch you back together, and has a shrewd mind for politics. Her marriage of convenience to her husband has gone on long enough anyway, and they’ve both been looking for a way out.”
“He doesn’t know about her though, right?”
“Nope. From what I understand, he’ll be genuinely distraught. They might not be having sex, but they are friends. So quick and painless would be best. Public would be good, just to make sure there’s no suspicion cast on the husband.”
“No fire, no decapitation, and no bystanders getting hurt,” Shamira said, rubbing her chin. “That really only leaves gunfire. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation,” she muttered.
“Get used to it. This is your world now. Why not a car accident?”
“Maybe, but they’re too damn unpredictable. It might just maim her, the car might ignite, or something else. I’m assuming that there’s only so my much that a new vamp can recover from?”
“You’ve pretty much nailed it. Sniper?”
Shamira had pretty much figured out that she was being tested at this point. Henry probably already had something in mind. ‘Fine,’ she thought, ‘he wants to try me, then he can try me.’ “I would say random shooting. A mugging attempt gone wrong. A sniper would be too headline making, as would a drive-by. Drive-by would be messy anyway and have too many options for collateral damage.”
Henry raised his eyebrows. “A mugging?”
“A mugging.”
He grinned. “Excellent choice.”
“But how do we put her in a place where we can pull it off and get away? Downtown maybe? Vine City?”
“Let’s head downtown and wander around. Walk the streets and see if someone jumps us. If someone does, then we know we’re in a bad area.”
“Your logic is amazing,” Shamira said with a smile.
“I like to think so.” He looked her over, his grin growing.
“What?”
“Well, if we’re going into the bad area of town to look for trouble, don’t you think we should look the part?”
Shamira’s eyes narrowed. “What did you have in mind?”
An hour later, Henry and Shamira were walking the streets and neighborhoods near the Georgia Dome. At the dominant’s insistence, the submissive was dressed in her finest prostitute-wear, which included knee-high boots, a mini-skirt with an emphasis on “mini,” a pink tube-top with no bra underneath, and a matching fuzzy vest. The weirdest part . . . Monique had all these items in stock.
‘The girl’s got too much damn free time,’ Shamira thought. She and Henry had split up to scour the area, but were keeping in touch with inconspicuous wireless earpieces.
“Find anything yet?” Henry asked politely.
“I think I’ve passed a couple of guys who might give me a nasty rash by proximity, but I’m not seeing the best spot. It would help if I had some context for why she would be in this area in the damn first place.”
“Calm down, pet,” Henry told her. “Don’t forget that I’m in charge.”
“Yes sir,” she replied, growling into the phone. “Would it be impertinent to mention that I am dressed in a manner that might entice a cop to question me which could lead to –”
“I have no doubt of your ability to get away easily. You’re downtown in the middle of the night, and you’re a shadow jumper.”
‘He’s probably already got a place picked out,’ she thought as she turned a corner. ‘He’s just doing this to humiliate me.’ She stopped. ‘Maybe that’s the whole point of this trip.’
“Why did you stop?” came his voice.
“Are you watching me?!”
“Always.”
She smiled. So he liked to watch, huh? She started to prowl again, a little swagger in her step and wondering where Henry was. She didn’t bother to look for him. She noticed an increased amount of attention from the few motorists and pedestrians that were out and about. But she stopped again when she found a spot.
“Sir, what about here?”
There was a pause. “Why there?”
“She goes to the Fox for some event, parks down there,” she said, pointing to the lot she meant and assuming he could see her. See the ATM over there? Free-standing with a dark alley no more than fifteen feet away. She walks past the alley, gets grabbed . . . shot.” Her already cool blood chilled a bit more.
“Problems?”
“No sir.”
Henry sighed into her ear piece. “Don’t lie to me, Shamira.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I know that she’ll rise again, but –” she just couldn’t continue.
“It’s okay,” he said soothingly. “One shot through the heart and she’ll be dead. It’ll hurt, but she wants this to happen. She’ll be happier with us than she was with her old life. You of all people should be able to sympathize with that.”
Shamira bit off a retort, wanting to say that her old life had been great. But she would have been lying. She’d been dying slowly, and it took getting killed to find a life that might make her happy. “Yes sir. Anyway, that alley leads away to North Ave., where we could have a getaway car waiting.”
“Good idea, but no getaway cars. Too easy to trace. What we need is someone who can vanish without a trace.”
“Banshee? I heard she’s good, but –” Shamira’s eyes shot open. “Wait, you’re not seriously saying –”
“You,” Henry said calmly. “You shoot, step into the shadows, and you’re back at the house. No chance of getting tailed, no leaving a trail behind. I like the location though. Believable.”
“Henry . . . I mean, sir –”
“I actually prefer Master,” Henry told her.
“Master, I don’t know if I can –”
“Shane trusted this job to me, and I say that you do the job. You’re a good shot, you’ve got the ability to get away . . . you’re the perfect choice. Shane will agree with me, because he trusts you. Shane cares for Tabitha, so he needs this to go right. That means using you. And you realize that your abilities make you the perfect person to help with all of the upcoming creations.”
“How many is he planning?!”
“Three. And he’s bringing in an orphan vampire from Europe, but he won’t be here until next month. Shane needs his troops and he needs them soon, especially if we’re going to move against Shane’s enemy in the South.”
“We’re all in the South,” Shamira muttered. “What’s this guy’s name anyway?”