Double or Nothing (Daniel Faust Book 7)

by Craig Schaefer

  “Basically like Judge Judy.”

  Nadine blinked. She tilted her head, peering at me for a moment.

  “Actually…yes,” she said. “Much like Judge Judy.”

  “And what are the odds that he finds in my favor?”

  “He doesn’t like you, at all, so infinitesimal. The point is, this won’t end with your destruction; you’ll return Naavarasi’s property, honor will be satisfied, and there will be no further repercussions.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “that doesn’t work for me. Circe is a person, not a thing, and I’m not handing her over.”

  Nadine reached for me. Just a finger, curling toward the nape of my neck. I took a step back.

  “One man, standing alone against the tides of hell,” she murmured. “Romantic and stupid.”

  “I’ve been called worse. And I’m not alone.”

  “Your precious Caitlin can’t help you, not with this.” Her lips curled into a scowl. “You still believe she loves you, don’t you? We are daughters of the Choir of Lust, Daniel. The appearance of love is simply a tool in our arsenal, a means of getting what we want. We aren’t so weak as to actually feel it for anyone.”

  “We humans,” I said, “have this psychological concept called ‘projection.’ You should look it up.”

  “You never opened the envelope I gave you, did you? I only later realized that they probably confiscated your belongings when you landed in prison.”

  She dipped her fingers into her clutch. They emerged with a small square envelope, crisp and ivory, the flap sealed with a lipstick kiss. She held it out to me.

  “So I made you another. Inside, you’ll find the name and address of Caitlin’s last human lover. Go to him. See what she did to him. Don’t take my word for it, take his.”

  I stared at the envelope. It swayed between her fingertips like the head of a rattlesnake.

  “Keep it,” I told her.

  “Why? You think I’m lying? Well, then there’s nothing to it, is there? Some sort of trick, a deception you’ll no doubt see right through.” She gave me a slow, cruel smile. “With the strength of your love. Or maybe you know, deep down inside, that I’m telling the truth. And as long as you don’t open the envelope, you’ll never have to confront reality.”

  The envelope swayed. Beckoned.

  “I never thought you a coward,” she told me. “If you were really so sure, if you really believed in her, you’d take this envelope without hesitation.”

  I couldn’t not take it after that. I had something to prove. To her, not to myself. I snatched the envelope from her, careful not to brush against Nadine’s fingers, and shoved it into my pocket. Unopened.

  “Once you see the truth, I’ll be waiting with open arms. I will save you. And I will never pretend to love you, but you won’t mind.” She ran one slow hand down her hip. Her fingers traced the pleated ruffles of her skirt. “Some things are much better than love.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  Nadine stepped back. Her gaze took me in, head to toe and back again.

  “Then I’ll mourn you, very briefly. Something you should know: hunters are already lining up to take the contract. Including my daughter. Nyx has never failed to capture a bounty.”

  “Are you sure about that?” I asked. “Because last time I was here, I’m pretty sure I heard something about Harmony Black—”

  Nadine’s eyes blazed, shifting to orbs of swirling molten brass as she barked at me from a mouth lined with shark’s teeth.

  “Shut. Your. Mouth.”

  I pointed at her face. “And this is why we could never have a relationship together. We’d be in couple’s therapy so fast.”

  A figure emerged from the shadows at the labyrinth’s edge. Emma Loomis, in a prim sweater and faded jeans, looking like the picture of a suburban soccer mom. That is, if you ignored the flecks of fresh blood speckling her hands.

  “The other reason is he’s already spoken for.” Emma put her hands on her hips. “Do we have a problem here, Nadine?”

  “We don’t have anything at all, peasant.” Nadine glared at her, then looked my way as her voice dropped. “Open your eyes, then come to me. Do it while you still draw breath.”

  She stormed off, deeper into the maze of honeycombed chambers, her hands curled into claws at her sides. Emma strolled over, watching her retreat with one raised eyebrow.

  “What was that all about?”

  “Before I answer,” I said, “two questions. One, are you still mad at me? And two, why do you have blood on your hands?”

  Emma took a deep breath and puffed her cheeks, letting it out as a tired sigh.

  “I told you to take my daughter to a safe house. Instead, you placed her in the dubious care of two elderly con artists. Melanie is doing card tricks now, Daniel. Card tricks.”

  “I had to do what I thought was right. I’m sorry.”

  “Caitlin eventually impressed that upon me. And your apology is accepted. Melanie and I are just going through a rough patch.” Emma rolled her eyes. “I swear. I fought in two civil wars, one here and one back home. I witnessed the burning of Atlanta and survived the Massacre of the Tenebrous Deeps. None of it—none of it—prepared me for raising a teenage daughter.”

  “I never knew you were a soldier,” I said.

  Emma stared off to the side for a moment. She wore a faint, sad smile, something wistful in her eyes.

  “When Lucifer abandoned us, when hell tumbled into chaos…many of us became soldiers for a little while.” She shook it off, her shoulders slumping, and met my gaze. “Nadine, for the record, didn’t. She sat in her tower and waited to jump on a winning team once the hard work was done. As she does. So what did she want, anyway?”

  I unfolded the bounty contract and handed it to her.

  “Apparently I’m in more trouble than usual.”

  Emma’s eyes went wide as her finger trailed down the disjointed type. “Daniel, this is…we have to see Caitlin. Now. Come on, I’m pulling her out of her meeting.”

  “You still haven’t told me why you have blood on your hands,” I said, walking fast to keep up.

  “Because I work hard and I play hard.”

  “That’s really not an answer,” I said.

  “Sure it is.”

  She hammered her fist against a smooth mahogany door, then opened it without waiting for an invitation. Inside a long, narrow conference room, at a polished granite table surrounded by high-backed leather chairs, Caitlin sat with a pair of Asian men in somber black suits. Emma swept in and handed her the bounty letter.

  Caitlin read it in silence. Then she pushed her chair back and rose sharply to her feet.

  “Gentlemen, I deeply apologize, but an emergency has come up. Please, enjoy the pleasures of our humble establishment. I’ll come and find you as soon as we’re finished.”

  Then she held out her hand and said something in a smooth, flowing tongue that sounded like Mandarin. One of the men responded as he stood, both of them nodding quickly. They backed out of the room, and Emma shut the door.

  “New friends?” I asked.

  “Emissaries from the Court of the White Harvest,” Caitlin said. “We’re strengthening our overseas ties. Daniel, this…this has gone too far. You need to placate Naavarasi. Give her what she wants.”

  “I was kind of hoping you were going to tell me about some cool corporate judo you could do and make this all go away.”

  Caitlin sank back into her chair. She pressed her hand to her head, her other hand brushing against the letter.

  “Make it go away?” She sighed. “I can’t even defend you. At the stroke of midnight, you become a fugitive under hell’s law. If I intervene in any way, or if any of my people do, it’s tantamount to an act of war against Naavarasi’s court.”

  “And the bitch knows it.” Emma stood at Caitlin’s shoulder, folding her arms. “She’s backed us all into a corner. Separate corners.”

  “So, these ‘chainmen,’” I said. “What�
��s their deal? I mean, I get the basics, they’re bounty hunters, but what are the ground rules here?”

  Caitlin counted them off on her fingertips. “One, any ordained chainman may take on any contract. They’re freelancers.”

  “In other words,” Emma said, “even if you somehow defeat one or two of them, more will come. And they will never stop. Oh, and in the event of the plaintiff’s untimely death, the contract stays active. So as much as we’d all enjoy it right now, killing Naavarasi won’t save you.”

  “Two, they can only hunt their designated target, must limit any unnecessary contact with mortals, must conceal their true natures at all costs—of course—and must depart as soon as the hunt is finished. Chainmen are forbidden to directly fight each other when competing for a bounty, but any field assets or employees may do as they wish.”

  “These are actually guidelines,” Emma said, “not rules, and frequently broken for the sake of convenience.”

  Caitlin gave Emma the side-eye. “I appear to have sprouted an editorial commentator.”

  “Do you want him to survive this or not?”

  “Fair,” Caitlin said. She looked back to me. “Three, the Order of Chainmen recruits from all strata of hell and every court. Their members include incarnates, possessors, occult constructs, occasionally cambion, and even—very rarely—humans they find worthy of admission.”

  “And most of them would kill their own mothers for a bent nickel,” Emma said.

  “And four, there’s no time limit, no finish line. There are only two ways this ends. Naavarasi can retract her contract, at which point the hunt is over…”

  “Or?” I asked.

  “Or,” Caitlin said, “the chainmen will hunt you down, slay your mortal body, and drag your soul to stand trial in Prince Malphas’s court. At which point the most likely verdict, going off of centuries of prior jurisprudence, is that you will be given to Naavarasi as a slave. For all of eternity. And there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.”

  “So you have that to look forward to,” Emma said.

  26.

  We went back and forth for a while, tossing ideas in the air, watching them burn to ash at our feet. I told them everything Nadine had said. Everything but the part about the envelope in my pocket, sealed with a cherry-lipped kiss.

  “I hate to say it,” Emma sighed. “I really hate to say it—”

  Caitlin glared at her. “Then don’t.”

  “Nadine has a point. If Daniel became a member of the Flowers, this becomes an internal diplomatic issue. The chainmen would have to back off, it would be tied up in the courts while we work to settle things via the usual backchannels—”

  “And Nadine sticks her fingers in my brain and swirls ’em around until I’m not me anymore,” I said. “Uh-uh. Why are she and Royce so hot to recruit me, anyway?”

  “Because of me,” Caitlin said. “Nadine despises me. Hates the idea that a ‘commoner’ could rise to the rank of a hound, while she was passed over for the honor. She doesn’t want you. She just knows that I want you, which is all the reason she needs to try and take you from me.”

  “I don’t see any other way out of this,” Emma said. “You hand Circe over, or you face the consequences. I’m sorry, I’m trying to be supportive, but the law is the law. Naavarasi is in the right.”

  I didn’t buy it. I didn’t believe in no-win situations, and I’d spent my entire life breaking laws for a living. This was a new rulebook, but every rulebook had loopholes. Nadine had even admitted the Cold Peace was made to be twisted. I just had to find an angle of attack.

  In a flash, it hit me.

  I tugged the glossy photograph that I’d taken from Naavarasi from my pocket, the picture of the knife with the punch tape stuck to one corner, and laid it flat on the table.

  “Her angle is that I’m a thief,” I said. “The knife was hers, so even though I didn’t steal it directly from her, I’m still hanging on to stolen property.”

  “Exactly,” Caitlin said. “If this was simply a dispute over an unpaid debt, which we thought would be her angle of attack, there’d be no grounds to summon the chainmen. Not yet, at least, not until all diplomatic options were exhausted.”

  “So what if she’s lying?” I asked.

  Emma leaned in, studying the photograph. “Do you think she is?”

  “We asked Circe if Naavarasi was her owner. She didn’t even recognize the name.”

  “To be fair,” Caitlin said, “she’s borderline incoherent and she used to be a piece of kitchenware. I’m not convinced she’s entirely sane. Nor do we know if her memory is intact.”

  “What if I can prove it? The knife was in Damien Ecko’s safe. If I can trace its history, follow it back…what if I can prove she’s lying, and Circe was never hers in the first place?”

  “Then she’ll have egg all over her face,” Emma said. A tiny smile rose to her lips. “Invoking the chainmen under false pretenses? A grave offense. Prince Malphas will have to punish her for that. Might even strip her of her title and lands. She’ll be lucky if the order doesn’t hunt her in retribution.”

  Caitlin nodded, taking it in. “And even if she survives the humiliation, this goes right back to being a diplomatic matter. One we will win, purely by the weight of righteous outrage. You’ll owe her nothing.”

  “And Circe goes free,” I said.

  “You realize,” Caitlin said, “Naavarasi may be telling the truth. In which case you’re squandering the last hours of your life on a wild goose chase.”

  “I’m confident I have absolute, incontrovertible evidence that she was lying,” I said.

  “Oh? Which is?”

  “Her lips were moving when she said it.”

  Emma shrugged. “Can’t argue that.”

  “Looks like I’m taking a red-eye to Chicago,” I said.

  Caitlin put her finger on the photograph and slid it across the granite table.

  “I can’t go with you,” she said. “We can’t be seen rendering any aid, in any way—”

  “Hey,” I said. “No worries. I got this. And meanwhile, Circe’s safer hiding out in my new apartment than she is anywhere else. It’s totally secure.”

  “Didn’t you say that about your last apartment?” she asked me.

  “It was, until I trusted the wrong person. And if it turns out Circe is secretly working for Naavarasi and this is a giant setup and my place gets firebombed again…” I pocketed the photograph. “Well, the chainmen won’t have to kill me. I will literally die of embarrassment. Literally.”

  Caitlin rose from her chair, filling the space between us with two graceful steps. She pulled me into a kiss. Her fingertips stroked the back of my neck, and I wished this moment could go on forever.

  I wished it didn’t feel like a kiss goodbye.

  “We can’t help directly,” she told me, “but stay in contact as much as you can. I’ll mobilize operatives to gather information and see what we can learn about the hunters on your trail.”

  “We know one of them,” Emma said. “Nyx.”

  I looked over at her, past Caitlin’s shoulder. “Any chance she’s secretly a cream puff who loves kittens and rainbows?”

  “Oh, no, she’ll rip your spine out, sharpen it into a spear, and impale you on it. Not to kill you, just to hold you in place while she twists your limbs off one at a time. She’s basically a seething ball of uncontrollable rage.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” I said. “Her mom is so nice. Hey, one question. On the bounty notice, my threat level is listed as ‘NP.’ What does that mean, exactly?”

  Caitlin and Emma shared a glance. Neither responded.

  “Means I’m a scary, world-class badass, right?” I said. “Like, hey, watch out for this guy.”

  “It—” Caitlin started to say.

  “Well—” Emma added, cringing a little.

  “I’ll take that as agreement,” I said. “Okay, so, I guess…I guess this is it. I gotta run.”

  Caitlin put
her hand on my shoulder. Her fingers curled tight.

  “Go,” she said. “Run swift, run silent. And come back to me.”

  * * *

  I shouldered my way through my apartment door. My arms were heavy with white plastic bags, overstuffed and threatening to split at the seams. I heard a laugh track rippling from the television.

  “I’m home,” I called out, hefting the bags onto the kitchen counter. “You okay?”

  Circe stood at the edge of the kitchen nook. The last of the blood spatter had faded from her tunic, leaving pristine ivory in its wake. Her eyes seemed sharper, her olive skin richer than before.

  “I am well,” she said. “But you carry a heaviness. I can sense it.”

  I was in the middle of tugging a package of Oreos from the bag. Pausing, I stared at her.

  “Why are you suddenly speaking in complete sentences?”

  “Television,” she said.

  I could roll with that. I laid out groceries, chucking a few packages into the refrigerator.

  “I went shopping,” I said. “I’ve gotta go on a little trip, so I bought about two weeks’ worth of food. Two days for you, judging by how you scarfed down that pizza. It’s all prepackaged stuff. I wasn’t sure if you knew how to cook.”

  “I spent much of the afternoon watching the Cooking Channel. I can cook now.”

  “You’re either overconfident,” I said, “or an incredibly fast learner.”

  “Not learning so much as remembering. I parse word-symbols to unlock the chambers of my history. My past skills facilitate the acquisition of present knowledge, such as your language. Most of my memories during the time I was imprisoned, unfortunately, remain sealed to me. I was sleeping, without dreams. You asked, before, if I knew this ‘Naavarasi’. I cannot say for certain.”