Dark Game (Merikh Book 1) (13 page)

I pulled up behind the diner and sprinted from the van to the door in the alley. Banging and kicking it didn’t draw a response so I dashed around the front. The lights were on and there were two tables of people eating, but I didn’t care. I shouldered the front door aside and entered.

“Claire,” I said, walking to the bar and toward the back door. One of the tables had a couple who kept their eyes down and ignored me but the other was a family. The parents were turning their children away from me and I realized I was covered in blood from half-carrying Mouse to the van. I looked like I’d just come from a fight with the police.

Not good for my cover, but I didn’t care.

“Get in here,” Claire said from the entrance to the back room. I hadn’t noticed her appear; I was rattled and in shock, out of control and weak when Mouse needed me the most.

I hurried to the back room and waited for Claire to shut the door before telling her what I needed.

“I don’t just have it in the back room,” she said. “And I don’t just hand it out to anyone.”

“No, just people who threaten you and want to destroy your town.” I grabbed her arms and gave her a shake to emphasize what I was saying. “I need this to save a friend and I’ll take you apart if I have to.”

That blue glow began seeping from her pores but she didn’t try to lash out again.

“I don’t want to get involved,” she said. She looked determined, holding eye contact in the face of my desperation.

“Heal my friend and I won’t kill you. You say you’re a god. Prove it.”

“You won’t kill me, and the police are probably already on their way with the way you look.”

I threw her against the wall and my knife was at her throat before she recovered. “If she dies you die, and I’ll leave Foster to do whatever he wants with the town.”

She smiled and I almost stabbed her. It was something I hadn’t been expecting and it was the way she did it, as though she’d been waiting for me to say a specific set of words before agreeing. As though this was all a game to her.

“We can make a deal, if you like.” She didn’t care about the knife at her throat, didn’t care that I had just threatened to kill her. “I’ll heal your friend, but in exchange I want you to do something for me.”

“I’m already going to kill Foster.” I could practically feel Mouse dying out in the van. I wanted to kill Claire just for slowing me down after the mad dash from Littleton.

“When you do, I want you to do something for me. If you agree, I’ll save your friend.”

“Fine.” I grabbed her and pushed her toward the back door. I didn’t want her to change her mind or come up with some other condition. I didn’t want to delay any longer than I had already.

She opened up and I led her to the van. Mouse had slipped half off the chair to the floor of the van and she wasn’t breathing.

The world faded away for a moment and all I could think of was what I was going to do to this woman who thought she was a god. And the deputies for raiding Littleton. And the people in Littleton for taking her out of the damn van in the first place. And Trevor for not dying when he was supposed to.

“She isn’t dead,” Claire whispered, her voice cracking the shell that had sprung up between me and the world. I focused again and saw her hand on Mouse’s side. Mouse’s blood oozing over the waitress’s fingers. Mouse’s slack face.

“Can…can you help her?” I sounded like a scared child, which I guess I was.

“She has not begun her journey to the nether and her mortal body is a simple machine to fix.”

I didn’t care what gibberish she was saying. Mouse was breathing and the blood had stopped. Her eyes fluttered as though coming out of a dream.

“She will live?” I asked, breathing heavily, my heart thumping in my chest.

“She’ll be sore for a few hours but she’ll be fine.” Claire turned that odd smile on me. “Remember our deal, assassin.”

“Whatever you need.” I turned away from the van and took a deep breath to clear my head. Then I started walking.

“Where are you going?” Claire said. She sounded preoccupied, which was fine. She had important things to do.

I had important things to do as well.

“I’m going to kill some people.”

Chapter 11

The sheriff’s department was a new building on the outskirts of Greenridge, a larger town on the edge of the county. Where Midway was stuck small and quiet, Greenridge had aspirations.

I stood in the shadows of a bar across the street. Deputies were still arriving from the raid on Littleton. They parked out front and dragged prisoners through the hungry mouth of the front doors. I think they called in help from other counties because there were a lot of them. Far more than I’d ever seen before, which allowed them to arrest what looked like half the residents of the shantytown.

I was only looking for three of them, though. The ones who had a hand in Mouse’s predicament had to die. When I was done with them I’d go find the hole the Littleton enforcers were hiding in and I’d take care of them, too.

I was bouncing on the balls of my feet, excited and filled with energy. I was made for this and I wanted it. I needed it. I could hear Mouse in my ear telling me to calm down, to think it through before I did something stupid. I could ignore her as long as I kept in mind the image of her bleeding to death beside me. That could block out anything.

I’d left the clan because I couldn’t rationalize what they wanted us to do with the ideals they instilled in me. Like Mouse, they believed they were doing something grand, making the world a better place one job at a time. Unlike Mouse, they were full of it.

Our leader, Walter DeLacy, would give a speech about the power we held and the responsibility that came with it, telling us that we had to use it with wisdom because there were bad people in the world. The world needed us even if they could never know we were there. Then he would send someone out to kill a cop who wouldn’t bow to corruption.

It was a cult, though I didn’t know it at the time. When Mouse pointed it out I rejected the idea without thinking, but I’d had time to consider it since then. He told us only what he needed to in order to get what he wanted. I became sure he had some grand plan he wasn’t telling us and I got into trouble for suggesting it, but I now believe it to be something simpler.

He wanted power, over us and over anyone he didn’t like. He had no greater goal than satisfying his ego.

I was doing the same as I watched the deputies arrive, and I knew it. I was acting on my impulse and it felt good. I had more power than they did, more skill and ability, and they had hurt me. I was going to show them why that was a bad idea.

You’d think this would have given me a reason to rethink what I was doing, but you’d be wrong. In that moment I had Mouse lying beside me dying. I had enough reason to kill them all.

The ones I was looking for had arrived together, as though it had been set up just for me. They handed their one prisoner off to someone at the door and headed inside. I wouldn’t have long to wait.

Early morning in that part of the world is colder than you’d think. It was a degree or two short of me seeing my breath. Beyond the sheriff’s building and the army of triumphant deputies, there wasn’t a sound for a mile. Everyone was tucked up tight and out of the way.

The female deputy left the building first. They parked their personal cars in the same lot as their cruisers. I had crossed the road and was planning my angles before she finished her last goodbye at the door.

She’d parked nearer the street than the building, and I had to duck behind a bush to avoid her seeing me during the long walk. It wasn’t hard to remain inconspicuous; they were tired and high on success, and they weren’t expecting anything this close to the seat of their power.

She stopped at a VW hatchback one row away and opened the door before someone called out to her from the station. She turned and I spotted one of the men I was looking for. He joined the woman at her car and, in hushed whispers, they had a conversation I couldn’t make out. I didn’t need to hear what they said to know what they were saying.

They kissed and she got in her car. The man headed for the street.

I memorized her plate number for later and changed target. The man would be easier and he’d be able to give me directions to the last person on my list. I followed him to a cross street, sticking to the shadows and keeping out of sight.

For some reason, I’d expected more. They’d almost killed Mouse and in my head they’d been worthy enemies, people I needed to take care of. This man was too tired to notice that the only other person on the street was following him, too stupid to worry that there might be some payback for what he’d done just hours ago. He was just a guy.

This was the moment I should have realized the error of my ways and gone back to Mouse, but I didn’t. I’m stubborn, and stupid. I know how to do one thing well and I tend to stick to what comes easiest. I’m a hammer so everything looks like a nail, right?

The guy’s apartment was above another bar. He dragged himself up the stairs in the alley beside it and let himself in through a dented metal door. I waited a few minutes for him to get comfortable before joining him.

Picking a lock is actually really difficult, and often unnecessary. Even people who have eight locks on their doors often leave a window open rather than putting on the AC. Smart move if you’re worried about energy prices, but not so much if you’re being hunted.

The window above his toilet was opened a crack and after I removed the bug mesh I was able to force my hand far enough inside so that I could reach the catch holding it in place. I slowly opened the window the rest of the way and slipped inside.

He was in bed already, crashed, with most of his clothes still on. I didn’t think he was asleep yet – his breathing wasn’t right – but he was on his way.

Did I want him to know why he was dying? What he’d done to deserve my vengeance? Did I plan to wake him up and show him my face before I slit his throat?

Did I want to do more than slit his throat and watch him bleed?

I stepped into his kitchen, ostensibly to see if there was anyone else I had to worry about. At this time of night, if he’d had a partner waiting for him, he or she would have been with him in bed already. But it never hurt to be careful.

His kitchen was a mess of fast food containers and empty beer bottles, and the tiny space reserved for his enormous TV was covered in unwashed clothes. This guy didn’t have anyone waiting for him. He was all mine.

I walked slowly back to the bedroom, taking my time. I told myself I was savoring it. I’d completely forgotten that I’d wanted to question him about his colleagues and perhaps single out the one who’d actually hurt Mouse. Instead, all I was trying to do was get myself to act at all.

I couldn’t do it. Standing in the mess of his life and seeing him as a person was sapping my will to strike, and I couldn’t stop it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop it, and even the image of Mouse wasn’t keeping me focused.

Something was wrong with me, something about the town and the situation was making me lose focus. Maybe the magic was having an effect on me after all, I thought. Maybe I was losing my way.

I’m not a complete idiot. I knew what was happening; I just didn’t want to admit it. I was venting, lashing out because that’s what I know how to do and not because it made any sense. Seeing that, feeling it, was painful. Painful, and unavoidable.

I stood in his bedroom door for a while, my knife gripped in my hand so tight my fingers hurt after. I wanted to do it, and it would be so easy.

I turned and left, leaving his window down but putting the screen back up.

I was at the base of the stairs when I noticed Trevor Foster waiting for me at the mouth of the alley.

“You couldn’t do it?” he said, shaking his head like he was disappointed.

I was Mark, the IT guy from the bank. “I don’t want any trouble, sir.” I bowed my head and tried to step around him. He stepped with me, forcing me to either stop or get within touching distance. I stopped.

“I know why you’re here.”

“I’m sorry about the other night,” I said quickly, putting as much of a whine in my voice as I could after the night I’d had. “I should have stayed out of your business. You and the lady have your thing, and it’s not my place to get involved. Sorry.”

I was trapped. I could have turned and run, and it would have fit my character, but I didn’t think that would go over well. Something else was going on here, and I had an itch forming in the part of my brain that tells me something unpleasant is about to happen.

“I know who you are, son.” He moved back to the wall and leaned against it. I wondered if he minded dirtying his expensive suit. “Or rather, I know why you’re here.”

“Oh, and why is that?” I could feel the IT guy from the bank fading from my features.

“You’re here to kill me. I don’t know who hired you, though I can guess.”

The IT guy was gone. I changed stance and my heart rate quickened in preparation. I remained silent, waiting for him to tell me what the near future held.

“This is an impossible task for you. Just an FYI, in case me beating on you didn’t clue you in.”

“I’ve had people suggest that before.”

“Sure, but I’m a different kind of challenge. And I think you know that.” He put his hands in his pockets and smiled. “Luckily for you, I have a better idea. I’d like to hire you.”

This was a surprise. I dropped whatever shred of pretense I was holding onto. “My employers don’t appreciate it when I switch sides.”

“If you do what I ask, I can guarantee you steady work and solid, regular payment. We’re always looking out for new talent.”

“Like your goons?”

He nodded. “Sure, but you provide a more specialized service, one that’s hard to come by. You’ve failed so far but I suspect that’s more because you weren’t told what to expect than due to any failing of your own. Our enemies are inept and incapable of planning anything properly.”

“Enemies like the waitress?”

“Exactly. She’s a god with an eternity of experience and the best she can come up with is to hide in a diner and call you to do her dirty work. It’s pathetic.”