by August Li
I should’ve been perfectly content.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about Dante out there in the cold, his laser-pointer stare on the window just above us. He was counting on me, and for maybe the first time in my existence, that meant something to me.
I made a show of looking around. “This is an amazing apartment. It looks like a picture out of a book. You must have a good job. I bet you’re an important guy.”
He beamed. “I have a lot of influence. In fact…. Well, you probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
I already knew he was Sekhet-Aaru; I’d seen a gold money clip with their crossed-reed insignia on the counter in the bathroom. “Sounds serious. Are you, like, part of the government?”
He paused, probably considering how much to tell me. I was banking on his desire to impress me winning out over whatever secret oaths he’d taken, and I wasn’t disappointed. “People only think the government runs everything. But there’s a, I guess you’d call it a secret society of people who wield the real power, and they control the government. Several governments, in fact.”
I giggled. “Come on. You’re messing with me. That’s completely bonkers.”
“I know how it must sound—paranoid, nuts. But… I am one of these people, one of a very few who knows how the world really works… knows the real mysteries of power.”
Once again, he proceeded to tell me a lot of things I already knew. He had one part correct—if I hadn’t already known this shite was true, I never would’ve believed it. Nobody would, and that worked in their favor. Now that I had him in a talkative mood, I had to figure out a way to ask about Rosalind, one that wouldn’t be too obvious, because as insecure and needy as Brandt might be, the man wasn’t a fool.
He gathered me onto his chest and crossed his arms over my back, speaking into my hair. “Do you think I’m crazy?”
“It’s all kind of… James Bond,” I said, tracing my fingers down his arm. Beneath his layer of padding, Brandt had a good amount of muscle. “Do you… these people do that kind of secret-agent stuff?”
“What kind of stuff?”
“I don’t know. It sounds like you can operate outside the law. Can you kidnap people?”
He stiffened beneath me. Damn. I’d taken it too far. It wasn’t in my nature to be deceptive, wasn’t anything I’d ever had to do. “Why would we do that?”
“Right,” I said, shifting so I could trace my thumb around his nipple. “Even secret societies can’t pull off that kind of thing, not without getting caught. Nobody’s that important.”
“Oh, we could if we wanted to.”
“You’re just teasing me now,” I challenged. I sat up and yawned, reaching for my shirt that was draped over the arm of the couch.
Nails scraped lightly down my back. “I’ll pay double if you stay the night.”
“I don’t know. I feel like you’re making fun of me.”
“No.” He stood and went into the kitchen to draw water from the refrigerator door. “Jesus, no. It’s just that I’m not supposed to talk about it. But I… I have done something like that. Recently.”
This was it! I had to play this just right. I went to stand behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “What, personally? That’s kind of exciting. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man who could get away with kidnapping someone. Other people… they’d be too scared. They wouldn’t know how to do it.” I trailed my hand down his belly and grazed the semi he was sporting. “Can you tell me?”
“Will you stay the night?”
I laughed, making sure the hot, wet air puffed against his bare shoulder. “Depends how good of a story it is.”
“Well, I’m afraid I wouldn’t really call it kidnapping. More of a rescue. There was this little girl, and she was living in deplorable conditions. A drug addict for a mother, a vicious criminal for a brother….”
By the time he finished a tale that made him sound like a knight in shining armor, we’d migrated back to the sofa with some pita chips, vegetables, and hummus he’d taken from the fridge.
“What happened to the little girl?” I asked. “Is she all right?”
“Oh, of course she is. We aren’t the kind of people who would harm a child.”
Sure, just the poor bastard driving the car…. “Where is she?”
“She’s with our organization. One of our high-ranking members is going to raise her, give her a chance at a good life. She’ll have real power, and—and you look like you don’t believe me. Again.”
I wiped some hummus off the corner of his mouth with my finger. “I’m trying to keep an open mind.”
“What if I could show you?”
“How?”
“There’s a party tomorrow night. People from my organization, from all over the world, will be there. It’s a sort of meeting we hold every year. I was actually planning to ask you anyway. Have you ever been to the Poconos?”
’Course I had. “No! It’s pretty fancy, isn’t it?”
“You will be in awe.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “So you’ll come? I’ll pay, of course. And if you have a friend you can bring along, it’ll mean a nice tip for both of you. Maybe Jamie?”
“Hmm. I know someone you might like even better. Do you like Asian guys?”
“If they’re as hot as you.”
“If I’m going to a fancy party tomorrow, I should go. I’ll need to get ready.”
He groaned and tugged me over so I was straddling his lap. “Can’t you stay just a little longer?”
Aw, hell. One more couldn’t hurt.
Afterwards, I found Dante sitting on the back porch steps, leaning his head on a post, asleep. Two cats curled in his lap, and six or seven others huddled around him like they were trying to keep him warm. Brilliant little creatures. It broke my heart a little to see Charlene wasn’t among them, and I hoped she was all right. I knew it had been a bad idea to send her off on her own.
But I had good news. So good, I took a risk and touched Dante’s cheek to wake him. He flinched and opened his eyes, and I couldn’t help my wide grin.
“I did it, mate. I found her.”
He got to his feet, cats scattering. “Let’s go.”
I shushed him. “I’ve already got a plan to get us to where she is. Where’s Emrys?”
“Jet picked him up. Said they were going to a hotel. Couldn’t take the cold, I guess. He texted me the address and room number.”
“But you stayed?”
“Didn’t want to lose you,” he muttered.
“Let’s go,” I said. “I might as well fill everybody in at once.”
“But Ros! We should go to her now.”
I shook my head. “No. We’re going to need to prepare.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“WHAT’S THE lad doing now, turning tricks? Selling his arse?”
For some reason Moirin’s observation made me angry, and I wanted to shout at her, ask her how she could even suggest something like that. But after I realized stress and exhaustion were warring against my better judgment, I had to admit her assessment made at least some sense.
As we’d waited in a nondescript sedan, black and high-end enough to look like it belonged in this neighborhood, we’d seen Dante and another man enter the big house on the cul-de-sac called Greenbrier. I hadn’t gotten a good look at the other man when he entered through the front door, while Dante, presumably, used the back entrance. But I had seen him clearly when the two of them came around the side of the building: small, well-dressed, not exactly effeminate but prettier than average.
They walked up the block together, and Moirin waited until they made it a few hundred yards from our location before she started the engine, leaving the headlights dark. Three and a half blocks away, Dante and the blond man got into the same dilapidated pickup I’d seen in the mountains.
Moirin accelerated to keep up with them as they pulled onto the quiet street, but I held up a hand. “Don’t let them know we’re following them. R
emember, that was the whole reason we put the tracking device on the new gun I gave Dante. We can use it to find them if we have to.”
She snorted. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve done this kind of thing a time or two before, my fine friend. And as I haven’t been asking the questions I should, the kinds of questions it would be prudent for me to ask in a situation such as this, I’d think you’d be shutting up and thanking me. Besides, it was my contact what whipped up that little bauble—and it didn’t come cheap.”
“You’re right,” I conceded. “I do appreciate your help. And your discretion.”
“If it turns out the boy’s a snitch, I’ll gut him meself.”
“I’ve assured you that isn’t the case. I would have taken care of it if it was.”
“Aye, and I trust you. Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“There’s no one I would rather have by my side,” I told her. “We’ve been through a lot together, and neither of us would be where we are today without the other.”
She chuckled. “And people say it’s the Irish who have the gilded tongues. But you’re right, and if there’s some… boon to be had at the end of all this, I trust you to be sharing.”
“If we play this right, the benefits could be beyond anything we’ve ever imagined.”
My phone rang, and I reached into my pocket to answer it, because no matter how difficult it was for me to relinquish control, I did trust Moirin. “Devereux.”
“Evening, boss. Just checking in about that job you might need doing.”
Amazingly, I had almost forgotten. Ghost guns from Puerto Rico, those assembled by craftsmen in hidden workshops in the jungle, untraceable and often superior to what manufacturers offered, were one of our most lucrative and sought-after products. They were the future, and one day I hoped to set up workshops here. But until that became possible, I had to smuggle them in. They came by shipping crate to the Delaware River Port Authority, and retrieving them and overseeing them loaded into a tractor trailer was one of the few tasks I liked to supervise personally. I’d bribed the necessary officials; that wasn’t the problem. Hijacking was always a threat, especially with the issues we’d been having with the White Liberation Front. But like Moirin, Devereux was trustworthy. He had far less to gain by betraying me than by remaining loyal. I rarely let my emotions reign over logic, but something deep inside me needed to know what was going on with Dante. “You have a good crew?”
His deep, rich laughter echoed in my ears. “You even need to ask? We have the best. We will get it done, and that I guarantee.”
“All right, then. Be cautious. We might be being watched.”
“Bien sûr. You know it, boss.”
“Très bien. Call me when it’s done.”
“That I will do. You enjoy your evening, now.”
I disconnected the call as we pulled up to the downtown Philadelphia Hotel Palomar. I turned to Moirin. “Are you sure?”
“GPS leads here,” she answered. “Posh place.”
“It is.”
“Valet parking in a private garage,” she said. “What do you want to do?”
Money wasn’t a problem, and I’d taken care to make sure the car couldn’t be connected with me. “Let’s park. The bar is still open. We’ll go there.”
“Long as you buy me a drink.”
I loved the Palomar, a fully restored art deco building enhanced with local art, and normally I would be absorbed in noticing details I’d missed on other visits, but tonight I had too much on my mind, and I had to focus to follow Moirin to the restaurant and bar. She ordered a Harp and some snacks—a platter of mussels and the deviled crabs. I nodded to the bartender and said I would have the same.
In addition to the hotel’s guests, lots of locals came to Square 1682 for dinner. I’d done so myself, and I liked their take on classic dishes. Tonight I wasn’t hungry. Between worrying about my shipping container and imagining what Dante could possibly be doing in the guestroom of an expensive hotel, I knew I was in for a long night of acid reflux.
With that thought in mind, I pushed my beer back at the bartender when she set it on a napkin. “I apologize, but I’ve changed my mind. I think I’d rather have a merlot.”
“No problem,” she said with a smile. “Anything else I can get for you?”
“No, thanks.” I picked up a slice of baguette and nibbled on the edge, hoping it would soak up some of the acid churning in my stomach. Unfortunately, it couldn’t remedy the real source of my distress: the dark thoughts worming their way into my mind. I wasn’t normally one to be maudlin, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding, and it led me to imagine every possible disaster that could befall me. I could only remember one other time in my life when I’d experienced such dread—the night the man came to our door to tell us my brother had been killed in the line of duty. That was the first time my world had collapsed; the day in the woods had been the second.
I took another sip of my wine, but it was bitter. I was being foolish. I was not a clairvoyant; I didn’t even believe in such things. At least I hadn’t before.
Just when I thought my night couldn’t get more stressful, my phone chirped with a call from Devereux… on FaceTime. That was unusual to say the least, and I hurried out of the bar and through the lobby as I answered. As soon as I made it through the gilded glass doors of the entryway, I ducked around the side of the tall, narrow building. My blood seemed to stop flowing and turn thick and gritty in my veins when I looked down at my screen.
Instead of Devereux, a white man with a shaved head stared back at me. He had a black bandana tied around the lower part of his face, but it didn’t cover the faded swastika tattooed over his left temple. From the crinkle of his eyes, I knew he was smiling.
“Well, well, well. If it ain’t the bean-eating asshole who thought he was too good to do business with us. I bet you’ve changed your mind now. Ain’t that right, Pedro?”
“How did you get this phone?” I forced my tone to remain calm and neutral, even though my racing blood was loud in my ears, spattering silver dots across my vision and engorging my fingers as I clutched my phone.
The big Nazi laughed. “We got lots of things that used to belong to you, ese.” With a grainy black-and-white blur, he panned to a snowy patch of asphalt where Devereux and Louie sat back-to-back, hands bound behind them, faces bloodied and swollen, heads hanging.
I didn’t even want to think about what had become of the rest of their crew as another smear shifted the view to what I knew was my shipping container—my guns. Men with their faces concealed stood in a circle around it while a forklift hoisted it onto a flatbed that was decidedly not mine.
“That’s right, asshole. We got your boys, we got your guns, and best of all, we got the location of your warehouse.”
“What warehouse? What are you talking about?” I certainly didn’t keep my merchandise in a single location.
The Nazi narrowed his eyes. “Too late to play stupid now. We have connections. Powerful allies. And we know all about Gardegris Towers. We’re taking it away from you too. Power back in the hands of the white man, where it fucking belongs. Your time’s done, motherfucker. You and all the rest like you. Blood and soil.”
My grip tightened on the phone as the Nazi’s face came back into view. I had been too lenient with these hijos de la gran puta—a mistake I would remedy as soon as possible. I had underestimated them, and I was as angry with myself as I was about what had happened. “Sigue con tu vaina, lambe bolsa. I’m coming for you, and I’m going to kill every Nazi mamaguevo in the tristate area.”
He started to say something, but I had heard all I needed. I threw the phone onto the sidewalk and crushed it with my heel. It was compromised, and I had others.
For a moment I closed my eyes. I could not remember the last time I had been so angry that my fists shook. Growing up, I’d hated being the smart one, the schemer, the one who could think his way out of any situation. Academia—everything from language
s and mathematics to art—came easily to me, but I would have traded it all to be more like my brother Ramon: healthy, strong, and charming. I’d hated the club foot that prevented me from playing sports or following my brother into the Army. But over the years, I had come to terms with my gifts, grown to realize I was the lucky one, because what I had been given would not fade, like speed or strength, with time. No, the blade I wielded had only grown sharper with use.
I needed my mind—its unique way of coming at a problem—now more than ever. But I also needed muscle, and that meant calling in favors.
As soon as I’d collected myself enough to accomplish it, I went back inside the hotel and found Moirin still at the bar, a group of admiring men—and women—standing in a crescent around her stool. She smiled and batted her eyes at a few of them, but as soon as she saw me, she forgot them all in her haste to join me near the entrance. I must not have gathered my composure as much as I’d thought.
“What is it? What’s happened?” She clutched my arm, and I laid my hand over hers to lead her into the empty lobby, to a secluded corner where we wouldn’t be overheard. Then I hurried to provide a summary of what had happened outside, what I’d learned.
A deep crimson stained her cheeks. “Fecking maggot-arsed hoors. They’re dead.”
I nodded. “They’re headed to a place called Gardegris Towers. Damn. I should’ve looked it up before I disposed of my phone.”
Moirin already had hers out. “It’s a historical property in Milford. Belonged to some Frenchman, a conservationist who made a fortune on hybrid plants. Established a school… friends with prominent occultists of the day… available for weddings…. They think this is where we’re keeping an arsenal? That doesn’t make a damn bit of sense.”
“Sense or not, that’s where they’re going, and they have Devereux and Louie. They could be bringing the latest shipment as well. We need to be there.”
“If they volunteered the information, we’d be fools not to think trap,” she said.
