by Raine, H. J.
“Mm,”Lucianhummed, thoughtful.
“Always seemed like too much darkness to call upon,”Clark said, quietlypoetic.
“Better the enemy we can control to be our street spy than the ones without leashes.” Lucian chewed the inside of his cheek. “What do we actually know of Mr. Fawkes? That’s not just rumor and hearsay.”
Clark laughed, slightly manic, and waved his hands. “That’s the bitch of it all. The guy’s as good as I amat hiding in plain sight. Fucking infuriating.” Clark’s tone indicated a kind of respect, and Lucian paid closer attention. A puzzle in Clark’s world was an intriguing power, indeed.
“I know he owns a chain of grocery stores, little things that carry mostly foreign foods,” Clark said. “Locations in Chinatown, in the Korean district, the Russian market. All very obviously placed and all very obviouslyfronts for other ventures.”
“Doesn’t he have a small store in the Fashion District, too? That tea shop?”
“Which opened three months after my bar,” Clark deadpanned. “Coincidence? I think not.”
“So he’s keepinganeye onus, too. Interesting.”
“I thought initially that it was a way to keep tabs on us and report to Hendrick, but now I’mnot so sure.”
“My father knows of him,” Lucian said quietly. For a heartbeat, he was thirteen and standing outside the door to his father’s home office. Hendrick was speaking low and level to someone who kept weeping. If I have to call in favors to Fawkes, I still have a few I cancash. And we don’t want that, do we?
It wasn’t until later that Lucian realized his father didn’t say, “Fox” but “Fawkes.” Like the man who had tried to blow up the British Parliament. An apt cognomenifever there was one.
“Knows of him,” Clark agreed. “Sometimes may eventap himfor information, muchlike I do for you, but Kris’ sphere of influence is usually outside your father’s jurisdiction.”
“Explain,” Lucian commanded, smoothing a palm down one arm like the memories were sticking to his shirt, and he had to slingthemaway.
“In the hierarchy ofcorruption, your father operates at the top of the local level,” Clark answered, gesticulating with graduated, progressively lower flat circles of his hands. “The city, the state, drugs and favors to support a regional power base. A crook, but more of an opportunist who likes having some sway in how people above himget into office. He’s never made any move to go beyond that because, well...” Clark grinned. “He’s not that smart. Or he’s smart enough to know whenhe’d get inover his bald head.”
“Indeed,”Lucianencouraged.
“We operate in a connecting circle to Hendrick, but a level down and away from him. Work with the cops whentheyruninto a wallofbullshit, tryto be the divider of those seas, and make things harder for Daddy Dearest.”
“While not being obvious in our pursuits,” Lucian said.
Clark nodded. “It’s key, yes. Hendrick’s getting old and tired, and he still harbors hope that if his son keeps playing in the muck, eventually you’ll dive in and seek bottom.”
“It keeps the Christmas cards civil, at least.”
“For the time being,”Clark quipped. “Kris operates at the bottomof the pile, and most of his resources are foreign. He stays off our radar because despite being neck deep in blood and dirty money, he’s also the bogeyman that keeps the lowlifes in his sector living up to the promises theymake.”
“A real entrepreneur of back alley deals, hm?” Lucianmused.
“I’m sure we could all sit down and have a lovely pot of tea and a nice chat about the benefits of vigilantism.”
“I’ll have Melody mark it on my calendar,” Lucian said in jest, considering. “So this man is making motions to want to playfor our team. Why?”
Clark shrugged. “I have no idea. But he is, and I have reason to believe he might actually know somethingofrealuse for this particular case.”
“Oh?”
Clark leveled his calculated focus on Lucian. “One ofFawkes’ areas ofexpertise is the skintrade.”
The pieces fellinto place for Lucian, assembled in a diagramforming the shapes of dead girls in ditches and Shea’s haunted eyes. “And if anyone would know anythingabout a stringofmurdered hookers...”
“Precisely.”
Lucian stood up, crossed to the coffee maker, and took his time pouring two mugs full. He put an obscene amount of cream and sugar in Clark’s and added nothing to his own before returning to the desk and handing Clark a cup. “And you don’t know what’s real about the manas opposed to fiction?”
Clark sipped the coffee with a happy noise entirely out of place for the conversation. It made Lucian smile. “The guy has murdered his own family, lived all over Europe, is ex-CIA, was British special forces, is an undercover cop, was adopted by a Chinese family whose daughter was sold into prostitution, and now Kris makes his living screwing pimps with baseball bats before he cuts their throats.” Clark chuckled. “I sort of hope that last one’s true.”
“The man has more rumor around him than you do.”
“I’msure we’re goingto be just the best offriends,” Clark agreed witha sneer.
Lucian brought the mug to his mouth without actually drinking the coffee. “I see why he’s a last resort. Completely untrustworthy. But if he wishes to endear himselfto us...”
“Then the fastest way would be information about a case we cannot make heads nor tails of, yes. Besides, I have to admit.” Clark glanced at Lucian, looking sheepish. “I’mfuckingdyingofcuriosity.”
Lucian chuckled. “Of course you are. I’m not opposed to broadening our twilight interests and network.”
“Then?”
“Set it up,” Lucian said, decisive with the path to possible insight clear. “We’ll meet at your bar. It’s public and the most neutral ground we’ve got. I’m not about to invite Kris fucking Fawkes to the Gray Building, the Benevolent Fund headquarters, or the clubs. If Father caught wind of that, I’d hear about it, and takinghimto Break would be secure, but--”
“It’d be an obvious symbol of acceptance before we evenhear his offer,”Clark finished.
“Tell him to bring what he’s got that we’d find interesting. I don’t want to bother with anything less thanhis best gambit.”
“Understood, sir.”
“And have Tim on the premises,” Lucian added. “I’ll bring Aaron and Cale. A small show of force to someone like Kris will indicate we’re serious and tell him that we understand he’s formidable and not to be trusted.”
“I’ll make it so, captain,” Clark said, finishing the coffee.
“Thank you,” Lucian said, standing to shake Clark’s hand. “Oh, and Shea’s at home today and workingat the schooltomorrow.”
Clark grinned. “I’ll subtly increase the surveillance I’ve alreadygot onyour boy, sir.”
“Youhave mygratitude,”Luciansaid, resolutelynot sighing in the relief he felt, though Clark’s knowing look said Lucianwas entirelytransparent.
“When you’re done with the IT guy, do me a favor and give me the go-ahead to talk to the accounting candidate?” Clark added, backing toward the door. “Ryuu’s handling the books for the clubs in the interim, and God help us...”
“Consider this my green light. Now, if you’ll excuse me...?”
“I’m summarily dismissed, sir, I get it.” Clark bowed smartly with an impressive click of his tennis shoes and left.
Lucian collapsed into the chair, head on the blotter. He was exhausted and exhilarated all at once, and he sternlytalked himselfout ofbailingonhis meeting, going to Shea’s cabin, and curling up in Shea’s arms, just to know Shea was safe, solid, and... his.
“My Shea...” Lucian whispered, trembling with the intensity of ownership and, Lucian admitted, love. The kind oflove that made Lucian meet with nightmares and move mountains of filth to avenge Shea’s name and keep the manprotected.
“Yes, MyPrince.”
Lucian cleared his throat, drained his coffee, and watched
the door, waiting.
***
Clark’s office chair creaked when Lucian leaned back, and he jerked upright when it felt like the thing was going to break in half with his weight. With an irritated snort, Lucian straightened his tie and black suit jacket, crossing his legs under the battered desk. He shrugged in the shoulder holster that ruined the line of the cloth but kept his Colt at the ready, and his knee nudged the metal pivot-rack that held the Sig .357 on its side, aimingat the emptyseats across fromhim.
Lucian might fuss at Clark for a variety of reasons, but beingunprepared was never one ofthem.
The bar, Glow, was closed, the hour late or very early, depending on one’s view, and all the staff had been dismissed before Lucian, Aaron, and Cale had shown up at Glow’s rear entrance an hour before Kris Fawkes was to arrive. Tim and Clark were already there, and were now waiting in the alleyway, wellarmed, shrouded in Ranger gear, and content to sit out the duration of the morning should Kris not actually appear. At least it wasn’t snowing.
Aaron and Cale were inside, one at the bolted door that led into the rest of the bar’s interior and one at the door to Clark’s office, which was just offthe kitchen. It had beena storage roomina previous life, and afforded just enough room for two visitor chairs, the desk, and the broken piece of rolling, badly-upholstered shit that Clark hung on to, ostensibly because it was comfortable. The cork board to Lucian’s right was covered in allkinds ofpieces ofpaper, no smallamount of them sketches done by Clark’s employee, Jeffery. Lucian amused himself by studying the art; the boy was quite talented, really, particularlywithmale anatomy.
At precisely one minute past two a.m., the service entrance opened. Clark and Tim marched a third man inside the spotless kitchen, and Aaron and Cale stood straighter.
“Head on in, Mr. Fawkes,” Clark said, friendly, while Tim threw the bar across the heavy, steel door. “Hands where I cansee them, ifyoudon’t mind.”
Kris Fawkes said nothing, gloved fingers spread to either of his sides. Lucian had no doubt Clark and Tim had frisked the man thoroughly. Kris’ long, wool peacoat was undone, its collar turned up in a way that made Lucian sigh. Kris was about Clark’s height, slightly over six feet, and broad. He was pale, face clean-shaven but freshly and cruelly so, red dots speckling his throat. He had a strong jaw, thin, set mouth, and he kept his eyes on the kitchen floor. He could be a thug, a businessman, a perfectly nondescript nobody on the street you’d pass every day without noticing. He wore a black skull cap, heavy boots, dark slacks, and walked through the exterior room and into the office with a determination that Lucian recognized and respected.
Standing, Lucian waited until Clark stepped inside and stood in the open doorway. Cale held position at the bar’s door, Aaron at the service entrance, and Tim casually leaned against a counter, facing Clark’s back. All the men in position, Lucian took a second to study the dark circles under Kris’ eyes, the sunken cheeks, the stoop of the shoulders. Lucian’s instincts were all awake and attuned, analyzing the man known for brutality and seeing not only the demon that lurked in the darkness, but also the exhaustion, the concession. Across from him was a man who should be hidden beneath layers of masks, misdirections, threats, and calculations, and instead was laid bare and obviously uncaringofit.
Lucian made note and held out a hand that was immediately studied by Clark’s all-seeing gaze. “Good evening, Mr. Fawkes. Lucian Gray. Your reputation precedes you.”
“So I see.” Hazel eyes flickered from man to man, and the tired voice held the faintest clip of a British accent. Kris took Lucian’s hand and clasped it briefly. “You’ve afforded me quite the reception, Mr. Gray. I stand at your convenience, as I stand at all.”
Some piece of Lucian purred at Kris’ oddly poetic inflection, and Clark shifted minutely. Lucian didn’t need to look to see the warning glare or actually have Clark speak to hear the, “It’s not hard to sound like an educated fop. Don’t let it slip bythe defenses, sir.”
“Byallmeans, sit at myconvenience, ifyouplease,” Lucian said, taking his place behind the desk as Kris followed suit to sink into the chair furthest from Clark. “With someone such as yourself dropping in for a meeting, I felt it appropriate to greet you in a suitable fashion. I’m sure you understand. Besides, my men make the most pleasant company when they’re inspired to pretend they’re more human than mere tools of destruction, and I don’t enjoywaitinginsolitude.”
The grin that greeted the salvo showed teeth and what Lucian translated as honest appreciation. Kris shifted inthe chair. “Most humane ofyou, I’msure.”He leaned toward Lucian. “And, dear sir, I’d be most honored if you’d grace me with what miracle occurred that allowed me to pass your guard dog without a mauling, and exactly what it is you want to know about Miranda.”
Lucian held Kris’gaze and didn’t waver despite the temptation to arch an eyebrow. Lucian knew that the message Clark had sent through channels to reach Kris had included Miranda’s working name, not her real name, and the way Kris spoke the syllables implied possessive familiarity, or at least something more than mere occupational interest. Guts screaming that something was amiss and brain putting pieces together at the speed of recalculation, Lucian finally dipped his chin in acknowledgement. “A certain amount of directness is refreshing, Mr. Fawkes, my thanks. Allow me to supply you the same courtesy. Miranda is the latest victim in a string of unfortunate deaths into which my people are investigating as the authorities are being, shall we say, less than helpful for causes I understand but do not commend.”
“An’ why the bloody fuck d’ya give a shite ‘bout whores weighted indeep waters?”The forcefulspew of expressive words didn’t distract Lucianenoughto avoid noticing that Kris’ gloved hands shook until they clenched into fists. Clark’s weight pitched forward onto the balls of his feet, and Lucian held up a single finger in caution. Lucianliked the emotion. Luciancould use it.
“It’s very simple, Mr. Fawkes,” Lucian said levelly to Kris’ flashing eyes. “One of my earliest lovers was a member of the world’s oldest profession, and often subjected to abuse at the hands of that system.” Lucian ignored Clark’s incredulous expression, subtle though it was, and smiled without mirth. “In my efforts to shut down Haze, which operates outside the realm of my tolerance, I discovered a cluster of women whom no one cared to give a proper burial, much less dig into the muck fromwhich they were laid to lie fallow. And I see you’re a man who can appreciate such... personal conviction?”
Kris watched Clark, and Lucian didn’t mind what Kris could surmise. Let the mantake what he would, so long as it served Lucian’s goals. One of Kris’ hands uncurled on the desk to rest there, trembling, before Kris’ gaze returned to Lucian. “Yes. You’ve read me aright. Expected to come inhere and get well-murdered for my trouble, but if you’ll bring down those that worked the hurting and killing, I’m your man ‘til the dying.”
“I will not accede to the death of those working in my honor,” Lucian said, softer and pleased that Kris seemed ready to pledge an oath on Lucian’s proverbial sword. “In fact, it’d irritate me. Best not that such a thing happen. So, to that end, why don’t you arm us with what you know of those doing said hurting and killing?”
Kris blinked and straightened in his chair. “You’ve not got the whole story? I thought that was why your man came to get me. She wasn’t supposed to...” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath.
The overwhelming humanity in the moment made Lucianhuma note ofaffectionate encouragement. Clark sighed, in defeat, Lucian suspected, and he made mental note to buy Clark a stiff drink in both apology and thanks. “At your leisure,”Luciansaid to Kris.
Eyes opened but didn’t look at Lucian, they stared somewhere into the distance. “It all began five years ago with a group of business men, corrupt men who were looking to go into the underground with each others’ help, all connected by reputation and politics. Together, they would be formidable in the world movements of economics and government, and their locations spanned
the EU, old Russia, and Pacific Asia. The welcoming arms of the United States and one of her largest cities lured themallhere.
“They each controlled interests of one kind or another in our fair city, which is how I caught wind of themand their purpose. They needed to prove that they were bad enough to be trusted by each other, which, as you can well understand, is a tricky proposition. Most of those on my side of the fence find trust a difficult thing, especially with someone that’s as like to stab you in the back as make a profit on you. There’s a number of ways to get around that, but one of the most common is sharing blackmail information. You have dirt on me, and I have dirt on you, so if either of us are takendownthe other goes as well. Make sense?”
Luciansat forward, noddingwhile finally-- finally-the puzzle started to take shape, and it was, somewhat frighteningly, familiar. “So some enterprising crook spots a club that has its hooks in the meat of impropriety. Perhaps as a way to reward, maybe as a place to conduct business, but most certainly an opportunity to cull for ways and means to create illicit records.”
“Spot on,” Kris said, eyes lighting. “If you’re not bad enough to strike a helpless woman, then you’ve got no guts for what these wankers go for, see? So the pure shite of it is that they went a leap and a bound further into a nightmare scale for hazing.” Thin lips twisted. “The name’s too soddin’ apropos. They’ve gulled, trained, and coerced paid girls and two men into being the victims, and these good guys freakin’ filmeachother doingthe torture.”
Clark’s look of disgust echoed what Lucian felt but didn’t express. Lucian clasped his hands, brought them to his mouth, thinking. “That there’s a standard hazing procedure explains the consistency of the injuries...” He trailed off, breath taken by brilliant flashes of Shea’s parted lips, the taste of Shea’s skin under Lucian’s tongue, the questions...
“CanI be as loud as I like?”
Lucian clenched teeth to clear his head. “And useful to know the depth of influence and the level of skill at which these people operate. The web is larger than we suspected. It explains the multiple dead ends and potentialperpetrators.”
