“It’s understandable,” Gant replied, without even a glance at Evans. “Learning the hard way is a widespread flaw of the human race. We must take care it does not prove fatal, hmmm? Now, what were we discussing? Ah, yes,” he nodded, “the ulfar. Such savage, dim-witted creatures. This world was an unwise choice for their kind. Many would have died if not for me. Jace claimed to recognize the need for the shelter I provided. But his jealousy festered, and now he’s compromised my entire operation.”
“You think he’s trying to regain his pack?”
“I think he’s a coward. Instead of confronting me, he ran around the city creating crime scenes for the police to poke and prod. He left me exposed, and that’s not a position I care for. It’s been years since I’ve had to deal with the SPCD, much less teach them a lesson. And they are not quick learners,” he mused in disappointment. “As I said…fatal flaw.”
His warning had come through loud and clear. But if Gant had investigated me, he knew my reputation. I’d tip him off if I bowed too quickly. “Seems to me the cops are doing their job. Kidnapping and mutilation do fall under their jurisdiction.”
“Whatever you consider yourself now, lyrriken, you were Guild once. The nature of my business is no mystery to you. If it truly offended your sensibilities, this little visit would have happened a long time ago. So, I suggest you tuck your human inclinations aside, and we move on.” Assuming my agreement, Gant didn’t wait for it. “I’m told you have something for me? Nadine’s call was light on the details.”
“She was light on the details of your welcome wagon, too. Do you greet all your potential clients with claws?”
“You can never be too careful when vetting newcomers. Though, periodic performance evaluations of long-term employees can prove enlightening.” His gaze flitted to Nadine. She didn’t respond, but she didn’t have to. Gant had made their relationship clear.
Nadine worked for the bad guy.
I couldn’t process what that meant now. I was more worried about Evans. I gave his leg a firm, cautionary tap with my boot and refocused everyone. “So. What’s next?”
“Present your item.” Gant beckoned me. Fluid leaked from the stitching on his wrist as it bent. “If I find it acceptable, I will consider your handling of Jace to be your entry fee.”
I stood and removed my jacket. As I unbuttoned my shirt, Gant’s dark brows raised in expectation. They flattened at seeing the tank top underneath—then lifted again as he spotted what rested above the neckline, cradled in a hint of cleavage: the dragon-eye necklace.
“Come closer.” He turned sideways in his chair.
I rounded the side of the desk, but he made no move to get up. Sucking in my pride, I knelt. Getting in all nice and cozy, with his sewn-on skin, I had to work to keep my pulse slow. It was even harder to hide my disgust at the odor wafting from the seams.
His temporary layers were past their expiration date.
This close, the variations were more obvious, too. The edge peeking out from his right sleeve was darker and more hide-like than the left. The “mask” on his face appeared human, but the animal-scent it carried implied otherwise. His hair was fake and reeked of fresh dye. The color of the roots, as he buried his head in my chest to inspect the merchandise, caught my eye. Blue? I was wrong about why they cut Nyakree’s hair.
There was something else, something buried deeper… Skinwalker? Maybe. The odor of decay was interfering. Though, I wasn’t sure the species mattered so much as the reason. Had Gant lost his mind? Was this some sick attempt to cover his burns? Or were there magical benefits to his appearance I hadn’t grasped yet?
I looked at Nadine. Her casual posture was a lie. The truth was in the preoccupied touch of concern in her eyes as they met mine. She’s worried I’ll blow it, I thought. Which wouldn’t be a concern, if she’d prepped me on his appearance.
But she couldn’t.
My reaction was part of the test, too.
Angry, I broke her gaze to check on Evans. He was alternating between eyeing Nyakree’s unconscious form and scanning the ceiling, like ninjas might drop from the rafters—again.
Gant lifted the pendant from my chest with a tentative hand. His warm breath hit places I didn’t want it to. But I took solace in the obvious. If Gant was turned on by anything, it was the eye of a dead dragon, not me. “Remarkable,” he chirped. “The fully-preserved eye of a female firedrake is quite rare.”
“A female?” I said. “How do you know?”
“It’s simple. Dragon eyes provide the wearer various types of mental enhancements. Male elders are rarely born with such abilities, leaving no reason for their eyes to be preserved. This one must have been special to be held in such pristine condition. A queen, no doubt?”
“I have no idea.”
“That’s a shame.” He sat back. “If you can discover its source before the auction, it will fetch a higher price. Still, it’s an exceptional find. Did you know the process of preservation is an ancient rite, requiring many hours of painstaking labor and the secretions of no less than a dozen creatures?”
“Secretions?” Evans shuddered.
I gave him warning glance number two. Evans mouthed a quick apology, but Gant was too absorbed to be offended. And he liked hearing himself talk.
“Some of the chemicals involved help shrink the eye. Some protect its structure,” he said. “Others preserve it physically without lessening its psychic strength. I can tell, great care was taken with this one.” Gant placed the eye back on my chest. His gloved fingers lingered. “Such vibrant skin for a lyrriken. You must spend a great deal of time in this form.”
“Every day,” I said warily.
“Tell me, how do you care for it?”
“Umm…” By keeping it far away from you, I thought. But we were almost in the clear. I couldn’t ask what the fuck was wrong with him, any more than I could let on how much he was creeping me out. “Lotion,” I said. “And bathing in the blood of my enemies.”
A laugh burst out from the sagging flesh around his mouth, and Gant spun back around in his chair. “The hostess will review terms on your way out. They are non-negotiable. The next auction will be soon, so be prepared for the item to move quickly.”
Standing, I went back to my seat. “I thought they were all private sales.”
“Only for my most trusted clients,” Gant said, brisk enough to know I wasn’t one of them. “Where and when will be communicated to you in time.”
“I might be looking to buy, too.”
Pulling more wine into his mouth, he paused. “Such as?”
“Something…” My gaze wandered. I left it on the ciguapa behind him long enough to betray my interest. “Alive.”
“I see.” Lustful amusement twisted his lips. “I thought living among humans all these years might have dulled your exotic tastes.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a little indulgence, now and then.” My eyes roamed over Nyakree again. “Any restrictions for after I take possession?”
“Not at all. What you do with your purchase is entirely up to you.”
“Perfect. But…” I winced, “it has been a while. One might not do it. Do you have a selection here I could preview?”
“I’m afraid not. I keep very little live inventory here. Most is held at an off-site facility until the day of the auction.”
“A good smuggler never keeps all his stolen goods in one basket.”
He laughed once more. I was scoring some real points now. “I can, however, grant you first looks of my inventory a few minutes prior to the auction.”
“That will be fine. Thank you.”
“I’ve kept tabs on your work these last few months, Dahlia. It’s brave, what you do. Manipulating law enforcement from the inside. Are you not afraid they might have occasion to see the real you?”
Clearly, he was. Because, it didn’t matter what skin he wrapped himself in, Arno Gant was a monster. And he knew it. We had that in common. “Trust me, Mr. Gant,” I
boasted, “the SCPD has no idea what’s in their midst.” I held his stare boldly, making sure he believed the bullshit I was spewing. “Any estimate on the age of the eye—in your expert opinion? It might help me find the origin. You did say that would fetch me a higher price?”
“A thorough appraisal requires you to leave the item. Otherwise, all I can tell you is it’s quite old. Perhaps, the oldest I’ve seen. Which makes me wonder how it fell into your hands?”
“I took it off someone who didn’t need it anymore. Since I have no ties to Drimera, I didn’t see a reason to hold onto it. Nadine was kind enough to direct me to you.”
“Kindness had nothing to do with it,” he said. “In fact, she hesitated at first, not wanting to get involved. Then the idea of appeasing me grew on her. A chance to atone for recent delinquencies, perhaps? But profit doesn’t erase truancy. Explanation, however, might soften the blow,” he said, transferring his full attention to Nadine. “I know you like to pretend things are not as they appear, siren. But ignoring our arrangement won’t make it go away.”
“Arrangement?” Nadine’s smile was indifferent. We were all wearing masks today, apparently. “An arrangement implies choice on both sides, Arno.”
“So, it does.” Abruptly, he snarled, “Your little bar has become more of a distraction than you promised. Do I need to burn it down to remind you this is where you belong?”
I flinched, my empathy choking on a burst of emotion from Evans. If I was telepathic, I would have been mentally shouting at him to ignore whatever anger-charged heroics were darting through his head. I settled for another, harder kick to his leg.
“I’ve always been lenient with you, Nadine. I’ve treated you like family,” Gant went on, sounding more and more like his father. “But my patience has limits. Do your part, or my good graces will dry up like a fish out of water. And we both know how that ends.”
Not even the layers of makeup on Nadine’s face could hide her sudden loss of color. She’d greatly underestimated the cost of bringing us here.
“Miss Nite,” Gant’s stare shot to mine. “I’ll be in touch.”
With a curt wave, he concluded our meeting. Four hooded ulfar filed in and led us back out the way we came in. The hostess was waiting at the podium with a tablet. I scanned the information. The contract was straightforward and basic. Gant’s cut was sizeable. No surprise there. He had a monopoly on the goods he provided. Anyone desperate enough to come to him was desperate enough to agree to his terms. I did, and we left.
As we crossed the street and headed to the car, I expected Evans to gush out a play-by-play of our tangle with the ninja werewolves. But he had other things on his mind. “I can’t believe we left her there.” In front of me, he glanced back. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t gone to Drimera, if I hadn’t brought her back—”
“We brought her back,” I reminded him. “Hopefully, my interest will keep her alive until I can figure out a way to get her out.”
Evans walked on briskly with a shake of his head.
Nadine tried to catch up. “Slow down, sugar.” She reached for his hand.
Yanking away, Evans spun around. His frustration poured out in her direction. “What the hell are you doing working for that asshole?”
“It’s all right.” Nadine slid a purple-painted nail down his arm. “There’s a lot of assholes out there, honey. We all work for one eventually.”
“Well I’ve never worked for a psychotic, skin-wearing, slaughter-happy, ninja werewolf-owning asshole.” After that awkward mouthful, Evans drew a breath. “And if I did, I’d quit. So why haven’t you? And why would you let him talk to you like that?”
“He’s right,” I said. “We need to know how deep you’re in and why.”
Nadine rolled her eyes at me. “Do I ask you to spill all your secrets?”
“Actually, you do. There’s just usually a bar and a bottle between us.”
Giving into an amused grunt, Nadine strolled beside me across the parking lot. Evans was waiting at the jeep. She leaned against it and folded her arms over her chest. “The associate you were asking about earlier, the one who likes the nightlife?”
Between her closed-off, protective stance and lack of eye contact, I knew. “It’s you, isn’t it? You troll the clubs and—what? Mesmerize people? Sing them to death? Remind me not to take you to karaoke night.”
Nadine glanced between us, hesitating. “Do you know how sirens kill? It isn’t by luring our victims with a song until their ships crash on a rocky shore. Though, the legend isn’t completely inaccurate.”
I stepped back. “Are you luring the victims in to be abducted?”
“I’m not a hired gun, Dahl. I thought you knew me better than that.”
“So did I.”
Nadine glanced away with a fluff of her hair. “Dance floors are a never-ending salad bar of chemicals. Everyone’s excited. Emotions are high. Glands are working overtime. A little humming in their ears, and they don’t even feel it. It’s not enough for permanent damage. Just a little off the top to keep my powers at full strength. And, occasionally, some for Gant.”
“Then, you’re like a…a succubus?” Evans said. It was his turn to step back. “Have you done that to me?”
“Sweetie, no. That’s not…” Reaching for him, Nadine smothered her reaction when he moved away. “I would never hurt you.”
“But you hurt others,” he said. “How many? How many have you killed?”
“I haven’t. Not for a long time, anyway,” she admitted. “The chemicals excreted by certain species boosts our abilities, but it doesn’t take much. And we don’t have to keep it. We can expel it back out in a gaseous state. Gant has a few buyers. I’m not sure what they do with it. Honestly, I don’t want to know.”
“Don’t ask, don’t tell?” I said. “That always works out well.”
“It keeps my dealings with Arno to a minimum,” she said. “And that works well for me. I prefer to spend as little time in that monster’s company as possible.”
“How about none?” Evans jumped in.
“It isn’t that simple, hon,” she smiled. “I can’t just walk away.”
“Really? Watch how easy it is.” Evans turned and walked off. I thought he’d change his mind and come back, but he crossed the street, hailed a passing cab, and was gone before I could swallow my surprise.
“It’s okay,” she said, watching the cab’s taillights fade into the dark. “Casey’s sweet. But once he’s dealt with Marnie’s loss, he won’t need me anymore.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. It was the whole point. Besides, I don’t love him like you do.”
“I don’t—” Nadine’s pursed lips cut me off. “Not like that,” I said. “Not like you think. I can’t.”
“Isn’t that what you said about your partner with the pretty eyes?” Nadine batted her own for emphasis. “And it’s what you’ll say about the next one that comes along. And the next. I am so over your excuses, Dahl. Why aren’t you?”
“Dammit, Nadine, I swear, if you say, ‘when are you going to meet a nice man and settle down’, I will blast you across the street. Casey is different. He’s my first true friend. The only one I’ve ever had. I won’t risk losing him—for any reason. Now can we please focus on something relevant. Like why the hell you would ever work for the Market?”
“Let it go, Dahl. I got you in the door. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Not if it’s going to cost you.”
“Everything has a cost, and you don’t need to be involved in mine. You don’t need me. You’re lyrriken,” she said, and walked away; as if my kind were above such attachments. And most were. The desire for relationships and inclusion was a vulnerable, unattractive trait, a weakness of our inferior half. But I’d embraced my human side and found it far less weak than I was raised to believe. It had given me a unique perspective, a different sort of strength—and created a need inside me that was becoming all too clear.
Nineteen
Frost climbed the tunnel walls. Ice crunched beneath my feet. A heavy cold had formed inside me, and I couldn’t shake it. Each time I heated my body to counteract the temperature, it dropped again.
My weary legs on autopilot, I zipped up my jacket and kept going.
I had no choice. I had no idea how long I’d been here—underground in the maze of corridors. I’d lost all sense of time. Each direction held the same stones, the same curved, concrete walls. Every intersection brought me back in a loop to the same place. I kept waiting for it to change, for the cycle to break. But I came back to the same place every time, the same square room swarming with trauma. The room with the door I didn’t want to open.
It’s the only way out, I thought. I have to open it.
I stepped closer, over the tar-like puddles of black covering the floor. Ghostly wisps lapped at my boots. Thick waves of negative emotions radiated from the rotted wood, bouncing into me as rapidly as the clouds of breath fled my body.
With a touch, the chains on the door rusted and crumbled. Another touch, and the door creaked open. A burst of icy air pushed it wider. Black flames roared in the doorway, but they produced no heat—only pain. I steeled myself against the discomfort and stepped through.
Shaking off the sticky ghosts, I crossed the chamber. It was rough and rocky. The breeze had vanished, yet something was making the single bulb hanging from above swing back and forth, casting moments of light on the old cage elevator in front of me, and the dark mineshaft below. Neither were inviting. Both were old and set the hair on the back of my neck on edge.
But I’d come this far. And “back” wasn’t the way out.
I stepped inside the metal cage, and the elevator floor groaned. The wooden planks gave beneath my feet, like some great weight had followed me in. I closed the gate, eyeing the control box. It looked older than me, dangling from its housing and coated in dust. Webs clung to the knobs. I reached to pull them free, and the cage shook. The metal winch jerked and screeched; harder, and one side of the cage dipped. Gasping, my boots sliding fast on the slant, I clutched at the wall, locking my fingers in the metal links as the winch slipped a little further. Belts squealed as they struggled to hold.
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