Elemental Assassin 01 - Spider's Bite

shelter.”
    “Unfortunately, I’m probably not going to be able to make it to that,” he said. “So I thought I’d see you today.”
    Roslyn tilted her head down and looked over the tops of her glasses at him. “Really? Is that why you came all the way out here? To tell me we aren’t meeting later? I don’t think so. You want something, Finn. Just tell me what it is. You know how much I hate it when someone bullshits me. It’s bad enough when I have to do it to my clients.”
    He nodded. “All right. I’m interested in learning more about someone who frequents your nightclub and wanted to clear it with you first in case anything … unpleasant happens tonight when we have a little chat with him.”
    Roslyn’s eyes cut to me before snapping back to Finn. “Who?”
    Finn drew in a breath. “Charles Carlyle. Calls himself—”
    “Chuckie C.,” Roslyn finished in a flat voice. “I know him.”
    Roslyn didn’t ask Finn any of the obvious questions, like why we were interested in Carlyle, what he’d done, or more importantly, what we were going to do to him. The vampire had been a Southtown hooker for a long time before she’d moved up into management. She knew asking questions was a quick way to get dead.
    Donovan Caine leaned forward. “What can you tell us about him?”
    Roslyn took a delicate sip of her blood and smiled. Her fangs were a crimson stain in her mouth. “My clients like their anonymity. My club wouldn’t last long if I squealed to everybody who came knocking on my front door. Especially a cop like you. I know you used to work vice. I remember seeing you at Northern Aggression more than once.”
    Caine frowned and opened his mouth, but I cut in.
    “He’s with us,” I said. “Detective Caine isn’t going to bust you for anything. And if he ever dares to hassle you, I’ll deal with him myself. Finn takes good care of his friends, Roslyn. You know that.”
    Roslyn took another sip of blood, then pushed her glass aside. “Fine, I’ll play along, but only because it’s Finn. What do you want to know about Carlyle?”
    “Everything,” Finn said. “What he likes, who he hangs out with, what the girls say about him.”
    Roslyn shrugged. “Not much to tell. He’s a vamp who fancies himself to be a player and a great fuck, despite his tiny dick. Comes in almost every night and gets a private room in the back. Likes girls that look like they’re twelve. Occasionally gets rougher than what we allow at the club. And he’s always bragging to the girls about what a hotshot he is. How he’s putting together his own crew and making his move in the underworld. Macho bullshit like that. A small fish, although he’s been flashing a lot of cash lately. More drinks, more girls, a party for anybody he’s friends with.”
    So Chuckie C. had cash to burn. More proof he was working for the Air elemental. She’d ponied up half my fee up front. Made sense she’d spread the embezzled wealth around to her underlings, too.
    Finn reached into his jacket and fished out the headshot of Gordon Giles from Fletcher’s file. “What about this guy? Was he one of Carlyle’s friends?”
    Roslyn tapped a manicured nail on Giles’s nose. “Gordon? Yeah, the two of them used to hang out a lot and party with the girls. Not so much recently.”
    Hmm. Sounded like Gordon Giles had dumped Carlyle around the same time he’d approached Donovan Caine about the embezzlement at Halo Industries. Maybe Giles had realized he was in over his head—or maybe he’d grown a conscience.
    “So what do you really need?” Roslyn asked. “You said you wanted to talk to Carlyle at the club.”
    “Yeah,” Finn said. “The private room he reserves … any way we could see and hear what’s going on inside?”
    Roslyn sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “Perhaps. But like I said before, my clients enjoy their anonymity. They trust me with their secrets— all their secrets. I wouldn’t last long if word got out I’d breached that trust.”
    Finn put on his most charming smile. “Surely you could make an exception just this once. For me.”
    Roslyn laughed, a light, pealing sound at odds with the hard set of her features. “You’re a charmer, Finn, and I enjoy your company. You make me laugh, which is hard to do. But I’m not risking my business, my livelihood, so you can settle some vendetta with Carlyle.”
    Fletcher’s ruined face flashed before my eyes. Vendetta? Oh no, this was