“They’ll be gone eventually. I’m patient. What else?”
“I don’t have anything else to offer you, Max,” she answered. That was a lie, she knew… but the closest thing she had to a bargaining chip was something she would never give up in a million years. Never Aster.
“I want you. On my team again.”
“No.”
“You’d be my second in command. I’d talk to the old members of the team, and get them to form a separate group to work under you. You’d double check with me on anything you did, but other than that, you’d be completely autonomous. Free to use your team as you see fit.”
Other than that, she thought. As if it was inconsequential, to be checking in with him on every move she made. “I don’t agree with the way you do things. I don’t want to be associated with you.”
He laughed, throaty, deep, rich, while she stood there in stony silence.
“Kayden,” he said, when he’d stopped, “You’re already associated with me. People say our names in the same breath, even when we haven’t worked together in two years. When my name appears in the newspapers, yours is never far behind.”
“I’m working to change that.”
“And you’ll be working against that impression for decades, to no effect, I guarantee you.”
Kayden turned and looked out the window, unwilling to look Max in his brilliantly blue eyes for any longer.
He continued, and she knew he was smiling smugly at her even without looking at him, “Regardless of our different methods, we always shared the same goals. To clean up this filthy world of ours.”
“You do it by putting drugs on the street, stealing, extorting. I can’t agree with that. I never did. It doesn’t make any sense, to improve things by making them worse.”
Max smiled, “It’s ugly on the surface, but it’s more money, more power, and it gives me the leverage to really affect things. The only people I hurt are the same people who cause the problems in the first place.”
It was a refrain she had heard often enough before. She folded her arms.
He changed tactics, “Let me ask you – would you rather be doing things your way, failing to change things or would you rather work under me and make a difference?”
“I am making a difference,” Kayden answered, “I’m working to make this world a better place.”
“Of course,” he replied, and she didn’t miss the hint of condescension in his voice, “You left my team to go do good work, it’s just pure coincidence that it’s black, brown, or yellow criminals you target.”
Kayden frowned, “Hard to avoid, when the only notable gang of whites is yours. Some old friends and allies of mine still work for you… I can’t go around attacking them, can I? I’m working to improve our city, but I’m not going to beat up people I’ve been out to drinks with.”
“And in the process, you’re doing little to shake the notion that you’re a part of Empire Eighty-Eight,” Max smiled, “It’s amusing to hear you try and justify your perspective, but you’re ignoring the elephant in the room. Cut the B.S. and tell me you don’t feel something different when you look at a black face, compared to when you look at a white one.”
Kayden didn’t have an answer to that. It was his fault, really. The high school baseball player she’d had a crush on when she’d been in middle school had wound up being the same person that first approached her when she started going out in costume. Blinded by his good looks and his way with words, she’d been swayed, convinced of his way of thinking. She’d tried to change her outlook since the divorce, but she had seen a great deal in her ten years as a member of his team. It was impossible to look at the city now and ignore the fact that too much of what made it an uglier place to live and raise a child in could be traced back to the same kinds of people. Sure, the whites had criminals too, but at least they were fucking civilized about it.
When no response was forthcoming, Max said, “That’s what I thought. However our methods differ, regardless of whether you’re willing to admit it out loud, I think we share a very similar perspective. My offer is this: Let me prove my methods work. Join my team, serve as my second in command for one more year. Only person you answer to is me, and I give you a team of your own. You can handpick your own squad from our prospective members and ex-members, though I can’t guarantee every person you name will come running…”
“Max…” Kayden shook her head.
“The final part of the deal is this. If you aren’t satisfied with how things went when your year is up, Empire Eighty-Eight is yours. Lock, stock and barrel, including my business, every employee, every asset, legitimate or otherwise. I become your second in command, and I follow your orders. You can make Empire Eighty-Eight into a humanitarian effort, sell the business, turn us all into superheroes. I don’t care. If I can’t impress you, then what I’m doing simply isn’t worth holding on to.”
That caught her attention. Years ago, Kayden probably would have snapped up an offer like this without a second thought. Being married to Max for eleven months, waking up to who he really was, it had given her perspective and caution. She considered for a few long moments, trying to figure out the angle. He was telling the truth, she knew. Whatever else Max was, he wouldn’t break his word on something like this.
“Is the business failing?” She asked. Was she getting a booby prize?
“Thriving. Promise.”
“What would you have me doing?”
“The same thing you did before. You’d be my heavy hitter. My enforcer. If I needed you to make an example of someone, you’d do it. Only difference between then and now is that my Empire is bigger. Better. You and I can make a greater impact.”
More blood on my hands. As the thought crossed her mind, she looked at her gloved hands. Pristine white cloth, stark in glare of the halogen lights. She knew what he was doing, had known when she decided to come. He found a person’s weakness, attacked it, turned it to his advantage. He’d known she was frustrated with her efforts as a solo agent, had probably had this conversation planned out days or weeks ago, playing it out in his head, having an answer ready for anything she could say. How could she compete with that, when she rarely looked beyond the next twenty-four hours? It was just how she was, how she thought.
Which was probably why they were so effective as a pair, she was forced to admit.
“So I ask you again, Kayden, do you want to spend your time failing to make a name for yourself on your own, or are you willing to join me in actually changing things? Come with me, and I guarantee you win one way or another.”
Her eyes lit up, and her hair began to turn white from the roots outward. In moments, she was her radiant alter ego. Purity.
As if in response, he picked up a letter opener and held it in front of his chest. Blades of metal began to branch out from it, each forking out into more. Slow at first, the network of metal swiftly encompassed his chest, then the rest of his body. Bars, blades, tubes, sheets of the metal found their place around him. With his power, she knew, he could bring metal to sprout from any solid surface around him, including the metal he had already created. As readily as he could bring thirty-foot spears of iron to erupt from the ground or walls, he created a finely worked suit of armor, then embellished it with blades and curling spikes. He finished it with an uneven crown of blades.
He extended a gauntlet, left it there for her to take. It was the smallest gesture, he never made a move where someone could refuse him, leave him hanging, and it meant the world to her, even as she suspected it was calculated for just that effect.
Forgive me, Aster, she thought. I’m doing this for you.
4.x (Interlude; Brutus)
A whistle. Brutus’ ears perk up. Already jumping off the bed as second whistle comes, just after the first. Two whistles like that means come. Master only asks for dogs to come to the front stairs if it is time for walkies!
Walkies are Brutus’ favorite thing!
Other dogs are bumping shoulders w
ith Brutus in hurry to get to Master. Turn corner too fast, claws scratch at floor to get grip. Fall a little. Judas hesitates, sniffs, but Angelica is ahead of Brutus now. Bad girl. Brutus snarls a little at Angelica, she backs away, drops behind. Brutus is top dog. Angelica should know that. Brutus arrives at Master first, the way it should be.
Brutus is top dog, but Master is alpha. Leader of this pack. Not leader of her people-pack but that is okay. She bends down and scratches all over Brutus’ neck and shoulders, deep, rough. Perfect scratches because they dig through Brutus’ thick fur. Tail is wagging so hard that back paws are slipping on floor. Fall over and turn belly up so Master can scratch it. She does and it is ecstasy.
Master is hurt and hurting. Brutus knows this. When she bends down, she is moving more slowly, she is making little sounds as she makes bigger movements like bending down and standing up. She smells like dried blood and stress and sweat in ways she usually doesn’t.
“Angelica, Judas, stay,” Master says, “Not taking you two.” Brutus doesn’t understand but Master sounds apologetic. Like when she was walking up stairs and accidentally kicked Brutus in chin because he was following too close behind her. She scratches each of them in turn. Not enthusiastic scratches. They are happy to be scratched but they aren’t coming for walkies. Brutus’ tail stops wagging. Is Brutus not coming for walkies?
Master picks up leash. “Brutus, good boy. Walkies?” Tail is wagging crazy hard again. Master tells Brutus to sit, Brutus sits. Is good boy. Master puts plastic bags in back pocket, puts on backpack. Backpack unusual. Master doesn’t usually bring backpack for walkies. Errand?
“We’re going on an errand, okay boy?” Master speaks. Brutus’ tail wags. Brutus was right! Errands always interesting. Brutus eagerly takes a few steps forward before remembering to be a good boy. Master doesn’t like it when Brutus pulls on leash. She puts on shoes, gets the keys that jangle, gets crinkly wrapper things she sometimes eats that Brutus can’t because Brutus is a dog. Crinkly wrapper things go in left pocket. She gets treats for dogs to put in right pocket, stops. Gives treats to Judas and Angelica. Treat for Brutus?
“Treats later,” Master says. ‘Later’ is familiar word but meaning unclear. Brutus feels crushing disappointment as treats go in Master’s right pocket. Jumps up a little to remind Master she forgot to give a treat. Master makes angry clucking noise and Brutus is sorry now. Tail down, ears down.
“Bitch, hold up,” speaks the scentless man. Scentless man makes Brutus nervous because he is big but he has no smell. But he is Master’s alpha so Master stops and listens.
“You’re going out?” the scentless man asks.
“Work,” Master says.
The scentless man waits for something, then speaks again, “Are you okay?”
“Fuckin’ peachy.” Brutus knows Master only says fuck word like that when she’s mad.
“I have a hard time believing that, to be honest. You were in pretty rough shape when I found you with Über and Leet’s henchmen, and those guys from the ABB.”
“I’m fine now,” Master tells him. She sounds angry. Brutus steps forward, ready to growl to add own voice to hers, but Master tugs on leash just a little and Brutus stays quiet.
“When I found you, one of them had you tied to the ceiling by your wrists and was using you as a punching bag.”
Master breaks eye contact. Brutus knows this is a sign that Master sees the scentless man as her alpha. When she speaks, she still sounds angry, “I fucked up. I was bored, restless, figured I’d walk Angelica and see if I could meet you guys where the money was. Someone recognized me and tailed me. I was stupid, I took my licks for it. I’m fine now, we have the money, all is well.”
The scentless man sighs. Sounds a little angry as he says, “It’s not… no, nevermind. No use getting into it. But what if someone recognizes you while you’re walking him?”
“I’ll fight back sooner, harder. Or are you going to tell me I can’t walk my dogs anymore?” All of a sudden, Master is tense. Brutus can see it in her legs, hear it in her voice, feel it in her grip on the leash.
“I wouldn’t do that,” the scentless man replies, his voice quiet, slightly strained “And you wouldn’t listen even if I did. Just… be careful.”
“I can go?”
“Go. Enjoy your walk, both of you.”
And the tension leaves Master. One small whistle and Brutus knows to follow. Down the stairs and out the door into the outside world. So many smells! So many sounds! So exciting!
But can’t get too excited. Brutus is good boy. Doesn’t pull on leash like Angelica still does. Master always makes angry clucking noise at Angelica on walkies.
Master is walking slower. Favoring one leg. Brutus is eager for walkies but doesn’t pull on leash even if Master is walking slower.
So many smells! Being in own territory is good but being on walkies is smelling whole world. Always new things, always new things to smell about old things. Smell this pee and know almost everything about the dog who peed. Bitch. Maybe in heat soon. Lives with kids. Pee smells like stress and eating too much grass and sleeping too much and being a fat dog.
Smell that poo to know about dog who pooed. Hungry dog. Hungry dog’s master probably hungry too. Many like that here. Not like that in Brutus’ old home. No people or dogs there were hungry. But Brutus remembers being unhappy. Master was always ignoring Brutus. Leave Brutus in basement alone all day until Brutus stop bad man who came in basement window. Is okay now. Brutus is happy now with new master.
Smell that pee. Human pee. Not as interesting. Master whistles to remind Brutus to keep up. No more sniffing for now.
“Brutus, sit, stay,” Master orders. Brutus sits and stays while Master stands beside him. Is good boy. Gets scratched by Master. Little female human is walking up to Brutus. Smaller than Brutus. Pats at Brutus, pokes. One poke in eye. Brutus’ ears down, head down, tail between legs. Not good scratches. Little human laughs. Poke again in Brutus’ side.
Brutus looks up at Master. Pleading. Master not saying anything so Brutus stays while being poked. Little human grabbing Brutus’ fur on side and pulling too hard. Like Angelica when Angelica was new to Master’s pack, biting and pulling and making Brutus bleed. Bad memory. Growl starts in Brutus’ throat.
“No, Brutus, off,” Master orders. Brutus lowers head. No more growling. Still being poked. Still being pulled at.
Big female human that smells like the little human arrives. Is walking fast. Big female stops and laughs at Brutus and little human.
“Aren’t they cute?” Another laugh.
Master doesn’t laugh.
“Well, kids will be kids.”
Master speaks, her voice even but her body language is angry, “Watch your fucking child.” Brutus knows watch is order for Brutus to sit and stay and bark if anyone comes… but Master is talking to big female and not giving order to Brutus. Other word Brutus knows is fucking which means Master is mad but Brutus isn’t the one she’s saying fucking to so it is okay.
Brutus thinks maybe it’s okay to growl now because Master said fucking so he growls. Smells fear from little human and big female. Master doesn’t say no so it was okay for Brutus to growl.
Big female laughs but laugh sounds different than before, shrill. Waves her hand. Bends down to pick up little human.
“Brutus, guard,” Master orders. Brutus quickly looks at Master and Master is pointing at little human so Brutus moves between little human and big female and growls at big female. Big female backs away. Brutus smells lots of fear now. Smells sweat and stress and hears little noises of worry and fear from both the big female and little human.
Big female steps to one side and Brutus moves to stay between her and little human. She bends down again and Brutus growls, snaps at her fingers. Is good boy.
Big female talks to Master, “Please. She was just doing what kids do. She thinks all dogs are cuddly.” Her voice is submissive, sounding like more worry and fear.
“Brutus
, mouth.” Brutus looks where Master is pointing and Master is pointing at little human. Brutus obeys by grabbing little human’s arm and holding it in his mouth. Is good boy. Little human howls and tries to pull away but Brutus closes mouth a little each time and little human soon understands that arm is staying in Brutus’ mouth.
Then Master tells big female, “He’s an abused dog, you know. Before I owned him, he was mistreated. Until he hurt someone so badly they needed amputation. I rescued him before he was put down. And you just let your kid walk up to him and start clawing at him. Do you understand what could have happened? That he could have killed or maimed your fucking mouthbreather of a child?”
Brutus only knows his own name and word kill. Other words don’t mean anything to Brutus. Kill is order to attack and not stop until that thing isn’t moving anymore. Master only gives Brutus and Judas and Angelica order to kill with squirrels and racoons and once a horse. Big female is on knees now and fear smell is all Brutus can smell right now. Is good to be lower than Master and showing submission. Big woman is saying things but Brutus can’t understand because she is talking and not stopping.
“Brutus, off. Come,” Master says and Brutus lets go of arm and walks to Master’s side. Little human still howling.
Then Master tells big female same thing as before: “Watch your fucking child.” Walkies begin again. Get scratched. Master says Brutus is good boy and Brutus is happy. Tail wagging.
Is long walkies before Brutus and Master stop at a place that smells like blood and dog fear and dog rage and pee and poop. Master knocks on door. Man who opens door smells like blood.
Master and man talk for a while, and Brutus waits because Brutus is good boy. Not paying attention to what they’re saying because of smells. Bad smells. Sounds of dogs yelping and barking from inside the door. Then Master says “Stay” and man starts touching Brutus. Touches like vet touches, not like Master scratching. Feeling each part of Brutus, fingers deep in fur to massage, check. Hands on Brutus’ private parts. Says things that sound negative, shakes head. Master talks some more. Man stands and shakes her hand.
Worm Page 35
