Sweep in Peace (Innkeeper Chronicles, #2)

by Ilona Andrews

The vampires looked mercilessly bored. The Merchants gathered in a circle around one of the older foxes, who was explaining something that required waving of paws and twitching of ears. Some of the otrokars abandoned all pretense at politeness and stretched out on the floor. One of the larger, older otrokar warriors was snoring. A couple of younger ones watched him, exchanging speculative glances. If they pulled out the interstellar equivalent of a magic marker and started drawing a penis on his forehead, I would have to step in.

:0

“No, no, please. We’ll take care of it. I insist.” He glanced up to the balcony. “Sophie, would you mind?” Sophie rose and left the balcony. He chopped down my apple trees. He would pay for this. “A human?” Arland asked. “You are sending a human against that?” Robart pointed at the Sentinel, which had veered away from the orchard and was spinning in the field. “That is a Class 6 mass-casualty guard unit. This thing is designed to be nearly indestructible. It will take concentrated laser fire or KPSM to take it down.” “KPSM?” I was too mad to keep the fury out of my voice. “Kinetic Projectile of Significant Mass,” Robart said. “He means a giant chunk of metal launched from the cannon of a spaceship in orbit,” Lady Isur told me. Sophie appeared on the screen, walking through the orchard, still wearing her gray gown and carrying a sword in a sheath in her left hand.

well then ...

“This is suicide.” Dagorkun glanced at his mother. “I can take a squad right now. Give us twenty minutes, we’ll turn it into scrap metal.” Khanum’s eyes narrowed. She raised her hand and Dagorkun fell silent. “We are in a residential neighborhood,” I ground out. “There is a limit to how long I can hide this. I’m going to take care of it.” George shot me a warning glance. “Please. It’s my mess. Let me clean it up.” I stared at him, wishing I could shoot laser beams out of my eyes.

Dude .... poor trees

The Sentinel’s blue light pulsed. The colossal machine charged Sophie. It was a no-holds-barred direct assault. It meant to crush her. She smiled. The melancholy in her eyes vanished. They shone with pure, unbridled joy. These eyes, they belonged to someone else, someone merciless and cruel and predatory. Someone who lived for a chance to take another being’s life and reveled in doing it. The Sentinel rolled straight at her. She struck. Her sword flashed with white, so bright it was blinding.

:D

Someone tugged on my robe. I turned. Cookie stood next to me, his big blue eyes filled with sadness. The corners of his lynx ears drooped. He looked so pitiful I almost reached out to pet his fluffy head. “Mistress Innkeeper?” Even his voice was tiny. “Yes?” He was so fluffy.

:)

Nuan Ara folded his paws on his lap. “It is Nuan Re, the esteemed grandmother, she of great wisdom, the root from which we grow.” “May her feet never touch the ground.” It wasn’t my first rodeo. I knew the customs. The Merchant clans revered their elders. If Grandmother wanted something, the entire clan would turn themselves inside out to get it. I had to honor this request or the Nuans would hate me forever. What could she possibly want? “She wishes to obtain a small predator.” “A small predator?” “Yes.” Nuan Ara nodded. “The silent, stealthy, vicious killer that prowls by night and mercilessly murders its victims for food and pleasure.” Um… What? “And she believes she can find this predator here?” Nuan Ara nodded. “She has seen the images. They have glowing eyes and razor claws and are renowned for their cruelty.” “Aha.” What was she talking about? “She is in particular interested in the Ennui predator. She very much likes its demeanor and coloring in the images. She understands she may not get that particular one, but perhaps one that resembles it? A young one?” The Ennui predator. “Where did she find these images?” “On your planet’s holonet,” Nuan Ara said helpfully. We didn’t have holonet. We had Internet… Oh. “So, the esteemed grandmother would like a kitten that looks like Grumpy Cat?” I picked up my laptop, typed in the image search for Grumpy Cat, and showed him the picture. “Yes!”

This whole section is just 'chef's kiss' mwhah

“Did I scare you?” Sophie asked. The emerald bounced off the floor in slow motion. “You alarmed me. The safety of my guests is my first priority.” “I’m not a psychopath,” Sophie said. “Nor am I psychotic.” The emerald landed in the path of the other Nuan Merchants. “What’s the difference?” I asked. “A psychotic suffers a break from reality, often accompanied by hallucinations and delusions. They are not aware of their own illness. I’m quite aware of my reality.”

important distinction.

“A psychopath is unable to experience empathy. He can murder without remorse. His existence is free of guilt. His victim has no more significance to him than a used tissue he has discarded into a wastebasket. I’m able to empathize. I feel guilt and sadness, and I’m capable of acts of genuine kindness.” She described it so clinically, almost as if talking about someone else. “However, I’m a serial killer.” “Pause.” I nudged the screen to the side and looked at her. She sat in my chair, her legs tucked under her. Her sword rested on the floor next to her. “When I was younger, I experienced some of the worst things adults could do to a child,” she said. “It caused damage, and I realize now that this damage is irreversible.” “I’m sorry,” I said and meant it.

oO

Yet here we are.” She smiled. “There comes a point where you have to stop trying to repair yourself and accept the fact that you’re broken. George is right. I hate him for it, but he is right. Today was the first time I truly lived in months, if only for a few moments. I’ve decided that I would rather live for a few moments every few weeks than try to deny my nature.” As long as her nature didn’t interfere with the safety of my guests, we would be just fine. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Dina. Murder doesn’t interest me. I’m addicted to winning fights. I love it, the thrill of it, the rush of testing my skill against my opponent, the sharp finality of it, but I control my sword. My sword doesn’t control me.” “I’m not afraid of you,” I told her. “But if you attack a guest in my inn, I will contain you.” “We understand each other then.” “Yes, we do.” “That makes me happy.” She smiled and drank her tea.

oO

“Oh really?” You don’t say. “Yes. In fact, it’s ice-cold.” He raised a half-filled glass. Thin slivers of ice floated on its surface. “I drew this from the tap in my sink.” “How unfortunate. When did this happen?” “About two minutes ago.” “While you were in the shower?” “Yes.” “My apologies. I’ll get right on that.” George squinted at me, his face thoughtful, and waved the call off. Sophie leaned back and laughed. “You really love those trees.” I restarted the recording. “When I came here, Gertrude Hunt lay dormant. The inn hadn’t been active for years. Without visitors, it slowly starved and fell into a deep, deathlike sleep. I was told it would be so, but I didn’t realize what that actually meant.” The memories of that day surfaced and took over, bringing with them a sharp, intense dread.

deserved

I had to purchase enough groceries for a small army, review the kittens at the shelter, and find some sort of entertainment to occupy a detachment of trained killers, or they would never leave me alone. Piece of cake.

:D

The male otrokar started forward, moving deliberately, his head lowered slightly, his eyes unblinking, his gaze focused on Lord Robart with terrible intensity. Uh-oh. Jack peeled himself from the wall by the partition and casually strolled down on an intercept course. Khanum said something, her face projecting derision. And there go the fangs. A slim, hard-looking otrokar female smoothly moved into the big soldier’s path. “Where are you going, Kolto?” “I’m going to wring his neck,” the large otrokar growled. “First, you won’t get through.” “Watch me.” “And if you did manage it, Khanum would rip off your balls and make you eat them. She’s got it. If she needs our help, she’ll call for it.” Behind the partition, Dagorkun said something, his pose relaxed, his arms crossed on his chest. The other two otrokars guffawed. The Khanum cracked a smile. Lord Robart did his best to propel himself and his high-tech armor into a massive leap, but Arland, Lady Isur, and the Battle Chaplain grabbed him

:)

What will you tell the soldiers inside them? They didn’t even get to taste the battle.” “They knew the risks,” Robart barked. “Yes, but they trust us to lead them into battle. They trust us to not waste their lives. I will not sacrifice any more of my knights on this pointless war.” “If you’re too weak, then I will find another ally.” Arland strode to the Keurig and I heard the water pour. If he needed more tea, I would have gotten him some. “Like House Meer?” Arland asked, opening the refrigerator. “The cowards who wouldn’t even fight?” “At least House Meer refuses to honor your pitiful attempts at peace,” Robart said. “Their dissent is…” He inhaled. I smelled coffee. Oh no.

:) well it'll shut him up hopefully ... and fingers crossed he's not an angry drunk type

Odalon blinked. Robart drank another mighty swallow. “All of you”—he waved his index finger around—“are cowards. We must be primal. Resolute. Like our ancestors. Our ancestors didn’t need… weapons. They didn’t need armor. They had their teeth.” He bared his fangs, clenched his right fist, and flexed his arm. “Of course they did,” I murmured, keeping my voice soothing. Maybe he would just sit here and tell us about his ancestors and that would be that. “And they hunted their enemies.” He finished off the mug and flipped it upside down on the table. He looked down at his beautiful armor. “This dung. I don’t need this dung.” I knew exactly where this was going. “Grab him!” Arland didn’t move. Odalon stared at Robart, his eyes wide. Robart hit his crest. The armor fell off him, revealing a black shirt and pants underneath. He yanked the clothes from his body. “To hunt!” Robart roared and shot out of the back door and into the rain. Damn it. Orro paused his chopping, rolled his head back, and let out several barking snorts. “It’s not funny. Arland!” I pointed at him with my broom. “He needed it,” Arland said, his tone unrepentant. I squeezed the words through my teeth. “Go get him, my lord, before he hunts a car or a police cruiser and Officer Marais hauls him in for questioning.” Arland sighed and took off after Robart into the rain.

oO

“Why do you always strip naked when you’re drunk?” I asked Odalon. “This happened before?” The Battle Chaplain’s eyebrows crept up. “Lord Arland drank some accidentally last time he was here.” “It must be the armor. We live in it, so we remove it only in the safety of our homes. If your armor is off, you are clean, safe, and free, probably well fed and possibly ready to meet your partner in the privacy of your bedroom.” Odalon’s somber face remained stoic, but a tiny mischievous light played in his eyes. “Did Lord Arland mention his cousin’s Earthborn wife by any chance while he was indisposed?” I kept a straight face. “Possibly.” “The universe is vast and we’re its greatest mystery,” Odalon murmured and followed Arland outside.

:D

“Poison wouldn’t be in the otrokar character. They favor direct violence.” “And that’s precisely why I am coming. In matters of diplomacy and love, one must strive for spontaneity. Doing the unexpected often gets you what you want. It wouldn’t be typical for the Horde to resort to poison, so we must assume they will.” We walked to the staircase, the doors opening as we approached the walls. “What possible reasons would they have to poison me?” “I can think of several.

Oo

She was right. It made perfect sense and it was so awful. The sadness of it took your breath away. “This is marvelous,” Caldenia said. “Press that lever and you can wrench her heart right out. You couldn’t ask for a better weakness. You should take me to all your talks. They are so entertaining.”

Oo

In reality, that hypothetical transgression will overshadow whatever bad blood they already have.” “They killed my brother, stole our planet, but most of all, they wouldn’t let us have the autumn festival?” “Yes. That’s a peculiar quirk of the psychology of small isolated gatherings,

Oo

Arland bared his teeth. “Anytime!” Robart pushed forward. “Enough!” Lady Isur barked. “You may be Marshals, but I’m the Bitch of Eskar. Do not make me show you how I earned my name.” Robart took a step back. Arland turned and stormed out of the room.

Oo

“I’m inclined to be generous.” Out of the mouth of a Merchant, there were no more dangerous words.

Oo

“One quintillionth of a second,” George said without raising his head from his reader. Jack pondered him. “Have you started memorizing random crap again to amuse yourself?” “No, I’m connected to the wireless,” George said. “I googled it.”

Lol

Orro was a wizard. Finding ingredients that didn’t set off digestive alarms in five different species would’ve driven me crazy. He’d not only managed that but had turned what he found into culinary masterpieces. Too bad he would leave after the summit. I would miss him, and I wasn’t sure what I regretted losing more—his great food or his dramatic pronouncements.

;)

have fallen victim to Turan Adin, having attacked him as he entered the dining hall during dinner.” “Like cowards,” Ruga added on my left. “Fallen victim?” Vampires saw themselves as predators, not prey. That was a scathing insult. “Indeed,” Odalon smiled, baring his fangs. “Their resistance lasted but a few breaths, and despite our most valiant efforts, they couldn’t be saved.” The laughter burst out so fast I had to clamp my hand over my mouth before I snorted. “Even the intervention of an otrokar swordsman failed to make a difference as they were dead within moments of their ill-fated charge.” I glanced at Ruga.

Oo

“Cai Pa?” Caldenia blinked. “You mean to tell me this comes from that sniveling worm of a magnate who decorated his palace with jewel-eyed portraits of his horrid family? After two decades, he still wants me dead over a casual remark?” “Yes.” Caldenia put her hand over her chest, her gloved fingertips barely touching her skin, leaned back, and laughed. It was a rich, throaty laugh, showing off the forest of triangular, sharp teeth inside her mouth. Everyone stared. “After all these years, I’ve still got it.” She chuckled.

Oo

“If I leave, you would ruin this kitchen.” He raised his chin. “I have spoken.” He turned, went inside, and slammed the screen door behind him. I remembered to close my mouth. “Oh thank the stars.” Caldenia exhaled. “No offense to your cooking, but the thought of going back to it was causing me actual anxiety.”

:)