Mr. Delany launched into a lengthy preamble about the building, covering the construction date (ground broken in 2011, opened earlier this year), the height (eighty floors, one of the taller buildings in the city), and the types who've bought apartments there (the elite of the elite).
But, before Mr. Delany could go on for too long, Mr. Jane held up a palm of slim fingers, the index finger adorned with a silver ring studded with a brilliant diamond.
"I appreciate the explanation, but details aren't necessary; we've done all of the research that we need to do."
Mr. Delany sat back in his seat and folded his hands across his belly. "Suit yourself."
"I'm sure your lovely assistant has done a very thorough job, if what we've seen so far is any indication."
Jo smiled and nodded, though her mind was on Mr. Jane's strange voice; it was light and airy and carried the sense that his words might flow into a melody any moment. And, the accent was strange; she couldn't quite place it; it seemed to be some curious blend of eastern European and British.
"But, we're simply here to make an offer, an offer that I believe you'll find to be most generous."
"Right down to brass tacks," said Mr. Delany. "I like that. But, I should let you know that the current holders of the buildings aren't going to be hearing much in the way of negotiations. You know how the Japanese are."
"Hmm?" asked Mr. Jane, unsure of what he meant.
"You know, ah, very rigid" said Mr. Delaney.
He stiffened his body and affected a stern, flat-mouthed expression.
"Samurai code and all that."
"Yes, quite," said Mr. Jane.
Ugh, thought Jo. She scanned the silent three for any hint on how they felt about the joke, but they were still wearing that same sly grin.
"Anyway, here's our offer," said Mr. Jane, withdrawing a thick piece of paper from his bag along with an elegant black pen.
Looking down, he scribbled a figure onto the paper, made a crisp fold down the middle, and handed it to the member of his group who was closest to Mr. Delany, one of the two women with faces of severe beauty. The woman then handed the paper to Mr. Delany, who eagerly opened it.
But, his expression shifted quickly from one of anticipation to that of stark disappointment.
"This . . . this is seven-hundred-million less than the asking price," he said.
"Correct, but the amount offered would be in cash. One single wire transfer from our bank to theirs. Done and done."
Mr. Delany shook his head. "No way. No way will they go for this."
Mr. Jane raised a single eyebrow. "I would think that avoiding the hassle of other forms of . . . less liquid payments would have appeal."
"Listen," said Mr. Delany, disappointment lacing his voice, "I don't know how they do things . . . wherever you're from, but this just won't fly here in the city. You can't just hack nearly twenty percent off the price out of convenience."
"That's . . . the most we'll be able to offer," said Mr. Jane, his voice somewhat crestfallen.
"Then, that's no good. I can't even go to the owners with an offer like this."
"Surely," said Mr. Jane. "You could make them aware of the benefits of paying such a reduced price."
"No go," said Mr. Delany. "They'll see the lower number and get mad that I even called them."
Jo felt uncomfortable; the tension seemed to be increasing in the room by the moment.
Mr. Jane turned from the table and looked out of the window. After several moments, he turned back to face Mr. Delany.
"How about this–you talk them into this price, doing whatever it takes. Tell them there's been a real estate devaluation. They'll trust you."
"Whoa, whoa; you want me to lie to them?"
"I'm suggesting you simply give them . . . inaccurate information. We'd be pleased to make it worth your while. Say, to the tune of ten million dollars? And, maybe a little something for your assistant's silence as well?"
A brief moment of consideration flashed over Mr. Delany's face, and Jo couldn't blame him–ten million was no small amount.
"Not a chance. I'm not gonna risk my professional reputation for some money. I'd be sunk in this town if I ever got found out."
"But, you'd be making some very powerful allies," said Mr. Jane.
"What, allies who'd bilk me out of money the first chance they got?"
He stood up, his ample belly jiggling as he rose to his feet.
"I think we're done here," he said. "You all get going now, and I'll be nice enough not to tell anyone what kind of operation you weirdos are running."
Mr. Jane, realizing that he had no recourse, nodded to his group, who all rose from their seats.
"Very well. But, know this: we'll have that building, one way or another."
"Well, not through me you won't," said Mr. Delany.
With that, the group turned and left, the three members of the entourage each flashing one last sinister glance at Jo as they left.
Soon, it was just Mr. Delany in the office, silence and menace both lingering in the air.
CHAPTER 4
The fresh, floral smell of a recent rain drifted up and around Josephine, shrouding her in a swirling mist. Looking down, she saw that her feet were bare, the wild grass lying across her skin. Closing her eyes, she took in a long, slow draw into her lungs, the air around her brisk and clean.
Then, opening her eyes she saw that she was surrounded by nature. Tall, thick-trunked trees were around her, their height stretching into the sky, the sun above streaming down through the canopy of leaves, Jo's body dappled with clear light. A mild wind rustled the branches, a quiet breath that brought gooseflesh across her skin.
Where am I? she thought, realizing at once that she wasn't in New York. How did I get here?
Looking down, she saw that she was dressed in a simple, flowing lace dress of a mellow cream color, the fabric light and loose on her skin. She felt the weight of something on her head, and reaching up, she found that she was wearing a strange crown of braches and colorful spring flowers. Though she wondered where and how she came into possession of such a strange thing, the sight of it brought a wide smile to her face, and she placed it back on her head.
Not knowing what else to do, Jo walked forward at a slow, leisurely pace, enjoying the fresh air, the dew on her feet, and the feeling of being something small in the midst of such majestic nature. She walked for what seemed like minutes but passed in only a few seconds. She came upon a large, gnarled tree, the trunk thicker than any she'd seen before. Approaching it, she placed her hands on the rough bark, keeping her palms on it as she walked around its form, as though she were blind and feeling her way.
Then, when she finally moved around it, she gasped at what she saw. Instead of the green, verdant nature of the woods through which she'd been walking, the scene ahead was one of rot, decay, and black. Trees were toppled and broken into massive shards, the grass was dead and black, and insects could be seen swarming here and there on the various surfaces. Looking down, she saw that her bare feet were now sinking into the mud below and above the sun had somehow set, replaced by a looming moon that appeared to her like a great, wide-open eye.
Then, the low, mournful howling of wolves cut through the still of the night, the sound causing Jo's stomach to tighten with fear and her heart to beat like a drum.
She knew she had to run. Pulling her foot out of the sucking mud, she took a step forwards only for her foot to sink once again. She repeated the process over and over, but before she could get too far, the howling sounded again–closer this time. Jo tried to run, but the mud trapped her in place, now sucking her feet below the murky surface as though she were being pulled down.
Then she felt a presence.
Looking around, she saw eyes emerge through the dark, like pairs of glowing rubies. She made one more attempt to pull herself free but only succeeded in falling backward into the mud, the mud covering her dress, her flower crown falling backward, landing under her ju
st in time for her to fall on top of it with a wet crunch.
Shapes formed around the eyes, and before Jo could guess what sort of beings the fearsome eyes belonged to, wolves entered from the shroud, their teeth bared, and their paws tipped with razor-sharp claws; hunger, and anger in their eyes. They slinked through the mud with ease, the half-dozen beasts closing the distance between them and Jo. She struggled with all her might, but still sank further into the mire. Then, she closed her eyes, giving up, preparing for her fate. The breath of the wolves was now hot on her skin.
Then, before the wolves could set upon Jo, a new sound carried through the woods. Opening her eyes and looking back, she saw that a massive bear was behind her, standing on his hind legs, his tooth-filled mouth opened wide as he roared.
The wolves froze in place, their attention on the bear. Jo didn't know who this bear was, or why he was here, but she somehow sensed that he was here to protect her. As the wolves and the bear approached each other, all ready to fight to the bloody death, Jo awoke, springing up in her bed.
She scanned her room with frantic eyes, confirming that she was, in fact, in her home. Jo stayed like this for a time, feeling discombobulated and out of sorts from the strange dream. Then, her phone alarm went off, and she forced herself to get out of bed. But, as she prepared for the work day, the dream stayed with her. It lingered in her mind as she dressed, as she walked to the subway station, as she rode her train to work, and as she walked in through the main doors of the office.
"Hey!" said Amy, her chipper voice calling out to Jo and snapping her out of her reverie. "What's up?"
"Nothing," said Jo, her voice far away. "Just had a really, really weird dream."
"Oh," said Amy. "Anything cool?"
"Not really," said Jo, considering telling Amy but thinking better about it. "Just really vivid."
"Oh, I know exactly what you mean," she said, walking next to Jo as she made her way to her desk. "The other day I had this crazy dream where I was like, back at my house where I grew up, but, you know, it wasn't actually my house? Anyway…"
Amy went on like this as they crossed the office floor, the place as busy as ever. Once they reached Jo's desk, Amy's story came to a conclusion.
". . . and I think it's all about how I don't feel like I deserve the good stuff that happens to me, you know? Like I'm some kind of fraud?"
"Yeah, I totally know what you mean," said Jo, only paying half-attention to what Amy was saying.
Standing at Jo's desk, the two of them spotted four of their female coworkers standing near one of the windows looking into Mr. Delany's office. The girls were chatting in lively tones among themselves as they stole furtive glances into the office, hiding behind the opaque portions of the walls.
"What's going on in Mr. Delany's office?" asked Jo. "Did he slip some love potion number nine into the water cooler?"
"Ohmigod, did I really not say anything?" said Amy, her eyes going wide with excitement. "Kyle Thorne is in there!"
"Who?" asked Jo.
"Um, Kyle Thorne? Like, the hottest bachelor in the city? And, he's worth like two-hundred-million, I think. God, he's so fucking sexy."
Amy sighed and looked away dreamily.
"Um, I think that name sounds familiar. What's he doing here?"
"That's the thing," said Amy, “no one knows. He barely does in-person meetings unless he absolutely has to."
Jo considered possible reasons why a real estate agent like this man–if what Amy said about him was true–would be here for an unscheduled meeting like this.
It must be that meeting last night, she realized.
Jo watched as the girls continued to peek in and titter among themselves.
"Are they just going to stare into the office like that?" asked Jo, suppressing an eye-roll.
"Have you seen this guy?" asked Amy. "Fucking. Gorgeous. Dates models and actresses and shit. But, like, never for long."
Jo was a little intrigued but was more interested in getting her work day started. Not to mention, the meeting yesterday evening and the strange dream that followed were still lingering in her mind.
But, before she could consider it further, the door to the office opened. Mr. Delany poked his head out and cast an irritated glance at the girls gathered nearby.
"What exactly am I paying you ladies for, again?" he asked.
The girls exchanged eye-rolls before heading off, one of them taking a final look into the office, nearly swooning as she did.
"Jo, you're here; good," Mr. Delany said. "We've got an emergency meeting; grab your laptop and come in."
‘Lucky you’, Amy mouthed with a wink before heading off.
Jo snatched her laptop out of her bag and headed in, Mr. Delany holding the door for her as she entered. She was not ready, however, for the man she'd be meeting with.
‘Fucking. Gorgeous’, as Amy put it, didn't begin to describe Kyle Thorne. Tall, lean, dressed in a perfectly-tailored suit of a dark, sports jacket, a pair of trim pants, and stylish dress shoes, he looked as though he'd just strolled off the pages of GQ. His face was stunning, with dark, emerald eyes narrowed in playful scheming, a slim, but manly, nose, and lips that seemed sheened with sensuality. A head of thick, nearly-black hair slicked back in a tight sheen was atop his head. Jo could hardly believe she was seeing what she was seeing; he almost seemed too handsome for this Earth.
"There's the girl we've been waiting on," said Kyle, his voice low, resonant, and clear as he walked over to Jo with long, confident strides. "Kyle Thorne."
He extended his hand to Jo, and she took it, half expecting him to vanish into thin air like some kind of apparition; he just didn't seem real. He flashed her a sly, half-smile of playful deviousness, as though he were up to something.
"Jo," she said, barely able to form even the word.
"Jo," he said, as though trying to name on for size. "Pleasure."
Mr. Delany watched the introduction with impatience. He shoved his hand into his bowl of candy and crammed a handful into his mouth.
"Help yourself," he said, pushing the bowl towards Kyle as he returned to his seat.
"Thanks. I'm more of meat-and-potatoes kind of guy. Mostly meat."
Jo stood frozen, unsure of what to do with herself.
"Have a seat, Jo," said Mr. Delany, noticing Jo's odd behavior.
"Oh, OK, sure, thanks," said Jo quietly as she walked quickly to the seat next to Kyle and sat down, feeling his eyes on her as she moved.
"We ready?" asked Kyle.
Mr. Delany held up a hand in an "after you" gesture, his fingertips smeared with colorful candy residue.
"So, I understand you both had a meeting with a . . . strange group last night."
Mr. Delany's eyes went wide. "Yes; how did you know that?"
A half-smile formed on Kyle's face. "It's my job to know everything that goes on in this little industry of ours."
"Bunch of smug upstarts," Mr. Delany said, shaking his head. "Walked in here with hundreds of millions less than the asking price as an offer."
"Right," said Kyle, crossing his legs and bringing a finger up to his lips, Jo's eyes moving up and down his perfect face all the while. "That's the Bianchi group. They're tough negotiators, but I think they bit off a little more than they can chew with this particular purchase."
"I told them to leave," said Mr. Delany. "Can't believe they wasted my time like that."
"They offered you all liquid for the deal, correct?" asked Kyle.
"That's right," said Mr. Delany. "But far, far less than the asking price."
"And, how'd they react when you said no?"
Mr. Delany's mouth pursed; Jo could tell that he wasn't sure how much he should say next. Kyle watched Mr. Delany's demeanor change and leaned in close before speaking.
"You can trust me," said Kyle. "I've been following these assholes for a while."
Who is this guy? thought Jo. He's acting like a cop or something.
"They . . . didn't take it wel
l. I'd prefer not to say anything else," said Mr. Delany.
Kyle leaned back in his seat; Jo could sense that he knew he wasn't getting the whole story.
"They were like animals . . .," said Jo, the words blurting out of her mouth, her voice far away.
"What?!" asked Mr. Delany, his brow knitted in confusion.
Jo's eyes snapped to Kyle, and she saw that his expression was now one of intrigue.
"Animal, huh?" asked Kyle. "What do you mean?"
"They had . . . I don't know . . . a way about them. Just how they moved, how they talked, the way they looked at me."
Jo looked down and in front of herself as she spoke, images from her dream the previous night flashing into her mind.
"They looked at me like they were . . . predators, and I was the prey."
A moment of silence hung in the air, and when Jo's attention turned back to Kyle, she could see that he was very interested in what she was saying.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Thorne," said Mr. Delany. "She's normally not so . . . odd."
"It's fine," said Kyle, his gorgeous eyes locked onto Jo, as if trying to peer into her thoughts.
Another moment passed, and Jo suddenly felt very silly. Her face reddened and felt hot.
"Well, I won't take up any more of your time," said Kyle, rising from his seat and extending his hand to Mr. Delany, which he took.
"Here's my card. Let me know if you have any further contact with the Bianchis."
"Why the interest?" asked Mr. Delany, taking the card.
"I have some suspicions that they're up to some shady business. Just a hunch, but if they are, I'd like to expose them before they scam someone out of money, or worse."
"I see . . .," said Mr. Delany, measuring the words carefully.
"Been a pleasure," said Kyle, buttoning the top button of his stylish blazer and preparing to leave.
"Ah, Jo, see Mr. Thorne to the elevator," said Mr. Delany, reasserting himself.
Jo felt her face go even hotter.
"Um, of course," she said, bolting out of her seat with awkward speed.
Kyle snorted in amusement at this, his mouth twisting yet again into a smile that Jo couldn't help but stare at.
Shifter Wars Complete Series Page 3
