The Sandman (6 page)

“No. But she should throw them
all
out,” Mirren answered.

Rook swore under his breath.

Mirren sighed. “Let’s just say Rook’s friends from the black market have realized the value of Maze City.”

Rook stumbled, but Mirren held him up.

“Can’t Maisie handle them?” Vince asked.

“She’s trying. For all her bluster, she hasn’t the nerve to kill.”

Maisie had almost killed Didier Lambert, so she was likely capable of it. But then again, Lambert had been trying to kill Coll at the time, so it had been more defensive than anything.

Rook swore again. That’s why he’d introduced Maisie to Viv. She
could
kill if necessary.
Had
killed.

Mirren led him up a curb to a wide circle of small, white tiles in front of a revolving door that jangled a bell when spun. Inside the coffeehouse, she dropped him into a seat at a small round table next to Viv, who patted his knee and made a
tsk-tsk
sound.

A couple of the round tables had been pushed together to accommodate their group. Harlen was there, sunk in his own misery of bruises and nightmare blood. Maisie was arguing with him about something.

“No, it’s
my
city,” she said.

Eleanor sat nearby, one hand fisted on the table, appearing ready to fight at any moment. Considering how the rest of them were faring, she might just have to. Rook chuckled at the idea, in spite of everything. Maze City defended by Harlen’s mom. She could probably do it, too.

“We found a body just outside the city,” Vince said as he grabbed a chair, swiveled it around, and straddled the seat.

“A survivor,” Rook added, voice hoarse.

“Well, isn’t that timely?” Viv smiled. “Corentine has asked for a meeting. Your friends here don’t yet trust me to handle it, so they were waiting for you to return.”

God, Corey.
Her presence meant the dead body and the meeting were probably related. He really couldn’t handle this right now.

“I have to wake.” The only audible word was
I
.

But the bell by the door jangled again before anyone could take pity on him. Felt like it was jangling inside his skull.

He shifted his gaze to Corey as she walked in. They’d run together for a while back in the day. She’d dealt the silver; he’d skimmed from the top of her stash. Her dark hair was in the slickest, tightest ponytail he’d ever seen. Had to hurt. And it seemed she’d gotten rid of her shredded jeans and gone for a tight, all black getup.

Corey was talented. Could sense weakness, for one. Knew how to prey on it, for another. And her timing, as always, was impeccable. He and his friends were weak at the moment.

“Hello, Mal,” she drawled.

Rook didn’t have the energy to answer, but he managed to sit back in his chair and stretch out his legs.

“Hello, Corentine,” Viv said in that smooth way she had—classy and dangerous. She used to scare the shit out of him.

Corey flicked a glance over to her but returned her attention to him. “Can we go somewhere to speak privately?”

He was pretty sure he’d fall over if he tried to stand again.

“You wanted a meeting,” Viv said with a small flourish of her hand. “This is it.”

Maisie huffed. “This is
my
—”

Rook waved her silent and narrowed his eyes at Corey, trying to look like a boss, but maybe just looking wasted. Corey knew him wasted.

“We were friends once,” she said to him, seeming offended.

Friends
meaning they’d screwed each other, mostly when high. But they hadn’t really been friendly when doing it—not before, after, or during.

“This has nothing to do with friendship,” Viv said. “This is business. Say your piece.”

Vibrations of Corey’s frustration rippled through the waters. A little theatrical hurt dampened her eyes. “Fine.”

Rook nodded for her to get on with it. Jordan was his only concern right now.

Her expression hardened. “Fine,” she said again and then took a deep, preparatory breath. “You’ve got a nice place here. Very nice. You were always connected. Knew how to play to the angles.” She paused, as if waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, her nostrils flared, but she continued. “But the secret is out now. This Rêve. This city—”

“Maze City,” Maisie said.

Still, no one believed it was a dreamscape.

“Maze City, yes. Everyone can see its potential. Everyone wants a corner of their own. Just think what it could be!” She slanted a conspiratorial look at Harlen and Maisie at the other end of the table, then glanced over at Vince to include him and took an instinctive step back. “Some are willing to pay. Some will trade. Some will fight for it.”

Rook mentally added,
Some will kill for it
.

“Which are you?” Viv asked, and it occurred to Rook that she too was in the midst of negotiating for a place in Maze City. Demonstrating her value.

“
I
am a trader,” Corey said. “I offer protection.”

Rook knew Corey would also have no qualms about demonstrating the need for protection to make her point. Hence the body.

“I don’t need protection,” Maisie said.

He dropped his gaze to the table. Found himself smiling at the wood grains going through it, the knots, and the initials scratched into its surface: ML + SC. Cute.

The truth was, Maisie would need more protection than ever. As talented as she was—and her attention to detail in a dream was awe-inspiring—she was not invincible. There were other talented people Darkside, and they would play her weaknesses and, ultimately, fight to control her. Corey here was merely the second to try. Didier Lambert had been the first, and that hadn’t gone well, either. In the world underwater, just like in the waking world, real estate was at a premium.

“Corentine,” Viv said. “Were you involved in the murder of one of the black market survivors?”

How like Viv to get to the point. And clever wording—
involved
.

“No, I was not,” Corey answered. No lie tainted the dreamwaters.

He glanced over at Viv, who twitched her eyebrows at him. She didn’t believe Corey, either.

The question and answer was revelatory just the same. It meant that as soon as Corey had arrived in Maze City after the brutal trek across the Scrape, she had initiated or was approached by someone else to organize this proposal. That way a body would be found and Corey would be able to claim innocence, but she could also promise protection. In the black market, they’d call this a Blind Deal. They’d made quick work setting up a network of people, each with tasks geared to a goal, yet ignorant of the other parties involved. Basically, the right hand didn’t know what the left hand was doing so that Corey could tell the truth.

Corey smiled. “But I’m fairly confident you can expect the violence here to escalate without some kind of protection.”

Rook snorted.
No shit.

“I’ll just kick you out,” Maisie said. “Easy. You can protect yourself in the Scrape.”

Rook sighed. Corey was the messenger. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to shoot the messenger. And Maisie wouldn’t solve the problem by kicking everyone out, either. Now that these black market revelers knew that Maze City existed, they’d just come back more coordinated than ever. These were people who were used to getting what they wanted.

An idea sparked in Rook’s sluggish brain. He rejected it, but the idea came back stronger, brighter: maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that the black market revelers came back here.

Corey frowned, her gaze becoming more intent on him. “You’re different. You’ve gone soft. No, not soft exactly.
Scared.
”

She was reading him with her Darkside talent. It used to unnerve him, but now he was just tired.

“Oh dear Lord,” she said, eyes widening. “You’ve fallen in love. Really, Mal? You? With your history? When she finds out…?” She left her threat hanging there, as if his love would be left hanging, too.

But Corey was getting it wrong. Yes, he was worried about Jordan. Scared for her. But not scared that she’d discover his unsavory past.

“When she finds out,” Corey said again, gently this time, like an old friend might, “I’ll be here with the silver to numb the pain.”

Her talent for discovering weaknesses made her a successful drug dealer.

“Want me to kill her?” Vince showed his bloodstained teeth. “I’m still buzzed from the Scrape.”

The Scrape didn’t “buzz” anyone who was sane.

Rook jerked his head at Viv, who said, “We’ll consider your offer, Corentine.”

Corey ignored her and spoke directly to Rook. “I look forward to hearing from you. Please remember that I don’t judge.”

Rook grunted with disgust and waved for her to get out, wincing at the sound of the door.

Harlen spoke first. “She going to be a problem?”

Rook shook his head.
Not in the slightest.
Corey had tried, had found the target, and yet, had missed widely. But that wasn’t the point.

He took a breath and relaxed into the burn that would come with speaking. “These survivors are extremely talented revelers.” He coughed slightly to clear his throat, but it just made his chest burn like hell. “And Maze City is tremendous motivation.”

Maisie slapped the table and deadpanned, “We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

Rook smiled in spite of himself, and she grinned. Sometimes Maisie could crack a good joke at the right time, and just now she’d done it for him. She loved Jordan, too. And yeah, Corey was, in fact, a terrorist.

Talking was too difficult. Rook shifted his gaze briefly to Viv. She nodded, as if she’d come to the same conclusion he had. She’d probably thought of it within the first five minutes after arriving in Maze City.

“With the black market gone,” she began, “its revelers need a way to sustain their livelihoods. If they aren’t handled, and quickly, the violence will escalate until you find one of your
friends
dead outside your city. Someone is trying to play you. I recommend you change the game. That’s the only way to control it, and them.”

He was still turning over his idea in his mind. Some of these people were vicious, out for themselves only. Killers, even. They had no conception of a greater good. Like that merc that Fleight had sent after Mirren and Vince.

Rook tried to clear his throat again. “Not terrorists,” he croaked. “Mercenaries.”

He got blank looks for a moment before Harlen sat back in his chair, eyebrows lifted in surprise. Mirren’s mouth was slowly tugging up, and Vince was licking his teeth.

Maisie relaxed her shoulders. “You mean…?” Her brow furrowed. “But they’re bad.”

Lots of people were bad. Rook had been bad once. So had Maisie. In fact, the only one who was all good at this table was Harlen, and at the moment, smeared in black blood, he looked capable of anything. Probably was.

Harlen leaned forward again, his gaze intent. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

The more Rook thought about the black market thugs, the more he thought they were the way to go. Maisie wouldn’t be at the mercy of a bunch of Darkside terrorists if the terrorists belonged to her.

Maisie shook her head. “I can’t let stuff like…like—” she couldn’t seem to fill in the blanks “—happen here. Not after what I did when I worked for Lambert. I can’t hurt anyone like that again.”

Rook looked to Viv. Everyone at the table would need to get used to her if this was going to work.

Viv gave him a small smile. “I believe Malcolm is suggesting that we find a way to leverage your city for the
cooperation
of these very talented revelers. And many of them are very talented.
Very.
” She addressed Maisie specifically. “Would you consider allowing them a place here, with any restrictions to business activity that you impose, in return for their services?”

Rook nodded. Yes, that was what he’d wanted to suggest. Corey had given him the idea: they needed protection, but they would have it on their terms.

Maisie frowned deeply. “You mean allow my dreamscape to become the new black market?”

Viv’s small smile stretched up a little farther. “There are those who will prefer to take your city outright. A man was murdered in order to scare you. Few will believe this is a dreamscape at all, and once it becomes well known, they will try to control you—here, and in the waking world.”

Exactly. Yes. She’d always be in danger. She’d need ruthless protectors. Killers, even.

“We could plant Chimera here,” Harlen said. “Some of my Darkside Division.”

Rook liked that, too.

Maisie put a knuckle to her teeth. Her gaze was full of indecision.

And yet everyone present knew that Maze City had to stand.

“I have some suggestions if you’d like to hear them,” Viv said to Maisie. “As Malcolm has mentioned before, I have some experience with these people. Not to mention, my own leverage.”

Maisie dropped her hand and sighed, then focused on Viv fully for the first time. “So we just let these…
criminals
come and go from my dreamscape?”

Viv smiled. “They won’t stand for Oneiros meddling. They’ll kill anyone who messes with their bottom line. And although they may be
nightmarish
in some ways, they aren’t nightmares. We will, of course, have to
enforce
whatever restrictions you impose on their businesses.” Viv raised a finger. “I have a few people in mind to approach about that. But we’d need to act now before they make arrangements with people like Corentine.”

Rook nodded with satisfaction. Viv had this, and Maisie had both Vince and Mirren for backup in case there was more trouble.

Maisie looked straight into his eyes. “You really think—”

“Yes,” he interrupted.
“Use them.”

She gulped and took a deep breath. “Okay. You wake up now. Find Jordan.”

They both had the same worry.

“Harlen, you too,” said Eleanor.

Viv reached out and touched Rook’s bloodied hand. “Thank you.” She’d loaded the words with feeling, and it flowed into the waters, warm and sweet. “I won’t let them touch her.”