Against the Dawn (10 page)

He was such a showman.

Through the darkness, I spied a single form standing on a set of winding stairs that circled one of the main silos, and in my shadow form, I glided up and around to where Lorik stood, waiting.

“Can you believe they salvaged this place? I thought for sure someone would have torn it to the ground years ago.”

“Out with the old and in with new?” I regained my corporeal form on the step above him in order to have the best vantage point. I still didn’t trust Lorik, or his motives in returning to Seattle, and watching my back was my top priority. “Someone in your position should appreciate the preservation of things that should be long-gone from the face of the earth. Wouldn’t you agree, Lorik?”

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d take that as an insult. Or a threat,” he replied, placing a hand over his chest.

“What makes you think you know me at all?”

He turned to face me, eyes narrowed. “You might be hiding behind a cold, bitchy exterior now,
Dariana
, but I know the real you. It could be that you don’t know yourself very well. Perhaps you’ve bought into your own dour act.”

Damn. I really couldn’t argue with his logic. It was years of detachment, more emotional baggage than I could carry, and the need to not feel a goddamned thing that prompted me to hide behind a mask of apathy. Maybe I’d hidden too well and couldn’t find my way back. “Your boy’s late.” I wasn’t interested in letting Lorik double as my therapist. I just wanted to meet with his contact and go to bed.

“He’ll be here.”

“Okay. When?”

“Now.”

A voice spoke from the darkness, accompanied by the echo of boots on the iron steps. I felt for anything out of the ordinary, something that might spark some sort of clue as to what kind of supernatural our mystery man was. Strange. He didn’t send out any distinct vibe that would indicate he was anything other than human. Just like Lorik. Which either meant I was losing my touch, or this guy was as mundane as he appeared. Right now, I was fifty-fifty and I had to assume that Mithras would be packing some heavy duty supernatural mojo if he was as big a player as Ty thought he was. So I was left with only one other option.

“Who are you?” I took two steps down the stairs, placing myself between Lorik and his contact. The quarters were tight, so I pulled a dagger from its sheath and brought it up in a defensive stance. Better to err on the side of caution.

“I’m Mithras.” A cocky, enigmatic smile played on his lips.

“No you’re not.”

Chapter Eight

He only wished he was Mithras. My guess was he was a low-level employee the big boss was using as a decoy to check us out. A lot of heavy-hitters used decoys, so I wasn’t so much surprised as I was disappointed. Dealing with a middle man was an indicator that I was going to have to do a lot more leg work before I came face to face with my mark. Which was okay for now, it would give Ty more time for reconnaissance, and I was counting on Raif to dig something up, too. So for now I was on my own with Lorik and whatever goons Mithras decided to throw our way.

“I’m going to ask again. Who are you? And if you tell me Mithras, I’m going to introduce you to the pointy end of my dagger.”

I waited patiently as the middleman sized me up. He was human. Had to be. Even so, he was impressive. At least six-six and all two hundred and thirty pounds or so of him was sculpted muscle. His dark eyes didn’t give anything away and though he wasn’t completely relaxed, his confident stance let me know that this wasn’t the first time someone had threatened to poke him with something sharp, and likewise, it didn’t bother him all that much. If I had to guess, he was pretty high up in the organization. Maybe the number two man. The silence stretched on, his face an impassive mask and I found myself mesmerized by the way the moonlight played off his presumably shaved and shiny bald head.

“Let’s go,” I finally said to Lorik. I was tired and not interested in playing games tonight.

“You can’t really expect my employer to come in person before your associate has been properly vetted?” Baldy asked as I tried to push past him and make a path for Lorik down the stairs.

“And what makes you think
my
employer wants to meet with someone who has no power to make offers just for the sake of your boss’s paranoia? He came in good faith. You however—”

“Came prepared to speak on the behalf of Mithras. You should consider any offer from me as good as an offer from him.”

Lorik put a hand on my arm and urged it down. My night hadn’t been stellar, it might have cheered me up to stab Mithras’s lackey, but apparently Lorik was ready to talk business. “After this meeting is concluded,” he said in a tone that would tarnish metal, “you can tell Mithras that I don’t appreciate his deception. The risk is equal to both of us and I was man enough to come in person.”

Baldy flashed us a wide, mocking grin. “As you wish.”

I was itching to throw down with a
Princess Bride
joke, but I had a feeling the present company wouldn’t find it as amusing as I would. I turned to Lorik and said, “We should leave. This could be a setup.”

“If you’re worried about law enforcement, I can assure you that petty human interferences won’t be a problem.”

“Aren’t you simply a petty human?”

Aside from the slightest thinning of his lips, Baldy didn’t give me any other indicator that my words struck a chord. “Your track record is impressive, Lorik. And Mithras has no doubt that a relationship could be lucrative to the both of you. However, before he trusts you with the bulk of the distribution, he requests that you prove yourself worthy.”

If I’d doubted Mithras was a supernatural, I didn’t anymore. There was something about the formal cadence of Baldy’s relayed words, coupled with the request that Lorik prove himself
worthy
that made me suspect we were dealing with a guy who had a few hundred years under his belt. Human or not, Baldy had been trained, either from instruction or immersion, to copy a more formal pattern of speech. Most supernaturals—especially the ones who’d been around for a while—stuck to old customs, old speech patterns… Hell, even Raif had a tendency to dress like he was staring in a period flick when he wasn’t out in public. As far as I could tell, Ty was the only exception to the rule. Probably because he didn’t want anyone to have a clue as to how old he really was.

Lorik shrugged his shoulders as though Baldy’s request was no big deal. “I assure you I can handle the distribution, but if your employer wants to test me, I’m up for the challenge.”

By “distribution,” I had a feeling Lorik wasn’t going to be handing out lollipops to sick kids in the hospital. In the thirties, his criminal activities had been limited to booze, bets, and the occasional scam. Vasili forbade his son from dabbling in the drug trade and the only guns they ran were the ones sitting next to them as they transported whiskey over the Canadian border. Times had changed, I guessed.
Damn it
.

“Hang on a sec,” I don’t know why I felt the urge to keep Lorik out of trouble. He hadn’t been my responsibility in decades. He gave me a look that told me I was overstepping. He obviously didn’t want my input, merely my presence. I was good enough to kill someone for him, but apparently my opinion meant dick. So I decided to change course. “As your—” What? I didn’t have an official title. “Head of security, I’m more concerned about reassurances. How do we know this guy is who he says he is? Or that he has the authority to make offers on Mithras’s behalf. You shouldn’t have to prove yourself to anyone, Lorik. They should be
begging
for the chance to work with you.” If I gave him enough of an ego boost, I might be able to convince Lorik to slow his roll. “And likewise, who says we’re concerned about human interference? Where’s our assurance that you’re not working for the PNT?”

Lorik gave me a curious look and it took everything I had not to roll my eyes. A criminal mastermind, he wasn’t. Especially if he didn’t even know who the ruling supernatural authority was. No way could he have managed to stay alive this long without the help of sorcery. He was completely clueless.

“The PNT isn’t a problem,” Baldy replied. “Mithras is above all law.”

“Because he’s a god?” I ventured. Damn was I glad I’d talked to Raif before meeting Lorik tonight.

“The sun doesn’t care about the moon.” Baldy was rocking the melodramatic, mysterious vibe. I wondered if all of Mirthras’s people had to take acting classes. “The universe waits to do its bidding.”

“Okay.” I cut Lorik a look. I mean, seriously, could he not see that this guy was off his rocker? “This is your deal, Lorik, not mine. But I don’t think you need to prove shit to anyone. Just my opinion.”

“What do I have to do to prove I’m worthy?” Ugh. So much for ego. Lorik was desperate to be brought into Mithras’s inner circle. Good for me if I wanted to get close to my mark, but I’d be working double time to keep him out of trouble.

“Tomorrow, you’ll receive a phone call. You’ll pick up a package at the address specified and make a delivery.”

“That’s it?” Lorik said with a laugh. “It’s that simple?”

When dealing with supernaturals,
nothing
was that simple.

“If you complete the task, Mithras will consider your request to move his product. Fail…” he said with a shrug, “and your life is forfeit.”

Well. That didn’t sound foreboding or anything.

“All right.” Jesus. Did Lorik have even an ounce of sense? “Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow.” And with a low rumble of laughter, Baldy turned his back toward us and headed down the winding staircase and into the darkness below.

Good lord. I needed a drink.

I couldn’t stand Lorik for another second. I thought I might be tempted to wrap my hands around his throat and shake him to death. So, I dragged my tired ass out of there and headed for The Pit. Mithras wasn’t my only pet project. Tyler had refused to answer my questions about the Synod and
Nys’Asdar
the other night, but I was finally ready to woo Levi into helping me uncover a mystery or two.

Weeknights were my best chance to nail Levi down. The bar was quiet, well, quiet
er
and he wasn’t busy enough that I had to feel guilty about monopolizing his time. Whoever his boss was, he probably wouldn’t appreciate me hustling his bartender for information when he was supposed to be working. Which made me wonder…how did Levi come by his supernatural knowledge, and who the hell
did
own The Pit? I spent enough time there, you’d think I’d know these things by now.

I didn’t bring any cash with me. I came to the table ready to negotiate a price. Levi didn’t like giving up information about the Jinn and I knew he wouldn’t pony up for a few hundred bucks. If I was going to get anything out of him, I was going to have to make it worth his while.

“Nope. Sorry, Darian.”

“Throw me a bone here, Levi.” Seriously, he was
killing
me. “You can’t tell me no, just like that.”

“Yeah, I can.” He grabbed two wine glasses in each hand and hung them base first on the rack above his head. “I told you months ago that I can’t share any information with you when it comes to the Jinn.”

“You haven’t even given me the chance to make an offer.” I knew he’d give me trouble, but I was hoping he wouldn’t shut me down from the get-go. “How about you throw out a number and we go from there?”

“A billion dollars,” he said without breaking his stride. He finished stocking wine glasses and moved on to whiskey tumblers.

“Come on.” Who did he think he was, Doctor Evil? “A billion dollars? I’m trying to be serious here.”

“So am I.” He poured himself a soda and poked a straw down through the ice. “You want information I can’t give you. Not without risking my life. And even if you did have a billion dollars to pay me, it wouldn’t get me far enough away to save my ass if anyone found out what I’d told you.”

“You have to give me something.” Really, he didn’t have to give me shit. But I hoped he’d take pity on me since my regular presence here was a clear indicator that my life was sad and pathetic. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“You know how Ty is so laid back?” Levi said. “Walking around like any other guy on the street. No fancy clothes, no flashy cars. You wouldn’t think he had a cent to his name by the way he dressed.”

It was true. Ty was about as laid back as they came. And his wardrobe—strictly t-shirts and jeans—looked fresh from the thrift store. “Yeah? So?”

“Have you ever wondered why that is? I mean, he’s got money, we both know that. And he’s old. Like,
oooold
. He never throws his weight around, though. He doesn’t walk around acting like he’s better than anyone else. He’s got the kind of calm self-control that would make the Dali Llama jealous. Have you ever seen him lose it?”

Once. At the PNT ball over six months ago. He’d gone after Xander like a wolf taking down an elk. “He fought with Xander a while back.” I was downplaying it for Ty’s benefit in case Levi didn’t know the specifics, but he’d put Xander against a wall and damn near punched a hole through his face. And I still didn’t know what the repercussions for his actions would be.