by S. M. Reine
“I’ve got a good feeling too,” he said.
* * *
Shatter Cage showed up to his first day working for Silverclaw Cult to find that his office had been furnished. A brass bar stood in the center of the room—a common perch for those with avian feet, like phoenixes. The dark walls would show fewer burn marks. His furniture was gloriously oversized and gloomy.
It wasn’t a shrine. He wasn’t even canonized yet. But it was a pretty huge step forward. “The journey of a thousand kilometers,” Cage muttered, grinning toothily at his office.
There was a button on the wall to adjust the window’s tint; he punched it a few times to make the city flick rapidly between day and night. He couldn’t tell if it was magic or technology that changed the view so completely.
“We made the tinting darker on your office, in case you need to change in here,” Silverclaw said from the doorway.
Silverclaw was wearing a different bolero today. It was studded with turquoise, matching the pin on his bedazzled cowboy hat. When he smiled, he revealed all those shiny silver teeth within his mouth, plus one gold tooth replacing his right canine. His boots jingled with every step into the office. The man was consummate branding, such a personality, and right now he was looking at Cage on purpose to acknowledge his existence.
Cage could’ve died happy.
But he wasn’t going to die. This was just going to keep getting better. It was wild to think, shaking Silverclaw’s hand, that this was only the beginning of what Cage hoped would be a long career.
So why did he feel worms of guilt wriggling in his belly?
“What’s the tinting for? Are people likely to try and spy on me when I’m naked?” Cage joked.
“It’s for when you change into a phoenix,” Silverclaw said. “Helps enclose your fire in here so everyone’s safer.”
The worms of guilt had grown into a giant snake. “I am so grateful for your thoughtfulness, sir,” Cage said. “And I am so honored that you came here to greet me on my first day.”
“I’m not here to socialize,” Silverclaw said. “I don’t often bring thieves into The Reliquary. I wanna get you working with me on the next phase of Silverclaw Cult as soon as possible. I’d like to show you around and help you see my vision for the future.”
Cage was in Silverclaw’s vision for the future?
He pinched his thigh so hard that it brought tears to his eyes. He was definitely awake. This conversation was happening.
It pained Cage to burst this gorgeous bubble, but he couldn’t think of a worse way to start off a relationship with his new father figure than with a giant pack of lies. “I didn’t successfully deliver the Death Underpants to Lucifer. I still don’t understand why Brigid gave me credit, but I didn’t finish the job, and…” Cage’s throat felt thick as he looked around the office that he wanted so badly to be his. “I’m a great thief, sir. I will work for you harder than I’ve ever worked in my life. But I didn’t do the job.”
Silverclaw took off his hat, ran a hand through his hair, and heaved a sigh. “I stole the infernal blade because I wanted to kill someone.”
“They say that you stole it and saved the world.”
“I did steal it, and I did save the world. But saving the world wasn’t planned.” Silverclaw rested a heavy hand on Cage’s shoulder. “Men like us, when we do the right thing, it’s accident as much as not. But when opportunities arise, we use them. I used my opportunity to build an empire. What’ll you do with your opportunity?”
“I hope it’s not too soon for this, sir, but I am in love with you and if it were biologically possible, I would bear your children with infinite pride and honor,” Cage said.
Silverclaw laughed and patted him again. “Son, I’ve had babes a lot hotter than you bear my children. Don’t ever talk to me like that again. I am your boss now, and we’re not friends. Do we have an understanding?”
Cage nodded emphatically. He knew that he shouldn’t have let his excitement get the better of him, but dammit, they were family.
He was about to follow Silverclaw out of the room when his phone chirped. Vex was calling him. Cage answered, and it felt so strange to hear his roommate’s voice in his ear instead of his brain. “Cage! Cage, Cage, Cage! I found her!”
“Brigid?” Cage asked. There was only one “her” that he cared about.
“I know why she’s with Daladier,” Vex said. “He has holdings in the Winter Court. They’re doing this big masquerade soon—it’s said that Ymir’s going to be wearing the Girdle—”
“What? I can’t follow you,” he said.
Vex took a deep breath and blew it out. Silverclaw hung nearby, watching with idle amusement.
“Ymir’s Girdle is going to make a semi-public appearance at a Winter Court gala, and Brigid needs Daladier’s invitation to access the event and steal it,” Vex said.
Ymir’s Girdle. Cage knew that name. It was one of the greatest pre-Genesis artifacts, since it had come from the Sidhe of Old before they went extinct. It had one of the Five Draconites embedded in it. Possessing it as a non-sidhe could be deadly. Fencing it would be impossible. And that was assuming anyone survived the Winter Court long enough to steal it in the first place.
Brigid had joined with Daladier and passed on Silverclaw so that she could perform what would surely be the most lucrative, most difficult theft of all time.
“I think I could get an invitation to the masquerade,” ventured Vex.
“Oh my gods,” Cage said. He was about to hyperventilate. “Can I call you back?” He hung up before Vex could answer. “Silverclaw, sir, would you like to show me around, or would you like me to steal Ymir’s Girdle for the honor and glory of Silverclaw Cult?” Cage asked breathlessly. He was shivering with the effort it took to hold still.
Silverclaw’s guffaw was like Santa Claus and unicorns rolled up in one. “Sounds good, son. Show me what you can do.”
“Yes, sir,” Cage said.
He leaped into the elevator. He hit the streets.
And he prepared to race Brigid Byrne one more time.
* * *
Shatter Cage’s quest for infamy continues in Reign of Monsters!
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