Okay. Any ideas about the culprits?" I couldn't keep my eyebrow from going up. If he and the prime minister were playing games, this wasn't a fun one.
"Not beyond the usual suspects." He took a deep breath and shook the tension from his body. "In my business, stalkers are common and every drunk wanker thinks he can sing better. But this… Well, seems a bit more intense."
"In what way?" I shifted in my seat. My senses were on alert, scanning the club as he spoke. This was serious. I wish these idiots would tell me right away when someone is trying to kill them. At least as a common courtesy in case I got caught in the crossfire.
"There was a bomb found under his limousine last night," the prime minister spoke up. I'd been traveling with Zane just a few days before, and this was not welcome news.
"I swear I would have said something before," Zane twisted to look behind him, "but I had no idea that it was this serious."
"Maybe you should go back to the beginning," I interjected.
"Well, about a month ago there was a man with a gun outside my house in London. One of my security guards noticed him hanging out on the corner and called the cops. He told them that he'd only been waiting for a friend. Other than the fact that he had a gun, the police had no reason to hold him. Two days later the security guard was found dead in his flat. Strangled."
His frown deepened. "The police didn't think the two incidents were related, but I'm not so sure.
"Then last night." He shook his head. "Before we headed back to the hotel, Azir's people did a sweep of the car. That's when they found the bomb."
We weren't speaking, but since he is under my protection it might have been nice if the sheik could have mentioned this.
"But if it was on a car you shared, then it could have been for you or Azir." I held up a hand. "Of course, that isn't good news either way. But you don't know it was for you."
"No, you don't understand. My assistant, Georgette, had hired the car. It was under her name. Azir had come to the dinner in a separate car. It was only at the last minute that we decided to share mine."
"Okay, so are those the only two incidents?" I drummed my fingers on my leg.
"I've been thinking back today. There's been some odd people at the benefits we've been doing. They wear cloaks and weird contacts—their eyes sort of glow. I thought they must be some kind of cult that just wants to rock on, but I'm not so sure now. The security officers mentioned in the report that a weird chant was coming from the group."
I knew about weird cults, but this sounded more like warlocks to me. I've spent way too much time in bad warlocks' company. Chanting is something they love to do. It's how they bring forth the evil that follows.
I should probably say that there are thousands of do-gooding warlocks who would never hurt a fly. Sam is one of them. But most of the ones I
come
into
contact
with are assholes.
"Has anything strange happened at the concerts?"
"We've had a lot of people get sick. At first everyone believed it was food poisoning, but that was never proven. A couple of people had to be taken to the hospital."
The band interrupted with a loud guitar solo and Zane paused in his story. We all clapped for the guy when he finished and then Zane continued.
"And to be honest all of a sudden I have stage fright. I've never experienced anything like it before. But now it's almost debilitating. The prime minister seems to think I may have been cursed. I've been working through it, but every time I perform it gets tougher." He rubbed his hand over his tight stomach.
I did a quick aura check but didn't see anything dark and gloomy hanging over him. There were no holes, but his aura was a strange color—amber with brown dots. The dots might have something to do with his stage fright.
"When we get back to the hotel, I have some stuff in my bag that may help." I patted his arm in a comforting way. Onstage he had seemed so confident and rock god-ish