Dark Game (Merikh Book 1) (8 page)

“Hopefully nobody at the bank puts it together.”

“You're the geek who fixes their computers. Nobody suspects the IT guy of being a cold-blooded killer. But it does raise the question again: what's the next step? Do we bolt or do we try and complete the job?”

“What do you think?”

“I asked first. You're the one getting your ass handed to you so I think you should get a say.”

I gave it a thought, checking my conclusions before speaking, but I’d made up my mind in the shower. “We stay. We've still got until Friday to complete the job, which we need to do, and we've got some intel to play with now.”

“Are you focusing on the job, or the puzzle?”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Yes you do,” she said seriously. “There's some weird stuff going on out there, and some weird stuff going on in here. I get why you'd want to explore it and work out what's happening, but I need you to be focused on the job.”

“Ever the professional.”

“You'll get there in time. So, which is it?”

“A little of both, but I know what's at stake with the target.” The world she'd introduced me to was one that relied on results, and though she could use her name to open doors for me, I was the one who had to prove myself if we were ever going to build a name for ourselves. Not to mention getting killed for not repaying the debts we incurred setting up for the job. That didn’t help.

She watched me, weighing variables in her head and finally coming to a decision. “Alright, so what's the next step?”

“How long was I out for?” I realized in the shower that I hadn't checked the time – or the day for that matter – and that I might not have as much of it as I thought.

“Most of the day. The bank tried calling for the first few hours but they're closed now.”

That was less than I’d expected. “I'd like to speak to the waitress again.”

“Remember, we're focusing on the job, not the puzzle.”

“She and Trevor have something going on. He's using her somehow, and that means we can use her, too. If she knows something it can help us put together a new plan of attack. We already know how difficult it will be to take care of him at home, and I don't think storming a government building is the best course of action.”

Trevor came from old money. Though his job as a councilman didn't pay much, he lived in a mansion patrolled by armed guards, with a state-of-the-art security system monitoring him at all times. It didn't make it impossible to reach him, but it gave us a reason to look for alternatives first.

“The tracker is still alive on his car,” Mouse said. “He's at home, so except for the distillery this morning he hasn't broken his pattern. You've got an opening at the diner, if you're sure.”

“Sure is a strong word to use, but it's something.”

“I'll monitor from here.”

“No, come with me. Bring the van and hang back. Unless she tells me something truly illuminating, I'd like to swing by Trevor's place afterward and run the perimeter again. Check for alterations.”

“Aren't we getting bossy?”

“You told me to make the decision.”

“Then let's go.”

Chapter 7

Patty waved to me as I stepped into the diner. The place wasn't crowded, with half the tables filled with the after work crowd and two waitresses covering everything. Claire was in the back room. I walked to the table Patty shared with two girls I didn't know.

“You just couldn't take it anymore,” she said as soon as I reached her. “My speech got you thinking about all the adventures you were missing and you had to run, or risk losing yourself in the mindless tedium.”

“Something like that,” I replied. “I assume Stephen went crazy?”

“He was an unhappy Stevie, stomping around and raising his voice.” She turned to her friends. “See, Mark here is a company man, and we don't expect things like that from a company man.”

One of the friends, a brunette with glitter in her lipstick, leaned in to the center of the table. “So, where did you go?”

“Yes,” Patty said, “give us all the dirty bits.” They giggled at each other and looked up at me expectantly.

I had no idea what to say. What were they expecting? A sordid tale made up on the spot, or did they really want the truth, or the version of it I was going to tell them?

“Speak, idiot,” Mouse said in my ear. “They're flirting with you.”

-- I doubt it. --

“You're clueless.”

“So,” Patty said, and I realized I hadn't said anything in a really long time. “It's either too sordid for ears as young and impressionable as ours, or you had the runs.”

“You're losing them,” Mouse said.

I was sure Mouse was wrong, but I had to say something. “I don't think it's fit for retelling just yet.”

“Spoilsport,” Patty said as she brushed her fingers along my arm.

“It needs a little more finesse, but if you're still up for hearing it later I can be persuaded.” Idiot, I thought. Creepy idiot.

“Well, now that you mention it, there's a little party we’re just heading to. If you're up for it?”

“Sure.” I wasn't, but I didn't have an excuse prepared to get out of it. I could think of something later.

“Unless,” the brunette friend said, “you meant you wanted to tell her somewhere a little more private.”

“Text me the details,” I said, looking for a way out before my embarrassment started to show. “I'll be there.”

“You're not staying?” Patty said. “We're just messing with you.”

“I'd love to, but I was expecting someone to be here. He isn't here though, so I need to go find him.”

“More mystery to add to the story, then.” Patty's hand stayed on my arm, and my face was started to heat up. “I look forward to hearing it.”

“I look forward to telling it.”

I turned and retreated outside, then got momentarily confused about where I should go and ended up standing on the sidewalk like an idiot.

“You were planning on going to the alley around back,” Mouse said. She was enjoying the situation far too much. “Or are you dreaming about the lovely party you're going to later?”

“Shut up,” I replied. There was nobody on the street near enough to wonder why I was talking to myself.

“What dress will you wear, I wonder? What perfume?”

“You wanted me to be more social.”

“Much like your lady friends, I'm just messing with you.”

“They're not my lady friends.”

“Go to the alley.”

A guy walked his dog in front of the bank across the street. He pulled on the leash, yanking the animal's head forward every time it stopped to sniff something. The man muttered to himself as he walked, upset about something and taking it out on the dog.

The night was otherwise still and empty, with everyone having already gone home. The full moon hung in a cloudless sky, and the sound of trucks barreling down the highway a couple of miles away was the only thing to break the peace.

A text came in on my Blackberry. It was the address from Patty, to a place out on one of the old rural roads. I pictured the town map and tried to work out where she expected me to go, but it must have been really out of the way. A great place to have a party if you didn't want anyone breaking it up.

I moved quickly to the alleyway and ducked in, checking the gloom for danger out of habit before making my way to the rear entrance of the diner. I paused a moment to listen at the door and knocked only when I was sure there was nothing going on inside. My first attempt went ignored and I tried again, and was rewarded with the sound of the bolt sliding open within.

“Hello?” Claire said, poking her head out the door. The light from within spilled out into the dark alley and gave her a glow around her head, as though she had a halo.

“Hi,” I said. I stepped back so I wouldn't freak her out. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“This is a little creepy. You know that, right?” Despite her words, nothing in her demeanor said she was afraid as she stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind her. “What can I help you with in this dark and empty spot, away from prying eyes?”

I wasn't sure how to broach the subject. Normally I’d slide up to the point via other topics, earn her trust, and have her open up before I said something that was likely to surprise her. Here, I couldn't see a route from the mundane to the spectacular that wouldn't be obvious the moment I began.

“I want to talk about Trevor Foster and what you're doing for him.”

I expected her to look away or stammer, to show some shame at the way Trevor's goons had treated her earlier that day. Something normal.

Instead her face froze and her eyes attempted to pin me in place. She changed in a way too subtle to be seen, unless you were the object of the change, the cause and the focus.

“I don't think that has anything to do with you.”

“The man almost took my head off last night.”

“Ignore it,” she said, her brow furrowing slightly. “Go back to work and stay away from him, and everything will be fine.”

A subtle blue glow lit the alley, expanding from her and encompassing me in seconds. I felt it touch me, a million fingers sliding across my skin.

The glow vanished and Claire lost her intense stare. She folded her arms and cocked her head to the side. “What are you?”

“I could ask the same question.” Her light had felt different to the usual feel of magic, softer yet more powerful. I didn't know enough about it to speculate yet, but I suspected it was a different variety, or came from a different source.

“I asked first,” she said.

“I'm just a guy here to do a job, but there's some weird stuff happening in this town and I think you're at the center of it. I need to know what's happening and I think you can tell me.”

“Not good enough.” She stepped forward, still examining me like a bug in a jar. “You're something new, and there hasn't been something new in a long time.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

Her glow returned, brighter and more intense. A gale force wind tore at me and pummeled me, desperate to break through and into me. It failed and she frowned, and a moment later the feeling increased, doubled, tripled, until it became my entire world, a storm surrounding me, covering me, trying to enter through my mouth and nose, pushing at my eyes.

I took a step forward, ready to stop the mystical inquisition.

The force vanished, leaving the alley as empty and lifeless as it had been before. Claire took a step back, fear and surprise on her face.

“That's not possible,” she said, taking another step back and running into the door. She turned and grabbed the handle but it was locked. She was trapped outside with me and it terrified her.

I took a step back, giving her some room to breathe. “I just want some answers. I'm not going to hurt you.”

“How did he do it?”

“I really wish you'd speak in more complete sentences,” I replied. “For example, that pronoun was very unhelpful. Who is he? Trevor?”

She nodded. “He's finally overpowered me somehow. What are you?”

“We've been over this. What are you?”

She didn't want to answer so I stepped forward again, a little ashamed that I was using her fear against her.

“Beyahn,” she whispered.

“I don't know what that means.”

“I am the god of charity.”

Mouse spoke up. “That's a little weird.”

“You mean god as in deity, right?” She nodded, her head lowered as though it was something she was ashamed of. I frowned and said, “I'm an atheist.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t believe in gods.”

“My existence isn't predicated on your belief.” I could see she believed what she was saying, though I spotted something conflicting in her statement.

“So I take it that makes Trevor a god, too?”

“No. Just a man.”

“So smite him the next time he gets in your face.” I shook my head. “That's an odd thing to say.”

“You really don't know, do you?”

“That's what I've been saying.”

She allowed herself to move away from the door slightly, her eyes still roaming over me as though she could work me out the normal way after her magic had failed. “You don't work for him?”

I chuckled, hoping to ease the tension. “I am about as far from working for him as it is possible to be.”

“Will you answer a question for me?”

“If I can, and if you promise to do the same.”

She nodded. “What are you? I've never seen anything like you before.”

“It's a big world,” I said flippantly, and regretted it as soon as I saw the look on her face. “Sorry, let me try that again. I'm an assassin, sent to kill Trevor Foster.”

“I gathered as much already.”

“Really? I thought I was pretty stealthy.”

“I can see things others cannot. That's not what I meant though. What are you, that you are immune to my power?”

I toyed with the idea of lying to her, making something up that would hopefully satisfy her and get things back on track. But I didn't know where to start so I opted to go with the truth instead.

“I don't think I'm anything special.”

Mouse snorted in my ear. “You attempting modesty is the funniest thing I've heard all week.”

I ignored her and continued. “For some reason, I'm immune to magic. No idea why, and it's pretty inconvenient some of the time. Your turn: Tell me about Trevor Foster.”

Her voice dropped to a forced whisper. “Foster is the prime disciple of Garehl, the god of wrath. Garehl is a powerful god and that power flows to his followers.”

“So a priest can pick on a god, as long as he worships at the right feet.” The waitress-god nodded. “What's he doing here in Midway? For that matter, what are you doing here? Don't you have some church to haunt or something?”

Mouse spoke up. “You're not buying a word of this, are you?”

“I came to see if I could help, but I underestimated his power. I underestimated how far we had fallen.”

“We?”

“My siblings. I think we've already lost the war and we just don't know it yet. I don't know what Foster is planning but I believe I am now bound to help him.”

“There are other gods though, right? About fourteen, I guess. Ask them to help.”