CHAPTER FORTY
It was after 10 when I woke. The sun was burning through drifting morning fog and later would drag people to the beach like a magnet.
For now, though, I could get some exercise. I wasn’t dedicated. When I could, usually two or three times a week, I’d do a walk/run for a few miles; just enough to work up a gentle sweat. The last time I exercised was my walk to the stream in Hungary, and that didn’t work up much of anything.
I pulled on a pair of shorts, t-shirt, socks and running shoes, finger-combed my hair into a loose ponytail and started out. Smack into Carlos’ chest.
Rats, I’d forgotten my attendant.
“It has to be OK if I go to the beach for some exercise,” I started. “After all, the sun’s out.”
“It’s fine, as long as either Paco or I are with you.” I loved the demon sense of humor.
“Well, which one of you wants to go?” I snapped, heading for the elevator.
Carlos and I trotted outside into wispy fog, crossed the block and walked out onto the sand. I gave myself half an hour and set out on a slow jog along the tide line, where the sand was firmer. It seemed out of place to have a big man dressed in a black suit keeping an eye on me through binoculars, but, oh well.
Being out doors felt good. One of the things I missed hanging around with the vampires was fresh air and sunshine. I could indulge, just not with Jean-Louis. This morning it was a high tide, so my path was parallel, close to the street and south of the pier. In fact, there was enough mist that its shape was shadowy; I could only glimpse it occasionally though I could hear the surf washing against the pilings.
I’d gone about half a mile and was turning around when a dog chased a ball in front of me. I slowed and glanced through a patch of fog to spot his owner. Something hit me from behind and I smacked face-first into the packed sand, knocking the wind out of me. I pulled my arm in to push myself up but hands grabbed both arms, wrenched them behind my back and whipped a plastic cuff around them.
“What the hell...” I started as a hand jerked my pony tail and pulled my head back. I was trying to spit out a mouthful of sand when something dropped over me and the sunlight disappeared. The cloth smelled dirty and musty as though it’d been stored at the bottom of a gym locker; it was beginning to make me nauseous. I was kicking out, trying to find a body part I could hurt, when I was suddenly hoisted up and thrown over a shoulder. My ribs were going to crack from the force of landing on bone and my lungs were fighting to get air.
“Just cool it,” a spidery voice said. “I’m not going to hurt you, just deliver you.”
My kidnapper hadn’t taken more than two steps before I landed back on the sand again, thrown down with Spidery Voice on top of me. A second later, his weight was off and there were distinct sounds of hurt coming from him.
The cloth over my head was jerked off. A distraught Carlos leaned over me. “Are you alright? I’m so sorry. Jean-Louis and the Baron will punish me for this.”
The moist, salty air smelled like a rose garden after the gym socks or whatever had covered me. I sucked it in and sucked it in and finally got enough in so that my heart stopped hammering. “What happened?” I gasped and tried to stand up, damned difficult with my hands cuffed behind me.
“Let me get that plastic off. Should we take you to a hospital?”
“No, no, I think I’m OK. Let me just breathe for a minute, I had the wind knocked out of me. Who did this? Was it a Huszar? But it couldn’t have been! It’s bright daylight.”
Back on my feet, I saw that Paco had a man in a hold and was talking quietly and earnestly at him. He was a short, slight Hispanic man in his early 20s with slicked-
back hair and a small chin patch.
“Who is he?”
“Some gang member from East L.A.” Carlos’ voice was disgusted.
“Why was he after me? Was he just going to grab somebody off the beach for ransom?” I was gasping out the words and beginning to shake. Being knocked flat and mauled around a block from my house and in the day frightened me way more that I wanted to admit. Being attacked by Huszars scared me but I could stay out of places where they might be. This attack might mean I wasn’t free to go anywhere, even at high noon.
“Let’s get off the beach so we don’t attract attention,” Carlos said and turned to Paco, motioning him to bring the man. Fog still swirled enough that our strange procession—two big men in black, a rumpled, sandy woman and a skinny gang member—wasn’t clear to passers-by. We managed to reach our elevator without fuss. Carlos and I went into my condo while Paco hauled the gangster off to the demon’s one.
Before I could stop him, Carlos was on the phone with Jean-Louis. “I’m sorry to wake you, but we had an incident. Maxie was walking on the beach and was attacked.”
Jean-Louis’s voice came through but I had no idea what he was saying. Carlos said, “She’s not hurt. She doesn’t want to be checked.” Noise from the phone then the demon said, “It was a gang member from East L.A. He has a Surenos 13 on his neck and a tear at the corner of his eye.”
More unintelligible words from Jean-Louis.
“I’m concerned, too. We need to have him tell us,” and Carlos handed me the phone.
“Are you really alright?” A trace of impatience came through the concern.
“I’m still shaky but I’m fine, not hurt anyway. I had the wind knocked out when he tackled me. The sand is a lot harder when you hit it face first then it is when you’re walking on it.”
“How’d he get to you? Wasn’t Carlos there?”
“Carlos was there, watching me. I figured I was safe, it’s broad daylight. Sunny, with patches of fog. He’d thrown a ball for a dog, knowing I’d slow down with the fog in front of me. If I hadn’t slowed, if he’d just made a grab, Carlos would have had him first.”
A sigh was in my ear. “I don’t like this,” Jean-Louis’ tone was adamant.
“I don’t like it either. If I can’t even go for a walk, I’m just not happy about this.”
“This is way beyond your walk. If Carlos is right, and the guy is a gang member, a Surenos, with a tear, no less, we’ve got troubles. Did he say anything to you?”
“He said be quiet. He said he wasn’t going to hurt me, only deliver me. That’s why I think he was just going to grab anyone, shake them down or try to get some ransom.”
“That’s an interesting theory. You know what the tear means...it means he’s been in prison for killing someone.”
“So? Why wouldn’t he just grab me for money?”
“It’s money, but it’s not ransom. It’s a contract. Guys like that can be hired. It doesn’t faze them to kill. That’s why this is a bad sign.”
“I’m still not following you.” The adrenaline from the scene on the beach was draining away; now I was definitely feeling nauseous. I needed a long, hot shower and a cup of coffee before I was ready to go anywhere, let alone outside again.
Carlos had gone next door. Now he was back, waiting patiently for me to finish with Jean-Louis so he could report.
“What it may mean is the Huszars have gone to the open market for help. They have enough money to hire themselves some gangsters for assorted odd jobs. A grab and delivery is probably cheaper than a murder, but they could find anything they need.”
“If you’re saying that the Huszars have teamed up with an L. A. gang...,” I couldn’t keep going. This was getting horrifying. It was one thing to have bloodsuckers and shape shifters after me. Those guys hunted at night and with all the surveillance and demons, I felt secure. But if they’d paid some gangsters to hunt me during the day, that put a different spin on it. I handed the phone to Carlos, went into the bathroom, locked the door and slid to the tile floor.
If I wasn’t safe even in L.A., even in my own home, even in the daytime, I’d have to weigh what I wanted in life. Could I give up SNAP, Jean-Louis, all of the perks and extras that this brought? On the other hand, could I give up my heritage, the freedom to be anonymous, the ability to make my own decisions and do what I wanted?
Carlos knocked on the door. “I’ll be next door for another 15 minutes.”
“That’s fine. I’m going to take a shower and get ready to go in.”
“Then please stay in the bathroom with the door locked until I knock.”
Even though I’d spent a lot of time and energy telling—or face it, arguing with—Jean-Louis about not wanting to be watched, I had no problem obeying the demon. Regardless of the road I chose to take, right now somebody was after me. And they’d hooked up with some of the nastiest folks in Southern California to help them.