Chapter 4 #2
He nodded. “Sutton is the seller’s agent.
He specializes in blind deals. He doesn’t know any particulars.
He doesn’t know who the client is, because he only works with brokers.
You tell him what kind of specialist you want to hire, and he finds the right candidate and connects the two of you together.
He collects an introduction fee and leaves it at that.
Whether or not an agreement is reached matters not at all to him. ”
If she understood correctly, Sutton knew two things: the name of the buyer’s broker and the name of the thief.
She was almost certain that the culprit behind the theft was a Prime, and any broker that worked with Primes would be well protected and difficult to reach.
Besides, they didn’t have a lot of time.
No, it was much easier to go after the thief.
“What should I brace myself for? The undead? Krakens? Colossal gelatinous globs hungry for human flesh?”
“Nothing like that, I assure you. Sutton and my family go way back. I do not anticipate any problems.”
“I’m bringing my dog,” she informed him. “Don’t try to talk me out of it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised.
Sutton made his lair in a sixteen-story office tower on Augusta Drive, right in the middle of the crowded cluster of retail, office, and apartment buildings that had sprung up around the Galleria.
The mall billed itself as “Texas’ largest and most luxurious shopping destination,” and the resulting labyrinth of commercial property around it was its own busy, dense microcosm.
Augustine parked in the back lot, exited the car, and held her door open.
He was back in his perfect businessman persona. Not a single strand of pale gold hair out of place. No damage on his knuckles. There was no way to tell how much of it was illusion, but she didn’t smell blood on him.
She’d taken a good look at the bodies sprawled on the floor on her way out. They looked broken. He’d put four guards in the hospital. She was amazed they hadn’t heard an ambulance wail as they drove out.
This man was utterly terrifying. And he was holding open her door. A frisson of alarm dashed along her nerves. It was delicious.
Diana stepped out of the vehicle.
Augustine then opened the rear passenger door, and she sent a light push along the bond to Lila.
The dog jumped out and took her usual position by Diana’s side.
The familiar feedback of Lila’s emotions trickled in through the bond: happiness, anticipation, curiosity, and a slight tinge of eagerness.
Lila was a young dog, conditioned to be a bodyguard.
She had personally trained Lila to respond to immediate threats and to make her own judgements.
The Doberman lacked the single-minded drive of some police canines who started whining as soon as they saw a suspect, anticipating the chase and the release of the bite.
But she had spent a long time in the car.
Lila was looking forward to a bit of exercise.
They crossed the parking lot, aiming for the entrance.
All of Diana’s senses were dialed up, keyed to Augustine striding at her side.
She noted everything in detail: the way he moved, the way he placed his feet and shifted his weight, his breathing, his scent…
Her memory reproduced that dark suit, the contours of hard muscle stretching the dark fabric.
She didn’t have to do anything about it, she reminded herself. Acknowledging it was enough.
“Who will I look like this time?” She’d managed to keep her voice light.
“Yourself.”
“No disguise?”
He shook his handsome head. “There will be no need. Sutton understands the way the game is played. He’s a professional.”
“Augustine?”
“Yes?”
“If I wasn’t there, would you have killed all of them?”
There was a tiny pause before he answered. “It would’ve been bad for business.”
Lila let out a tiny woof. Diana sent a reassuring flood of calm down the link. Yes. Spectacular, isn’t he?
They entered the lobby and took the elevator to the eighth floor. It released them into a hallway with a small reception area. The colors were brown and beige. A row of square canvas paintings lined the wall, depicting thin abstract swirls the color of cinnamon on eggshell backgrounds.
A man in his early twenties sat behind the desk, typing away on the keyboard. He was redheaded, with a pale face and thick glasses, and when he turned away from the screen, he smiled.
“Hello, can I help you?”
“Montgomery for Sutton,” Augustine said.
“One moment.” The receptionist picked up his cell and texted.
His phone clicked, announcing an incoming message.
“Please go ahead,” the man said.
Augustine turned to the left. They walked down the hallway to the third door on the right. He knocked and swung it open, not bothering to wait for an answer.
The office was large and dim. Heavy green curtains blocked the sunlight.
A cheap, mass-produced rug in matching green sheathed the floor.
In the middle of the room, a single desk of dark wood supported a laptop and a simple table lamp.
One chair behind it, two in front. No bookshelves, no plants, no decorations.
A man sat behind the desk. Her eyes adjusted to the low light, and she could pick up on his features now.
He was in his sixties, with a broad frame, made even wider by the cut of his dark suit.
His silver hair and white beard contrasted with his bronze skin, and his maroon glasses frames matched the plum color of his dress shirt.
Lila hesitated. A trickle of unease dripped down their mental link. Something was wrong with the room.
Augustine shut the door, walked up to the chairs, and held one out for her. She sat. Lila lowered herself next to her, sitting on her haunches. He took the other chair.
“Prime Montgomery,” Sutton said quietly.
The other man seemed relaxed. No apprehension in his eyes, no tension in the pose, no excessive sweating. And yet there was something about him that felt off.
“Sutton.”
Diana focused on Sutton, sinking into a deep, calm place. In her mind, a thick tree limb formed above the room. She sat on it, watching herself and the two men from above, letting her senses take in the room, process the cues, and identify the wrongness.
Sutton looked at her. “And who might this be?”
Augustine didn’t answer.
“She looks like Prime Harrison. Not a bad choice, all things considered.” Sutton squinted at her. “Given the friendship pact, it makes perfect sense. But who is that really under the mask?”
Augustine ignored him. “I’m looking for a contractor.”
The wrongness congealed. She could feel it better now. It had a definite direction, stretching across the room. She sank even deeper into that calm place where human emotions fell away, and the world was reduced to simple needs. Hunger. Thirst. Safety. Augustine.
Her attention snagged on him, on his body, on the way he sat. His scent slipped past her, waiting to be sampled. Mmmm.
“You know how I feel about discretion,” Sutton said.
“I also know how you feel about adequate compensation.”
“For a man of your resources, adequate won’t do.”
He was shaking Augustine down, the human part of her noted. She didn’t like that. A hint of danger pricked her, driving her instincts into combat sharpness.
“I’d say, for you, the compensation would have to be at least generous,” Sutton said.
The wrongness snapped all the way into focus, and she saw it, thin filaments of magic stretching across the room, with Sutton at their center like a spider.
Animals instinctually sensed magic, and right now she was more animal than not.
More than that, she was a Prime. She felt the magic, saw it, heard it…
On its own, none of those senses would’ve been enough, but combined with her power, they formed a complete picture.
One of Sutton’s tendrils spiraled up her chair. Another had made its way to Augustine, hovering just short of touching. And the third had wrapped around Lila’s throat. The dog felt it, but her training kept her still.
She leaped, landing on the table in a crouch and pressed her knife against Sutton’s throat. The filamentor held still. Lila snapped to her feet.
“Release my dog.” Her voice was low and devoid of emotion, a growl of a predator defending her domain.
The filaments recoiled.
Augustine rose and offered his hand to her. She took it. He put his other hand on her waist, and she let him lift her off the table to her feet. The brief contact with his body sent a shiver through her.
Like touching a live wire. Being close to Augustine was its own kind of ache, exquisite in a way, a promise broken before it was ever made.
She squashed the urge to stretch herself against him. Sinking that deep into her inner self was a mistake. It lowered inhibitions. Reasserting control would require a lot of effort.
“In heels,” Sutton said. “Impressive.”
Augustine let her go, and her entire body mourned.
Diana forced herself to sit and stroked Lila’s velvet head. The Doberman sat back on her haunches.
“You’re an assassin.”
“I was, at one time,” Sutton confirmed.
Filamentors wove webs of arcane energy. Unlike the mages who worked with metal wires, they didn’t kill directly. Their filaments syphoned off energy, draining their target until they fell into a stupor and killing them became child’s play.
It made sense. A retired killer-for-hire would have the contacts required to become a broker.
“As I told you last time, curiosity is a vice for someone in your profession,” Augustine said to him.
He’d moved behind her and remained standing. She was acutely aware of his fingers resting on the chair’s back, close to her neck on either side. Another little thrill. She had to stop reacting.
“Sadly, I can’t help myself. You said you were looking for a contractor?”
“An illusion mage. Scent-sensitive.”
“And not a Hester,” Sutton guessed.
“No,” Augustine said.