13. Settling Debts #3
“Maybe the lordly arrogance that apparently attaches itself to titles is making me as stupid as Vellast,” Gabriel smiled, and it felt sharp and feral.
“But I think we can win. I think we can take everything that bastard has and watch him choke on it. And I find—” He paused, tasting the truth of it. “I find I want that. I want to fight.”
Miles’s hand found Gabriel’s, fingers interlacing with a grip that spoke louder than words. “Then we fight.”
The simple declaration settled something in Gabriel’s chest, a knot he hadn’t realized was there, unraveling into something that felt almost like peace.
They sat in the wreckage of their rented room, bloodstained and exhausted, and for the first time since that damned summons had arrived, Gabriel felt like they were moving forward instead of just reacting.
“We should get dressed,” Miles said, though he made no move to release Gabriel’s hand. “If we’re going to war, I’d prefer to do it in trousers.”
“Speak for yourself. I’ve always thought you’d make a fetching berserker.” Gabriel gestured at Miles’s bare chest, visible where his robe gaped open. “Very intimidating. The chest hair alone would scatter Vellast’s hired swords.”
Miles snorted, but the sound was watery, still too close to the edge of shock. “What’s the plan? We can’t exactly march up to Halebourne Hall and challenge him to a duel.”
“The same plan as last time?” Gabriel stood, pulling Miles up with him. “We know someone who might have ideas about how to handle a lord who’s become... inconvenient.”
***
An hour later, dressed and fortified with a quick breakfast, they returned to Gardmore’s Restorative Services. It looked different in the gray morning light. Less sinister, more tired. A building that had seen too much death and grown weary of the view.
Viz Gardmore met them in the brokerage office, his skeletal frame draped in the same impeccable black suit Gabriel remembered from their last visit. The undertaker’s pale eyes tracked over them with clinical assessment, lingering on the fresh cut at Miles’s hairline .
“Gentlemen.” Viz’s voice rasped like parchment sliding over stone. “I don’t recall scheduling an appointment.”
Gabriel dropped Vellast’s ledgers onto the brass-caged counter with a thump. “We need to kill a lord.”
Viz didn’t blink. His gaze moved from the leather-bound books to Gabriel’s face, then to Miles, then back to the ledgers. One long, chemically-stained finger traced the embossed crest on the cover.
“Again?” The word carried the weight of profound exhaustion.
“Different lord this time.” Gabriel crossed his arms. “Lord Paray Vellast of Halebourne. You left him to his own devices last time, and he’s abused your grace. He’s sent assassins after us twice now. The first batch attacked us at Rookgate. The second batch decorated our inn room this morning.”
“Sloppy. Public. The Regent hates public messes. But that alone isn’t enough.” Viz pulled the ledgers toward him, flipping open the top volume. His eyes scanned the neat columns of figures, the damning record of human misery reduced to profit margins. “These are his?”
“Liberated from his personal safe.” Gabriel watched Viz’s expression shift. Subtle, barely perceptible, but there. Recognition. Calculation.
“Can you do it?” Miles stepped forward. “Can you get the clearance we need? The same arrangement as before—top cover from your contacts, clean resolution, no legal complications?”
Viz was quiet for a long moment, his thin fingers drumming against the ledger’s spine.
“My contacts work on behalf of certain... interests. Interests that align with the Regent’s value of stability above all else.
Lord Vellast’s recent actions show an increasing recklessness that can be characterized as destabilizing.
He was tolerated only because Goldmar knew how to be discreet.
” He paused, something like distaste crossing his cadaverous features.
“Left to his own devices, Vellast, apparently, does not.”
“So, you can make it happen,” Gabriel pressed.
“I believe so.” Viz pulled the second ledger toward him, scanning its contents with increasing interest. “These records—they implicate more than just Vellast. There are locations here. Safe houses. Holding facilities.” His finger tapped a particular entry.
“This one’s in the Cinderways. This one is near the Brine Market.
At least four others are scattered across the city. ”
“Operations that will need to be shut down,” Miles said, “Simultaneously, or the warning spreads.”
“Precisely.” Viz straightened. “I’d need to rally other cell leaders.
Coordinate the strikes. This isn’t a single-target elimination.
It’s a network dismantling. I can have the Eyes verify these locations within the hour.
The Hands can be staged by dusk.” Viz studied them both for several long moments.
“Vellast’s operation is repugnant and needs to go, but be aware that the well for covering up assassinations of lords is a shallow one, and this would be your second dip. ”
Gabriel tried to look determined and serious and not like an urchin asking for another bowl of gruel.
Miles stepped forward, placing his palm flat on the stack of ledgers.
“With Madaze, we had testimony and circumstantial evidence. This?” He tapped the leather binding.
“This is Vellast’s handwriting. Dates, names, amounts paid for human beings.
We’re handing you a confession bound in calfskin.
Your interested parties won’t need to take our word for anything. They can read Vellast’s own.”
Viz’s thin lips pressed together, considering, then sighed.
“Very well, but there won’t be a third trip to this well for a long time, Miles.
We strike at nightfall. A coordinated purge.
I’ll assign Cell Four to the Docks. Cell Nine can handle the Cinderways.
You two should support Cell Nine; your talents for—”
“No,” Gabriel interrupted.
Viz paused.
“We’re taking Halebourne Hall.” Gabriel’s voice was light, but he felt flat and hard as slate. “Center mass.”
Viz’s expression flattened. “That would be inadvisable. Halebourne is fortified. Vellast will have guards, wards—”
“I don’t care. The man is stupid and lazy. We took these ledgers out from under his own nose. We can do this.”
Miles put a hand on his arm. “Gabriel, I understand the desire to confront him, but—”
“No, you don’t understand.” Gabriel cut him off, though his tone softened at the concern in Miles’s eyes. “That man used me as a plaything for years. He never even recognized me when we met at his party. I was nothing to him. Furniture that could scream.”
The room fell into uncomfortable silence. Viz’s fidgeting with the ledger stilled. Miles’s hand tightened on Gabriel’s arm .
“This isn’t about tactics,” Gabriel continued more quietly.
“It’s about looking him in the eye one last time.
Making him see me—really see me—before the end.
He already knows we took his papers. He already knows we’re coming for him.
What practical difference does it make if I deliver the message personally?
We are as good as anyone else you could send. ”
Viz studied him for a long moment, his expression shifting from exasperation to something closer to understanding.
Gabriel maintained his gaze unflinchingly.
He’d spent too many years being cowed by men who thought they owned him.
He wasn’t about to start again now. He wasn’t asking for permission; he was informing them of the itinerary.
Miles cleared his throat. “We won’t go in alone. Genna’s already involved. We will call her in to provide support. And we have…acquired certain resources now. Enough to hire competent backup.”
Gabriel suppressed a smirk. There was a delicious symmetry to it—funding Vellast’s destruction with the man’s own gems. The lord had built his fortune on human suffering. Only fitting that wealth should purchase his end.
Although, come to think of it, if Vellast killed them tonight, he’d just take the diamonds back off their corpses. The only way to truly steal them was to turn them into something Vellast couldn’t touch.
“Perhaps,” Viz finally said, tapping the ledgers against his palm, “perhaps a distraction would be useful. Vellast is a stupidly emotional beast and might be thoroughly occupied with you while we move on his operations. I think you’re right.
If he’s dealing with you, whether you succeed or not, he’ll be too sucked into his personal rage to think about warning the rest of his operation.
And if you die trying—” Miles made a dismayed sound at Viz’s bone-dry tone, “—we’ll send a follow-up crew to finish the job after they’ve finished their first objective.
We’ll be spread thin tonight regardless. ”
“Was that so difficult to admit?” Gabriel allowed himself a small smirk. “I’m always happy to be useful.”
“Tonight, then.” Viz confirmed. “It will take that long to rally the cells, brief the leaders, and secure clearance for coordinated raids. Be at Halebourne by the tenth bell. We’ll handle the rest.”
Gabriel risked a glance at Miles. He hadn’t exactly workshopped the “suicidal distraction” pitch with his partner before tossing it onto the table .
There was that familiar crease between his brows, the one that usually preceded a lecture on statistical probabilities or reckless endangerment.
But the lecture didn’t come. Miles just pressed his lips into a thin line, looking like a man watching a train wreck he was contractually obligated to ride.
He wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t stopping it. Later. They’d talk about it later. Gabriel held his gaze a moment longer, waiting for the nod. Miles dipped his chin, a twitch down and up, and Gabriel turned back to Viz.
“Tonight,” Gabriel confirmed. “Besides, I have other plans for the day.”