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“All my contacts and associates are in Felport,” Susan said, but she sounded uncertain,
and Marla could taste the win.
“So bring ’em. Hell, you can be like a medieval queen, and give out lands to your
worthy knights. Let your lieutenants run the different neighborhoods. It’s a totally clean
slate out here. Organize it any way you like.”
“I will need time to consider your offer,” Susan said.
Marla sat back and nodded. Susan always made a big deal of thinking things through,
being careful, not rushing in, but she wanted this, Marla could tell. Susan had never
liked Felport, had certainly never loved it, not the way Marla did. Circumstance and
opportunity had brought her there, when she’d started out as the sorcerer Gregor’s
apprentice, before she’d surpassed him with her own skills. Control was the important
thing for Susan, and the chance to control a major city would be too great a temptation
for her—it would even overcome her animosity toward Marla.
“We’ll meet again this evening, then,” Cole said.
“I wish we hadn’t had to give Susan anything,” Rondeau said as he packed his bag that
night, after the negotiations were finished, the bindings sworn, and power over San
Francisco given to Susan. “She doesn’t deserve this place. She’ll be a better ruler than
Mutex would have been, but that’s about all I can say in her favor.”
“Watch your mouth,” Marla said. “You’re talking about Her Highness, Queen of San
Francisco. I hope she doesn’t get swallowed by an earthquake. In the meantime, I had
Hamil send over some guys to rob Susan’s apartments and make it look like the
Chupacabra boys did it.”
“Sweet,” Rondeau said. “She’s got some great furniture.” He glanced at her. “Of course,
now that you aren’t going to disappear, you’ve got Ch’ang Hao to worry about.”
“I remember. But I’m used to worrying. It’s my job.”
Rondeau went to the window and looked out at the city. “I enjoyed this place,” he said
after a while. “I’m glad we came.”
“Yeah,” Marla said. “Me, too.” She closed her suitcase. “Now let’s get the hell out of
here, and go back home where we belong.”
“I get the window seat this time,” Rondeau said.
End – Blood Engines