Sveta carried the Case Twelve to the door, her tendrils forming a bed for him to lie across, unmoving. She opened it without adjusting how she held him.

I remained where I was, as something of a bodyguard, while the rest of the group filed out. Snuff let go of Midas and left the man slumped against the wall on the stairs.

There would be something of a contest here, to decide who had the most say over this band of villains. But if there’d been any hint of law and order here, it was gone now.

Bluestocking was outside, smoking with her overlong cigarette holder. Close enough to hear, not so close she was a participant. Her stare was long and hard as she watched us walk to our vehicle. Then she stepped inside, to take her own actions as a major figure in this miserable little community.

“What’s next?” Sveta asked. “After we get him medical care?”

I put my hand to his throat. Tattletale moved my hand away.

“Pulse?” I asked.

“He’ll live. Don’t worry about it,” Tattletale said, her voice laced with condescension.

So fucking frustrating. I’d welcome a good excuse to fling her into a hillside.

“What’s next?” Tattletale went on. “Engel and Egg, if we can. I suspect they’ve been dealt with.”

Snuff deposited the Old Man across the back seat, knees folded. I sat by the man’s head, and Sveta perched over him and the area just behind the driver’s seat. The angry, staring-into-the-distance look on Sveta’s face wasn’t going away.

“Then, whether you invite me or not, it’s understandable if you don’t, you’re going to want to go talk to Cradle, Love Lost, or the idiot, to get information on the mercenaries that were hired.”

“Talk to Dragon at the same time,” I said. “Her tune might have changed.”

“It hasn’t, I’m betting,” Tattletale told me.

“She was entertaining the idea—”

“A little bit. But mostly she worries you’ve gone off the deep end, inventing a conspiracy.”

That stung.

“But,” Tattletale said, her voice gentler. “They’re getting closer to believing us. One more lead or bad coincidence and they might change their minds.”

“Let’s hope,” I said.

Tattletale seated herself and slammed the car door. Snuff started up the engine. “Let’s not hope. Let’s keep them in the dark and maybe even do stuff to help them believe you’re bonkers. Because the second they come around, Antares, whether it’s because we dish out that final clue or they find it while investigating on their own, that’s going to be when Teacher drops the hammer and this gets ugly. Soon. Within the next forty-five minutes soon.”

Black 13.10

“You’ve been doing this for years,” Tattletale said. “Uh huh. Yeah, no, I’m not going to say I don’t have some sympathy for you.”

She moved her head to one side.

“Be better, then. Be smarter. Be more mature. If he’s being a dildo then you do have Mrs. Bishop as your nuclear option.”