Chapter 14 #2
I feigned a smile. “He just takes our business very seriously. No time for fun.”
“There’s always time for fun,” Dante murmured. I glanced toward the doorway, wondering if I should just call it a night myself.
Dante spoke again. “You know, I could show you the office. We could go through some of Bria’s old notes to see if she left any clues about the identity of the buyer or the financier.”
When I looked at him, his eyes were bright blue and hopeful.
Now that I could see him closely in full light, I found he was classically handsome.
The dimple in his cheek as he smirked added a charm to his powerful presence.
Like he was used to having the whole room’s attention, but for now, all he noticed was me.
“That would be so helpful. Thank you.” I smiled. Perhaps I’d read his cues wrong. Perhaps he truly wanted to help me after we’d exposed a liar in his organization.
He grabbed our drinks and beckoned me to follow him farther into the boat, down a hall extending from the doorway opposite the side Max left from. Rooms branched off on each side. Machinery and maintenance rooms with an office at the very end that wrapped around the entire front end of the boat.
He leaned into the kitchen, where a group was working a cleaning shift. “We’re going to be in the office working on something. Don’t bother me for any reason.”
They blinked at him, then me, before nodding.
The windows of the office stretched all the way across the stern of the boat, but the crimson curtains were drawn for the night.
A bulky, mahogany desk with many drawers stood in the center of the room over a rug so plush that our steps were silent.
Built-in cabinetry lined the left wall, each door and drawer with a lock of its own.
My eye then caught on something out of place in the ornate room. An arsenal of weapons stolen from the enforcers. Surge guns, Sleepers, daggers of various colors, and an enforcer arm—just the arm.
“Those are curious things to display in your office,” I mumbled.
Dante chuckled. “Snatched a few things here and there, and kept whatever came across my desk that I enjoyed. This has always been my little corner of the ship to keep my collectibles. Want to try the arm on?”
“Not really…” Before I could deny him, he was already slipping the bracer over his shoulder, snapping the gauntlet to his forearm. The metallic arm came to life immediately, glowing a strange blue.
He stretched the hand out to me, and I nervously slipped my fingers between the cold metal. They clamped around my wrist and tugged me hard. Dante spun me as I fell toward him, catching me with his opposite arm.
“Imagine all that power at the end of your fingertips. Guns, smoke, grenades, strength, and fire…” He pulled me closer to his chest, his chin lowering as he said, “It feels right. You know what I mean?”
I had absolutely no idea, but I was officially disenchanted with his performance. My hand had naturally found a place on his chest, and I let my Siphon sneak into his body briefly, curious as to what I’d find there. There was no Archetype in his bloodline.
“You said Bria left some documents in here. Shall we find them?” I’d play nice until I got what I wanted out of him.
He lifted me to my feet and beckoned to the desk chair. “The place is yours to scrounge. Bria threw some of her stuff in here when she arrived. She might have left some kind of receipt for your mother’s passage.”
I didn’t spare him another moment of my attention.
While he played with the arm, I shuffled through drawers, searching through documents of accounts, payouts, various port-affiliated documents, but nothing dated from the last week.
Whoever managed the last drop hadn’t recorded anything—and I wondered if the lack of payment was the reason it had been kept off the books.
A logbook, filled with different handwritings marking a different season, recorded each payment made to the houseboat from various investors, past buyers of my artifacts. One name came up more than any other—Damien Antonin.
There were only two locations continually noted: Driftend and the River Split. The dates lined up with the times I’d sent the bodies, going back to the day we started this unfortunate business.
“Why would the buyer want someone in the Fissures to donate bodies if they just go back into the New City? Why not just send them across the canal?” I asked Dante.
There was no reason to believe the bodies were taken anywhere else.
Not when the financier, the donor, everyone else was within the city limits. Surely the buyer was in the city, too.
“Have you ever tried to cross one of the bridges from the Old City to the New?” Dante asked.
“No.” I’d thought about it at one point, but it was futile. “They don’t let anyone through the gates unless they work across the canal or have a permit. They like to keep the two separate.”
“Exactly.” He paused his exercises, starting to breathe heavily.
“For anyone who buys black market relics, this is an obvious smuggling route, and one that functions like a well-oiled machine. We’ve moved things between sides of the city for years.
All the artifacts you’ve gathered, drugs, anything.
It’s simpler, and safer, to send them outside of the city and then put them on a boat back into Valveron, where the North Docks serve the Districts and the Academy. ”
I kept searching through the papers. The further I dug, the longer the dates stretched, and the more meaningless the information became. My attention roamed the room, searching for anything else.
“What about the lockers?” I asked. “Did Bria keep anything in her cabinet?”
“Nothing in there besides personal items.” He continued to punch the air without looking at me. Was this his idea of impressive?
“I still think—”
He set the hand down on the desk, curled in a fist. “It’s a hard no, I’m afraid. No one searches a private locker besides the boss. Do you remember who the boss is around here, Nina?”
I swallowed. “You’re the boss.”
“That’s right.” The metal hand relaxed, sliding across the veneer to meet mine, still resting on a folder stuffed with paper. “I might be willing to take a look for you myself, though. Would you like that?”
I nodded, suddenly aware of the shut door, the way his touch had turned predatory, the glaze of drunkenness over his eyes. Bria had prepared me for men like this. I just had to distract him and find my way out. Back to Max, even if I’d bruised his ego earlier.
“I’d be very happy,” I said, reaching for my glass while keeping his gaze locked on mine. My fingers nudged the drink off the desk, sending it spilling all over the plush carpet.
Dante jumped back, swearing at the mess.
“Hell, I’m so sorry, Dante. I’ll clean it up!” I jumped out of the chair to pick up the glass pieces.
“Don’t… don’t bother. You might slice yourself, and there’s one too many Cursed on board for that.” He knelt and took the shattered glass from my hand. “I’d hate to startle him.”
“Would you get me another? It was such good gin.” I placed a hand on his knee for emphasis.
“Of course.” His smile was wide. He liked the idea of getting me drunk. I hadn’t read his cues wrong at all, just his timing. He was more patient than other men, I’d give him that, but no better than the scoundrels in the Fissures. They all played the same game.
As soon as he left, I went to the lockers, using the Forge die in my pocket to unlock the metal clasp inside each handle. It took three tries before I found Bria’s. The ivory scarf she usually had draped around her neck was hanging on a hook—and my mother’s shawl was hanging beneath it.
There were boxes of jewelry and a purse full of coins—my coins—but I wasn’t here for money. There were letters written in a strange hand that didn’t belong to Bria. I snatched one of them and read through the contents quickly before Dante returned and found me snooping.
Dearest Bria,
I miss you terribly. It’s been so long that we’ve been separated, but I know the time apart is coming soon to an end. Every night, I think of your rich hair in my fingers, your red lips around my—
I winced and skipped down a few lines.
I’m pleased you’ve found a sponsor so you may attend the Academy this fall. All your hard work is about to pay off. This final drop, as you’ve claimed in your previous letters, comes at a convenient time for all of us. A time of new beginnings and opportunities to create a new world together.
The financier is shutting down the Fissures, which means we will continue our trade with the Districts until he cuts that supply, as well.
The opium is ready and packed, so there should be no delay in our pay for the next few weeks.
Damien has been impatient, and I can’t wait to drop the leech from the payroll as soon as you get into the Academy. One less hoop to jump through.
I’m only hopeful these dropouts don’t drink the cabinet dry before we can make port near Valveron, as it’s taken a considerable amount of liquid oblivion to deal with them. At least the fools know how to follow orders.
We will keep an eye out for you. I’ll have men posted in Driftend, ready to bring you to the houseboat. Travel ahead of the drop, and let our usual supply lines do the work. You’ve worked so hard, down there on your own. Now it’s time to come home to us safely, and we can finish what we started.
Long live the Architect,
Dante Piazzo
I shoved the letter in my pocket and quickly shut the locker doors before Dante returned. He clearly knew far more than he was admitting and was far closer to the buyer’s schemes.
Dropouts. Opium deals. “Long live the Architect”… There were so many open roads leading from this point, I didn’t know which to follow first.
“Nina.” Dante spoke my name with a tone of disappointment. He was standing in the doorway, a fresh drink in his hand. “Did you try to open the locker?”