by S T Branton
“Good. Thank you. This means a lot to me.” I smiled even though he couldn’t see me. “Noon tomorrow. I’ll be there early.”
“So will we,” Deacon said. “Be safe, Vic. We’ll be watching out for you.”
***
Eighteen hours after that phone call, I stood on the steps in front of City Hall, staring up at the doors with a packet of notes from Namiko in my hand. Still no word from Maya, but I didn’t have the time or headspace to devote to worrying about that right now. The silver watch on my wrist, one of the few relics from my past that I still owned, said it was a quarter to noon.
Almost showtime.
“Are you ready, Marcus?” I asked under my breath, squaring my jaw.
As always, Victoria. I am steadfast.
“Yeah.” I exhaled. “You know what? Me too.” Steadfast was a good way to describe how I wanted to be from now on.
In this frame of mind, I began to ascend the stairs, one step at a time. I had dressed in the only set of clothes I had that might have passed for professional: charcoal-grey dress pants, a white blouse that hadn’t seen the light of day in years, and a blazer I’d surreptitiously lifted from Maya’s collection. The sleeves were more like three-quarters on me, but the shoulders fit okay, and it made my disguise much more convincing. My sensible heels clicked on the concrete.
It felt like I was wearing someone else’s skin. Was this how Dorias lived? How he thrived? The thought made a shiver run down my spine.
“Shannon!” The doors at the top of the steps opened, revealing a smartly-dressed young man who was the yuppiest yuppie I’d ever seen in my life. If not for the full suit, he could’ve been a Mormon missionary, with his perfectly cut and combed hair and his scrubbed, boyish face. He smiled expansively, holding out his hand for a good ten seconds before I reached him. “So nice to meet you. I’m Theo, Mayor Inglewood’s assistant. Please, come this way.”
I returned the smile, hoping that mine looked half as genuine. “Thank you so much for having me. I know Mayor Inglewood’s time is at a premium right now.”
The young man beamed as if he was personally responsible for filling his boss’s calendar. “That’s right, it always is.” He shook his head and forced a laugh. “But he told me personally he wouldn’t miss this meeting for the world. He and Novalin have had a mutually beneficial relationship for many years now, and you know the mayor values his long-term allies.”
“Of course. Still, I didn’t expect such a warm welcome.” In fact, it made me sort of nervous; I didn’t know how he knew me or what he was doing. Maybe he thought I was a different Shannon? I checked my watch again.
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re representing a multi-billion-dollar interest to the mayor, of which he is very appreciative and protective. He personally insisted that I go out of my way to roll out the red carpet, so to speak. For as long as you’re here, you are our guest of honor.”
“That’s very flattering.” I held my papers tightly, a smile plastered permanently on my face. The sensation of being in over my head was nigh overwhelming.
We strode side by side into City Hall, and as my escort guided us toward the elevators, I snuck a peek at my notes. The name NOVALIN was emblazoned on a sheet of letterhead at the top, followed by a bunch of pharmaceutical jargon that was borderline incomprehensible to me.
Great. I stifled the urge to roll my eyes. The feeling of treading water in the deep end intensified. We couldn’t be talking about crime statistics or the state of the mob, or anything I actually knew more than nothing about. Of course I’d been saddled with a field that couldn’t be further from my area of expertise. It was pretty clear as I flipped through the pages, acting like I was simply reviewing talking points for the impending meeting, that I was basically winging it.
And I hoped to anyone who was listening that I’d be able to pull it off.
“I trust the group is doing well if you’re reaching out to negotiate yet another generous donation to our campaign.” The yuppie’s voice cut into my thoughts, bringing me back into reality at the same time that we stepped into a waiting elevator.
“Yes, very well.” I resisted the compulsion to peek at my notes again—I hadn’t seen anything about this being a recurring donation. “We’ve performed excellently these last three quarters, even with the, ah, tertiary details.” I held my breath, hoping I hadn’t just set a trap for myself.
The young politico leaned in and lowered his voice. “Political Science at Princeton and Harvard Law. I don’t know shit about pharmaceuticals.” He leaned back and forced another laugh. I joined in, more relieved than he could know.
“Yeah, well, that’s why they pay me the big bucks,” I quipped. “All you need to remember is that we’d love to be able to reach out and spread some of this hard-earned wealth in ways that will prove significant.”
“Noble of you,” he said, nodding. “Mayor Inglewood is a true visionary, but as you well know, nothing about politics is cheap. Our success depends on the generosity of groups like yours.” He turned to me amiably. “I assume you’ve reviewed the tenets of Mayor Inglewood’s campaign platform and found them to your liking?”
Shit. “We certainly have.” The only thing to do was double down and hope everything worked out. “I think his stance on the key issues will reap significant rewards for all parties involved.” The bullshit sat heavy on my tongue, and I prayed I wouldn’t stumble over it.
“Interesting!” The smile on his face never faltered. “That’s taking into account the promises Mr. Mayor has made to reduce funding for so-called ‘big pharma?’”
Shit! “Well… that’s why I’m here. I’m sure we can figure out an arrangement that will suit us both.” Once the words were out of my mouth, I realized they made a pretty strong implication that Mayor Inglewood was open to bribery, and I wished I could take it back.
Mind your words, Victoria. Diplomacy is key. Marcus sounded far too amused.
So even the Roman soldier from thousands of years ago noticed my possible faux pas. Not a great sign.
Fortunately, the guy didn’t seem to notice or care about any subtle improprieties. He glanced at me. “So how did someone like you get into this line of work? No offense, but I’m used to ushering stuffy middle-aged men into the office.”
“It’s a calling,” I said, mostly without thinking. “Maybe I would have been a doctor, but I’m not that well-suited for medical school.”
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow.
Sounding more and more impressive every minute.
“I mean, this type of work is much more my speed,” I corrected. The hot wave of a blush threatened to creep up my neck. Man, I was so bad at this. “I like to negotiate, and I think this way I can feel like I’m affecting change on a…bigger scale.” I sounded like a high school student ad-libbing their presentation, but I had no choice but to roll with it.
“That’s a fascinating way to look at it.” The kid looked actually thoughtful for a moment, as if my vague ramblings somehow managed to provoke something in his mind. “I’m sure the mayor will welcome this sort of out-of-the-box insight.”
I smiled tightly. “I hope so.”
That depends on his intelligence, quipped Marcus, the worst cheerleader in the world. You must hope it is not too high.
The soft ding of the car reaching our floor rescued me from further humiliation. My companion brought me out into a wide, short hallway with the kind of carpet that silences footsteps. “This way,” he said, gesturing grandly toward a door with Kenneth Inglewood’s name stenciled on the glass. I could see the shape of the incumbent mayor standing near his desk, apparently on the phone. “You’ll have to excuse him if he’s just finishing up a phone call. What with the campaign fast approaching, he’s incredibly busy.”
“No problem at all,” I lied, dreading the possibility of having to wait. After my demonstrated inability to fake it until I make it, I really wanted this whole thing to be over with as soon as possible. Or at least, I wanted the shi
t to hit the fan so I’d be back in my depth again.
The young man cracked the door open just a sliver and knocked lightly, causing Mayor Inglewood to look up from his desk with an expression of slight annoyance. As soon as he saw me, the irritation cleared, and he let a big, photo-op smile stretch across his face. Motioning us in, he pointed to a chair on the opposite side of his desk.
I went to it. My escort took up a position off to the left. He looked like a modern butler in his carefully tailored suit, lips still upturned.
Inglewood stayed on the phone for approximately thirty more seconds. As he placed the receiver back into its cradle, he turned to me with an apologetic smile. “Very sorry about that, Miss—” He glanced down at a paper on his desk. “Miss Lambert. A public servant’s work is never done.”
“I admire your dedication to the office, sir.” Every word I spoke felt foreign in my mouth. I’d grown too used to navigating social situations via alcohol or my giant flaming sword. “Our group believes you’re a real asset to the city.”
His smile widened, showing both rows of gleaming white teeth. Inglewood had always been handsome, but in close quarters, both his image and persona smacked of artificiality. I made it my goal to try and dig beneath that shellacked surface a little, to see who the real Kenneth Inglewood was. I had a feeling that might explain why Lorcan wanted him out of the picture.
“Well, of course I do my best, but I’d be nothing without my right-hand man here.” He swept a hand out to indicate the yuppie, who simply smiled. “I trust Theo provided you every courtesy.”
“He was a true gentleman, sir.”
“Good, good.” Inglewood folded his hands. “No need for such formalities as ‘sir,’ by the way. I’d like for us to speak as equals.” His eyes roved over me as he talked in a way I didn’t much like. It reminded me of the way I got assessed by patrons at every shitty dive I ever went into. “Now.” He leaned forward, and I didn’t like that either. An aftershock of expensive cologne slapped me in the face. “Let’s discuss the makings of a deal.”
Instantly, my regret over implying corruption in his office started to evaporate. He looked like a hungry animal, and his gaze told me that he smelled blood in the water. I put my internal defenses up. Inglewood was a guy who thought he could get whatever he wanted out of me.
So I figured I’d throw out the script.
“Actually, screw a deal.”
“What?” he said, his smile still holding.
“Look, I’m sorry, but I lied to you. I’m not here to give you money or whatever.”
“Really? Then what are you here to give me?”
“A message. You’re in danger.”
“What?” Confusion invaded his expression and his eyes hardened. “In danger? From whom?” He paused. “Certainly not you.”
Why was that so insulting? I sighed. “No. But someone wants to kill you.”
He opened his mouth, his face a mask of disbelief, and the sound of the office door swinging open stopped the words from coming out.
We both turned as a carbon copy of Mayor Kenneth Inglewood walked into the room.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“What the hell…” The real Inglewood’s mouth dropped open. He was too startled by the intrusion to really grasp what he was seeing, and the dumb, blank look on his face suited him.
Dorias fed him a dose of that sharky grin. “Isn’t it obvious?” He chortled. “I’m you. The new you.”
The mayor looked at me and back at the shapeshifter. He still comprehended nothing. I pointed helpfully at Dorias. “That guy. He’s the one who wants to take you out.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Inglewood finally. “And I sure as hell don’t have time for this. I’m calling security.” He reached for the desk phone. Dorias moved so fast I only saw him as a blur for a second. When he came back into focus, he was holding a massive knife above the mayor’s frozen wrist, point down.
“Bold move from a man who is going to die regardless. I’m not sure which I admire more—your blind courage or your ignorance.”
Sweat stood out on Inglewood’s brow and upper lip. “You…there’s no way you’ll get away with this.”
Dorias smiled widely. “I like a challenge, Mr. Mayor.”
I had seen enough. Jumping up from my seat so that my chair clattered over backwards, I forced my way in between the two men, dislodging the knife with a swift strike to the shapeshifter’s wrist.
Instinctively, he recoiled his hand.
Inglewood’s eyes caught mine. Obviously, he was surprised that the darling lobbyist from Philly just stood up to the assailant. Standing between him and the shapeshifter, I said to the mayor, “Get the hell out of the way, so I can take care of this filth.” I nodded toward Dorias.
He moved for the door, but I saw the aide catch him by the arm, ushering him toward a side room. Smart move, I thought. The kid has no idea what madmen are on the other side of the office door. They’d take their chances with me. The shapeshifter observed, amused, as Inglewood’s aide whisked him off into the small alcove. “You think you’re providing him a service, you little pest?” he asked me. His eyes, still the mayor’s, gleamed with blatant malice. “He’s doomed either way. Why not step out and let the big dogs deal with their prey?”
“Because the big dogs don’t belong here, you prick,” I said. “That’s a lesson we taught your friend Rupert.”
“Yes…most unfortunate. For him and for you.” Dorias shrugged. “Perhaps I would have left you alone if I could’ve achieved my means without involving you. I believe in efficiency. But now you’ve introduced the aspect of vengeance.”
“I’m familiar with it.” I stepped up closer to him, spotting my sword hanging on his belt. He noticed, and he drew it quickly.
“Is this what you’re after?” he taunted, grinning. “Let’s see you earn it back.” The blade sprung to life, and he swung it at me almost immediately, a sloppy, downward slice. I dodged, the heat singeing my shoulder just before the blade sliced through the mayor’s desk like it was paper mâché.
The sword may recognize you if you call to it, Marcus suggested.
I tried sending out a psychic summons to the Gladius Solis. Nothing happened, except Dorias taking another swing. I rolled underneath it, and as I got up, he almost lost his balance. One of his feet flailed in the air, and I took advantage of a golden opportunity. Seizing the Italian dress shoe in both hands, I shoved him forward into the bulwark of the desk.
He struck the edge hard. A frustrated grunt fell from his lips, but it took him almost no time to regain himself. “I see you’re a dirty fighter,” he noted disdainfully. “How unsurprising that the weapon of a fallen god ended up in the hands of someone with no honor.”
“Funny, coming from an asshole who makes his way through the world using deception,” I shot back. “How long have you been messing with me as Jules?”
“Long enough.” Dorias shrugged. “Can I help it if I like to have fun at work?” He jabbed at me with the blade. I jumped back. “You’re nimbler than you look. It’s mildly infuriating.”
“I can’t see how your big plan was to steal Lorcan’s thunder at the last minute,” I told him. “You’re a shitty fighter.”
The swings became a little harder, a little more vicious. Dorias glared at me now. A vein was beginning to throb along his jaw. “Now it’s you who sounds ignorant,” he hissed. “All Apprenti can fight, better than any human. I was simply having fun with you.” On the last word, the sword seemed to intensify in brightness and color. A new wave of temperature washed over me.
It was no fun being on the receiving end of the most powerful weapon in the universe.
Dorias tried to cut me in half, and I almost got clipped on the next few swings. They were becoming frighteningly precise, too. Almost as frightening as the fact that he really had just been toying with me, testing my resilience.
I resented everything about that. And I wanted my damn sword back.
/>
The next time he struck out at me, I threw caution to the wind and dodged toward him, narrowly avoiding the blade’s blazing edge. Surprised, Dorias faltered in his follow-through, allowing me to hit him hard in an unguarded section of his ribs. The breath rushed out of him, and as he bent forward at the waist, his grip loosened on the hilt. It wobbled in his hands.
I grabbed on.
“No!” The word left his throat in a harsh bark. His fingers renewed their white-knuckle grasp. We grappled on either side of the hilt for what felt like a small eternity, staring into each other’s eyes over the glowing blade. While he was still winded, I sucked in the deepest breath I could muster and bore down, forcing Dorias backward. His heel struck a decisive blow against the back wall. He stumbled.
That was all the leverage I needed. As he lurched to catch himself, I wrenched my weapon free and swung it wide. He gasped, pressing himself back, away from the very real danger.
“Not so nice to be on this side, is it?” I asked.
In answer, he pulled his lips back in an eerily inhuman expression. The snarl that boiled behind his teeth was the sound of an animal gearing up to fight for its life. Mayor Inglewood’s face jittered, then slid back into focus. Then he lunged forward, grabbing for my throat with one hand, the sword with the other. He got neither.
I darted backward, Gladius Solis in front of me. His anger left him even less guarded than before, for which I intended to make him pay. Swordless, he’d drawn a big-ass knife from inside his suit jacket and slashed the air like a lunatic with that thing. I dipped and weaved to the best of my ability, but he definitely caught some split ends.
He fights with chaos, said Marcus. You must counter with order.
Sometimes, he was almost too cryptic. But I thought I understood what he meant. With a hard push, I began herding Dorias back along the wall, seeking to pin him down. He tried to out-footwork me, but the rage worked against him, and so did the form he’d chosen. His broad shoulders butted up against the wood paneling, hard enough to snap his head back.