by Z. J. Cannon
I let out a low chuckle. “I don’t need to tell you what I can do for you. You said yourself that you recognize me, which means you already know. As for your game…” I nodded toward his watch. “You lost before it started. If you really thought I was more trouble than I was worth, you wouldn’t have bothered giving me a chance. You know who I am, which means you aren’t interested in what I have to say—you know it all already. You just wanted to see me sweat.” I let my smile grow. “Like I said. You lost.”
The final second ticked by. Ji-Hyun’s brother didn’t say anything. Next to me, Ji-Hyun held his breath.
Finally, Ji-Hyun’s brother inclined his head toward me the slightest bit. “Fair enough,” he said. “You’ve bought yourself five minutes. What sort of an agreement are you proposing?”
I tried not to show my relief on my face. I wasn’t afraid of yet another death, but what Ji-Hyun’s brother and his people might do when they discovered I didn’t stay that way… that was enough to send a preemptive shiver up my spine. “I need to get in a room with Eddie Ellison. From what I hear, that should be easy enough for you to arrange.”
Ji-Hyun’s brother wiggled his hand back and forth—maybe yes, maybe no. “And what are you offering?”
Now we came to the tricky part. I didn’t have the resources to offer him much of anything, and what I did have to offer—the ability to reduce his enemies to their component parts with my magic—wasn’t on the table. And I didn’t see much point in making any specific suggestions, when anything I could offer would be just as impossible as the next thing. My best bet was to let him take the lead, and then improvise as best I could—and cut my losses if it turned out I couldn’t get him what he wanted.
Which meant, of course, I would have to be very careful with the words I chose. I couldn’t risk my magic sniffing out the slightest suggestion of a binding promise.
I shrugged, and tried to look like my indifference was because I knew I could do anything he asked, rather than the opposite. “Just tell me what you need. Within reason, of course. Keeping in mind that I’m only asking for a meet-and-greet here. Don’t get greedy with what you ask for in return. But you know I have resources; I’m sure I can give you a fair trade.”
Ji-Hyun’s brother brought his finger to his chin. His brow creased in concentration. I couldn’t read the thoughts behind his eyes.
Abruptly, he lowered his hand. He waved to his right, and made a clicking noise like he was calling a dog. Immediately, two suited men I hadn’t noticed rose up from a shadowed corner table and walked in perfect unison to his side. They looked cut from the same bargain action-hero mold, with blond crew cuts, square jaws, and muscles that came from cut-rate personal trainers.
“Kill him,” Ji-Hyun’s brother ordered, pointing at me. He didn’t even bother to lower his voice. And with good reason, apparently—no one else in the club so much as glanced our way at his words.
I dodged back as the two men reached for me. “I told you we can help each other.”
The men caught me by the arms. Their fingers dug in tight enough to leave bruises.
“Leave him as a present for the police,” Ji-Hyun’s brother advised. “Somewhere that won’t tie him back to us, of course. The sooner they know he’s dead, the less likely they’ll be to comb through the city looking for him. And when you’re done, come back and give my little brother a lesson in proper gift-giving etiquette. Make sure it sticks this time. He’s proved to be something of a slow learner.”
Then, and only then, did he turn back to me.
“I heard your offer,” he said. “I also heard what you didn’t say. Namely, why you’re here asking favors from me, if you have as many resources as you say you do. I’m proud of what I’ve built here, but I’m realistic. I know the difference between someone like me and someone like you. You should be looking at me like I’m something to scrape off your shoe, but here you are, asking for a favor. Why would you do that unless you had nowhere else to turn?”
This man was inconveniently clever. But then, I supposed he had to be. “I’m here because you know Boston, and you know Ellison. In this particular area, you have resources I don’t have. And yes, my situation at the moment is less than ideal—it would be pointless to deny that, when you can flick on any TV and see my face. That doesn’t mean I can’t deliver on what I’m offering.”
“Working with desperate men is a dangerous business. The police could track you here before we have a chance to complete our arrangement. Or, more likely, you could show up on my doorstep again next week, looking for something bigger. No matter how high a price I ask, it wouldn’t be worth the risk. Whatever you can do for me, I can get it from people I know and trust, or I can do without.”
I glanced over at Ji-Hyun, who was watching me without blinking, no doubt waiting to see if I could get us both out of this. “What if we were to get to know each other?”
He laughed in a monotone, with no humor in it. “If you’re offering me your dubious charms in exchange for your life, try one of my sisters instead. I have better things to do than listen to you beg.”
“I’m not begging.” I kept my voice steady. “Only pointing out what you’ll be missing out on if you don’t think beyond short-term risk. Do you think I just came to you to get to Ellison? There are a dozen easier ways for someone like me to get at him.” Or there would have been, if I had been who he thought I was. I would just have to hope he didn’t think to question that any more than he already had.
“You and I, our interests align well,” I continued. “I work globally, and have connections you can’t access. You’re local, with a strong foothold in a single city, which is something I don’t have. I, for better or for worse, am a household name these days. You stay under the radar. All things considered, our strengths complement each other nicely. I thought the business with Ellison would be a good way to test whether we’d work well together.”
“Then this was a test.” I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“It still is.” A steady voice. Steady hands. “You haven’t made any decisions you can’t take back. Yet.”
“You haven’t told me why I would want to risk forming ties with someone so… notorious. I’ve done a good job at keeping myself under the radar so far. Do you think that was an accident? Or that I would risk that invisibility so lightly?”
“You already know the benefits.” I turned my voice to a lazy, bored drawl. “If you knew anyone else who had the international connections I have, you wouldn’t have listened this long.”
He watched me silently, still not convinced.
“You’re right—as a business transaction, what I’m proposing is risky, simply because of who I am,” I said. “So don’t think of it as a business transaction. Consider the meeting with Ellison a favor. A sign of goodwill between two people with good reason to want to learn whether they can trust each other. And after you do me that favor, maybe I can do you one in return.”
He broke his stone-faced silence with a laugh. “You think you’ll get your meeting first? That’s not how this is going to work. If I accept your proposal, I’ll be the one asking for a favor. Then we’ll see if you can back up your words enough to justify me going out of my way to help you. And if not… well, other options are still on the table.” He glanced over at his security with a knife-edged smile.
“So you want to test me in return. Fair enough.” I nodded. “Anything in particular you had in mind?”
“A certain incoming shipment of ours has been tied up in customs for two weeks. Paperwork problems. The cargo is perishable, and and won’t last much longer. Get the shipment cleared for me. You used to handle a lot of international trade, didn’t you? This should be easy enough, for someone with your connections.” His eyes glinted at me, waiting to see me flinch.
I didn’t flinch for him. I did, however, raise an eyebrow. “Perishable? What exactly is in this shipment? I doubt you’re importing black-market fruits and vegetables to sell at the local f
armers’ market.”
“Live animals. Highly illegal. Extremely valuable to certain buyers.” His eyes narrowed. “Will that be a problem for you? You’re not an animal lover, are you, Mr. Thorne?”
I didn’t love the idea, that was for certain. As much as I would have liked to talk myself into the idea that he was running some sort of underground conservation operation, that was about as unlikely as the farmer’s-market story. But there were worse things he could have asked me to do.
The bigger problem here, as far as I was concerned, was that I had no idea how I was supposed to do what he was asking. I’d had contacts in customs. Once. But my dealings with them had all been legal and aboveboard… aside from the fact that I had been operating under a series of aliases. I had made my living selling historical artifacts from various points in my long life, after “discovering” them in their countries of origin. I’d had an unfair advantage, yes, but not the kind that would have helped me here, even if Arkanica’s lies hadn’t destroyed my relationships with those contacts beyond all repair.
But better to say yes, and do my best to figure it out as I went along, than admit to any uncertainty and say goodbye to my best chance at Ellison before I even had a chance to try. Not to mention, if I said no, I would probably be setting myself up for an unpleasant death, and an even more unpleasant wakeup afterward. “I’ll do what I can.”
“That doesn’t sound like a promise to me.”
“I don’t make promises. I said I’ll do what I can. Is that good enough for you, or should we stop wasting each other’s time?”
He thought about it for a long a few seconds. Then he nodded. He extended his hand, and we shook. My cuffs rattled.
He looked down at my wrists with a faint smile of amusement. “We’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?” But he didn’t move, or order anyone else to do it for him.
Well, let him have his little power move. The way I counted it, I had come out ahead. And made a new friend, to boot. I smiled at Ji-Hyun. The smile he gave me in return was shaky with relief.
My new friend smiled at Ji-Hyun, too. Without taking his eyes off his brother, he told his men, “The second part of my order still stands. Make sure my little brother is motivated to do better next time. This situation worked out for the best—possibly—but that doesn’t excuse his missteps.”
“Hang on just a minute. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be here talking to you in the first place. And your cargo would be rotting in customs.”
Ji-Hyun’s brother sat back down. His eyes slid away from Ji-Hyun, as if his brother no longer existed. As his men’s hands clamped down on Ji-Hyun’s arms, he patted the table in front of him. “Sit with me,” he said. “Have a drink.” It wasn’t an invitation. More like an order.
Ji-Hyun babbled his protests as his brother’s security started to haul him away. No one else in the club blinked.
I didn’t take in the words Ji-Hyun used. Only his tone, and the panic on his face. His voice rang in my head like a war song. A call to battle. I had danced to this tune before. I knew all the steps. My fists clenched.
I stared down at the cuffs. My new friend had hobbled me better than he knew. As long as the steel stayed in contact with my skin, I would be left with only my feet and my fists—and wouldn’t even be able to use the latter properly. I didn’t have to count the number of potential opponents in the club to know how that fight would turn out.
Once, I would have done it anyway. Now, I pictured Eddie Ellison’s smirk, and the rows of fae prisoners I had seen underneath Arkanica’s headquarters. Arkanica would build their blood supply back up again soon, if I didn’t stop them.
We all have to make compromises, I told an imaginary Delaney before she could voice her just-as-imaginary argument, and slid into the circular booth across from Ji-Hyun’s brother.
He lazily waved a hand in the air. Two drinks appeared almost immediately, one for him, one for me. I didn’t recognize the liquor. Something dark, almost black.
“A toast to friendship,” he said, raising his glass.
I considered the risks of accepting a drink from someone I had few reasons to trust and many reasons not to. Then I thought about the odds of him knowing what it would take to drug someone with my unique genetic composition. I raised the glass, and poured the contents down my throat in one long gulp. It tasted like licorice and leather. And it was strong—very strong. Enough to throw a human for a loop, no matter their alcohol tolerance. It would likely make my thoughts a little blurry around the edges for the next hour or two, but wouldn’t do much more than that. If he had really wanted to get me drunk, he should have added a little cream. That was the way to do it, with one of the fae.
I set my glass back down. “Strange to call someone a friend when you don’t even know their name.”
He inclined his head in acknowledgment, a smile playing along the corners of his lips. “Call me JD.”
He gave the call me an intonation that reminded me of negotiating with the fae. “But that’s not your real name, is it?”
His eyebrows raised. “Huh. Clever.” He leaned back. “Do you know the story of the Cyclops?”
I blinked at the change of subject. “Ugly monster with one eye?” I offered. “That’s all I’ve got.”
JD gave a disappointed shake of his head. “Not well-versed in mythology, I take it. Or literature.”
“I prefer Irish mythology. And I’ve never been much of a reader.”
“That’s sad to hear. A man who doesn’t read is a man who travels through the world with one eye shut. He lacks perspective.” He sighed. “Well, no matter. Let me enlighten you. Odysseus and his men were sailing home after the Trojan war. You are familiar with the Trojan war, are you not?”
I didn’t make the mistake of taking that as a genuine question. I said nothing.
“They happened upon a small island, and stopped to stretch their legs. Wouldn’t you know it, they found food and beds and clean water to drink, all laid out as if someone had prepared the place especially for them. They promptly gorged themselves and fell asleep. Someone should have told them there was no such thing as a free lunch.”
He gave another wave. Fresh drinks appeared in front of both of us.
“When the Cyclops—the true owner of the cave they had decided to treat as their personal vacation rental—found them, he thought they looked tastier than the food they had stolen. He ate two of them then and there—picked their bones clean while the others watched. The next day, he ate two more. And the next—”
“Is there a point to this?” I interrupted.
“Great literature should be savored slowly, in my opinion. But if you insist.” He paused to take a sip of his drink. “Odysseus was a smart man. He knew there was no point in fighting—that would only ensure he was next on the menu. So he decided to befriend his captor instead. He told a few jokes. Complimented his shoes. They traded war stories over a good strong whiskey.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re taking a few liberties with the original text.”
“Hush. You’ll miss the most important part. The Cyclops asked his new friend his name. Odysseus told him his name was Nobody.” He paused, and looked at me expectantly.
“And why is that?” I asked, because he clearly wanted me to.
He smiled. “The Cyclops, as you’ll recall, was used to drinking plain water. He passed out drunk before the night was through. And the minute he did, Odysseus jabbed him in the eye with a hot poker, blinding him.” He slammed his hand down on the table. The liquid in both our glasses jumped. “The Cyclops, of course, woke up right away—who could sleep through that?—and ran around the island in a fury, yelling, ‘Nobody attacked me!’ While his monster friends were all grumbling at him for waking them in the middle of the night to tell him he hadn’t been attacked, Odysseus and his men sailed away.”
I considered the story for a moment, then pushed my drink away.
“John Doe does a lot of business in the c
ity these days, you’ll find,” my new friend said with a smile. “As I said, I prefer to keep a low profile. I don’t want every government in the world fighting over me someday. Maybe you could learn a thing or two from me.”
Through the wall, I heard the faint sound of Ji-Hyun screaming.
Chapter 16
The lights in the back room of JD’s club were cheap fluorescents, giving off a constant drone and occasionally flickering. There was no room for shadows. Underneath the drone, the music from out front pulsed, but it was strangely faint for how close it was. I couldn’t feel it in my bones anymore.
Maybe the room had some light soundproofing—that would explain why I hadn’t heard Ji-Hyun’s screams more clearly. He wasn’t in here anymore, but I had no doubt that this was where JD’s lackeys had taken him. There was a streak of drying blood on the wall in front of me, and a few strands of short black hair that matched his on the floor by my feet.
Those same men were in the room with me now. I shifted on the scuffed leather couch, halfheartedly sipping a a beer one of them had pressed into my hands a while back. My handcuffs were still on. One of the lackeys glanced my way, and I told him with my eyes what would happen to him if he tried to give me the same treatment they had given Ji-Hyun. I would have liked to think my silent threat made a difference, but I knew better. They were leaving me untouched on JD’s orders, and nothing more.
Not that they looked eager for those orders to change. They were hanging back from me as much as possible. One of them stood stiffly by the door; the other had his arms crossed and his back to the wall.
The three of us had been waiting here for over two hours now, ever since I had made my phone call. One phone call to save me, just like at the police station. I hadn’t called Skye this time. She was in the middle of changing locations, and I wasn’t about to give her an excuse to delay. If it came to that, I would walk away and find another way to get to Ellison.
The cheap phone JD had given me was sitting on the beat-up card table in front of me. All of us glanced at it every few seconds, our gazes drawn there as if magnetized. The next call I got would determine whether my magic kept on accepting my insistence that I didn’t need to go to Skye for help—and, maybe, whether JD’s orders would change. After two hours, though, I imagined we were all beginning to doubt whether the call would ever—