Page 19 of Smokescreen (Knight & Daywalker #1)

I drove faster than usual on my way to my mother’s house, mostly because if I had to be awake and doing businessy things by ten in the morning, I needed to be asleep, like...before whatever time it was right then.

Damned nocturnal vampires.

Twist was still in a food coma in my pocket, so she didn’t care where we were, and that was a very good thing. She was still recovering from being hurt, after all.

I rode my bike closer to the door than usual, parking right in front of the house, but my raven friend was there, like she was waiting for me.

“Hey jerkface,” she said.

Even as annoyed as I was at that moment, it made me smile. “How about...gobshite?”

I could almost see her raise an eyebrow, even though ravens definitely didn’t have eyebrows. “Turning Irish, are we?”

I turned and looked back toward town, considering. “Mother forced him on me, but...I kinda like him. Even if he did eat most of the rolls I was going to give you last night.”

“Unusual, someone like that keeping company with your mother.”

“I, um, asked him if he was my brother. She’s been nicer to him than I’ve ever seen her be to anyone but me.” I thought of the Camaro, and narrowed my eyes. “And maybe nicer than she is to me, in some ways.”

“Of course,” the raven agreed. “You were looking for a connection that’s not there because she doesn’t usually like people. But she’s usually surrounded by people who want something from her, or might want her dead.”

“I suppose that’s true,” I agreed, even though I thought it was more than Davin just not wanting her dead. He actively liked her, even though he’d met her and knew that she was cold, calculating, and distant. He clearly saw something else in her.

My raven friend seemed unbothered by my hesitance and went on, which was unusual for her.

Usually she let me talk, but tonight, it seemed, she needed me to understand something.

“He’s a change for her, so she likes him.

It’s uncomplicated, something she rarely gets.

The way she feels about you can never be uncomplicated.

She loves you, and wants the best for you, but she also wants you to do more.

Be more. She thinks you can do anything, but you don’t try as hard as she thinks you should.

She only likes him. There’s no real comparison. It’s what being a mother is.”

I truly stopped to consider that. She was certainly spot on about how my mother acted toward me, constantly complaining that I wasn’t living up to my potential.

But then she’d pressed Davin into my life, so neatly I hadn’t even wanted to say no.

“Then why introduce us, why push us together, if she only likes him?”

“Because she knows you’re lonely, and he might be a good friend.”

Wow, that was a lance to the gut.

I was lonely .

It wasn’t wrong, either.

It was also way more than I’d ever read into any of my mother’s actions before. I turned back to look at my raven friend. “You’re pretty smart, you know that?”

“Only because you listen.”

The door opened above me, revealing my mother’s assistant, Scary—err, Mary Windsor.

She’d been turned in her fifties, with mostly grayed blonde hair and lines around her sharp blue eyes, and she’d always put me to mind of strict nuns who taught at a Catholic school.

At least, the ones in movies. It wasn’t like I’d ever gone to a Catholic school to know for sure.

On the other hand, I was never in my life going to call her “the penguin,” so how much difference did it make?

“Ms. Windsor,” I said, as respectful as possible. “I’m here to see my mother, if she’s available.”

She looked me over for a long, deeply uncomfortable moment, like maybe if there was a soup stain on my shirt she would turn me away. Then she nodded and walked away, leaving the door open behind her.

I followed, jogging up the stairs, pausing only long enough to look back at my raven friend, who was sitting on the tree branch nearest the door. “And people wonder why I’m screwed up.”

The caws that followed me inside sounded very much like a cackle.

My mother was in her office, on a computer, and it was such a strange picture. Like she was a business woman, her long red hair tied neatly back in a chignon, reading glasses perched on her nose.

Reading glasses.

Huh.

She looked up at me when I entered, then motioned me in, so I complied, closing the door behind me with the thump of a soundproofed seal. That was my mother in a nutshell. The kind of person who soundproofed her office in her own home.

I watched as she removed the glasses and closed the laptop, but my eyes followed the things to where she put them on her desk. “You need those?”

She lifted a brow, but followed my gaze, then shrugged. “I keep the font on the computer small. They make it easier to read it. Besides, I was over forty when I was turned. Everything got a little better with the change, but no one is perfect. If you’ll recall, Charles always wore glasses.”

“I thought that was a fashion statement.”

She smiled at that, cocking her head to one side, her vision going distant. “That is a distinct possibility. He started wearing them in the seventies, and his initial style choices were certainly...unique.”

“He was your friend,” I said, letting my tone go flat and cutting to the chase.

She shook herself out of her reverie, blinking over at me. “Of course, dear. That’s why I wanted you investigating. I don’t imagine any convenient rats at his mansion had answers for you?”

I wondered why she hadn’t asked that at dinner, but then...

You can call me a rat , Wu Mei had said, matter-of-fact, as though she’d said it before. I will accept that title proudly.

“Wu Mei has been in Taipei since before he died.”

Mother didn’t seem surprised at that, just lifted a brow. “Has she?”

“She called me.” I cringed, remembering the conversation. “I also think she called me a dumpling.”

Mother’s eyes narrowed. “Jiǎozi?”

Because of course my mother knew a Chinese language. Was it Mandarin? I honestly didn’t even know that much, to know the names of the languages. “No, another kind. The soup ones.”

A muscle in her jaw ticked, like her son being called a soup dumpling was especially insulting. Maybe it was. What the hell did I know?

“You believe that she left before he was killed?”

“I do. She’s even more paranoid than you are. He approached her to ask her to overthrow you, and she saw the writing on the wall.”

I stopped at the edge of her desk, standing, watching her. She didn’t respond, so we just stayed there in silence for a moment.

Of course, as always, I was the one to break and speak first. My mother had nothing if not a will of steel. “Writing you put there, Mother. You did this. You put Charles up to this mess.”

She might have won the initial stare down, but this time, she was the first to break eye contact. For the first time in my entire life, over thirty years, I saw a real moment of human emotion on my mother’s face: regret.

“There have been whispers,” she said finally, deflating in her seat. “A few oddities. Cars running late, windows left open. It hasn’t resulted in anything yet, but some day, the wrong car will be late, and I’ll be trapped somewhere to see the sun rise.”

That was . . . well, that was impossible.

Mother was immortal.

Literally.

Mother was older than the Gregorian calendar. Probably older than France. Maybe older than western fucking civilization.

Mother couldn’t die. Okay, she was already dead, but she couldn’t be gone .

I crumbled into the chair across from her desk, staring at her, and after a moment, she continued without me having to say anything. Thank fuck, because I couldn’t have opened my mouth for anything right then.

“I don’t think it was Mei, rat though she might be.

Not Carmen either, bless her, she’s not nearly clever enough for it.

I don’t even think it’s Forsyth. He doesn’t have the power in this town that the others do, not yet.

” She pressed her hands into her desk, staring at the green blotter for a long moment before looking back up at me.

“But it is someone. I discussed it with Charles, and we decided we needed to find out who, sooner rather than later. So...so you’re right.

I did this. I got my best friend killed. ”

What the hell could I say to that? Charles being murdered only proved that they’d been right, the pair of them, and someone was trying to kill my mother. Someone who had killed Charles.

“This wasn’t a late car,” I pointed out. “This was rash. Violent. Bloody.”

She winced and looked away but nodded. “It seems likely that his investigation turned something up then.”

“That, or someone loyal to you took offense to him suggesting a coup. Who are your biggest supporters in town? Maybe I should have started the investigation with them.”

It was bizarre, but she actually seemed shocked by the notion of someone protecting her having committed the crime. My ancient, jaded mother, stunned by the possible negative outcomes of her own machinations. She didn’t even respond, just sat there staring at me for a long moment.

I sighed, but leaned toward her, meeting her eye and trying to project sympathy.

I was sympathetic. I was also just a little mad at her.

“Byzantine plots make messes, Mother. He was acting like he wanted to undermine your rule of the city. It’s only reasonable to think someone might have taken offense.

It’s at least as likely as someone figuring out the truth.

His assistant Kate was planning on coming to see you about it.

Reporting on the man she’d been working for for. ..how long?”

“Fifty years,” she muttered, then she looked up at me, again surprised. “She was?”

“She was. Said she overheard him with Mei two weeks ago, and it was difficult to get away to see you, but she thought you deserved to know.” I scooted forward in the chair again, laying my hands on the edge of her desk and drumming my fingers, suddenly filled with nervous energy.

“Frankly, it was a bit impassioned, considering she hadn’t made it to see you.

Maybe she was bullshitting me. It’s harder to tell with vampires than humans, but I’m pretty sure she meant every word. ”

“It wasn’t Kate,” Mother denied. “She’s.

..she’s a nice girl”—before I could scoff and tell her nice didn’t mean squat when it came to murder and she damned well knew it, she went on—“and frankly, I don’t think she has the backbone for it.

As you said, she didn’t find time to come see me.

She wanted to, but wanting to warn someone they’re being betrayed and doing it are different.

It takes a kind of fortitude I don’t think she has. Murder? Even more.”

And that? Was probably fair. Kate had seemed quite serious and earnest, which probably made her an excellent assistant, but that didn’t automatically translate into a massive amount of willpower.

“She’s a freeze,” I summarized.

“A what?”

I waved my hand in a forward spiral, ready to be finished with the conversation already. “Fight, flight, or freeze. She’s a freeze.”

“Ah. Yes, I would suppose so.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t...I didn’t want to.”

Honest to a fault as usual, that was my mother. She probably also hadn’t wanted to confront the fact that their little plot had gotten Charles killed. I couldn’t blame her for that part.

“I understand. But I need a list of your biggest supporters, especially the people you think would have...the fortitude to do something about it if they were offended by Charles plotting. You can text it if you want.” I snatched my hands off the desk suddenly, pressing them into my knees to push up out of the chair.

I was too damned tired for this. “I need to get to bed. I have appointments to try to rent out half the building tomorrow.”

For the first time since we’d started seriously talking, my mother smiled. “Renting half the building. What an excellent idea.”

I scowled at her, lifting a hand to point at her in a not-at-all threatening way.

Well, it might have been threatening if I wasn’t basically a kitten to her massively powerful ancient vampire.

“Don’t go thinking this was a good idea.

It’s a terrible idea and I’m still mad about it.

But...I guess it was a waste just leaving half the building empty all the time.

Maybe I can get a Chinese restaurant in there.

Or Indian. That would be amazing. I’d never eat anything but naan and butter chicken ever again. ”

She rolled her eyes at me, but she didn’t stop smiling as I marched back out the same way I had gone in. I only stopped long enough to duck my head at Scary Mary on my way past, and I was back on my bike headed for the city again in no time.

“Chicken,” Twist muttered, half in her sleep, as I started the engine. Of course she’d caught that. Incredible.

“More food tomorrow,” I promised. “We’re done for the day, and it’s bedtime.”