Chapter 8 Kane
KANE
Kane didn’t know how Zaria endured Julian Zhao, let alone was willing to risk everything for him.
He was a sullen creature with a holier-than-thou attitude that grated on Kane’s nerves.
It had been only a handful of hours, and already it was apparent that the current arrangement was going to make everyone miserable.
“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” Jules said as he stood in Kane’s—formerly Ward’s—office, arms crossed over his chest. Adam and Elijah flanked him, both clearly unsure what to make of the interaction.
“So I’ve heard,” Kane drawled. “Feel free to put it on a sign and take to the streets. After you’ve done what I’m asking of you, that is.”
“And you expect me to just trust these two?” Jules indicated the other two boys.
“Yes. I picked them specifically because they’re the least likely to hurt you.”
“Do you think this is funny?”
Kane shoved his unfinished correspondence aside. “That wasn’t a joke. Cromwell and Atwood are as trustworthy as they come, at least around here.”
The former winked at Jules, who stared stonily back. “I’m not hurting anyone, just so we’re clear.”
Adam shrugged, but Elijah turned his look of disbelief on Kane. “Remind me again why he’s here?”
“Debts must be paid,” Kane said, twitching his fingers as if to flick the question away. “You shouldn’t have any difficulty showing him what to do. If he doesn’t want to take part, I’m not fussed, but make sure you don’t lose him.”
Jules bristled. “Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here.”
“Convince me you don’t need to be babysat, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“We both know this has nothing to do with my father’s debt.” Jules hissed the words, stepping forward to brace his hands on the desk behind which Kane sat, legs crossed. “You’re trying to make Zaria miserable, and you’re using me to do it.”
Kane sighed, leaning to see past Jules to address Adam and Elijah. “Give us a moment.”
The two boys obliged without comment, but he didn’t miss the glance they exchanged before the office door clicked shut behind them.
“Oh, so now you don’t want an audience.” Jules looked far too smug about it.
Nonetheless, there was a light flush to his prominent cheeks, which were otherwise rather pale.
His hair, too, was disheveled—likely from a sleepless night in the building known colloquially as the barracks.
Most of Ward’s men had places of their own, but for those who didn’t, a converted factory not dissimilar to Moore & Sons had rooms available.
Although Jules was in the former group, Kane wasn’t about to let him go back to Mirko Petrov’s house.
Zaria would have plans to get them out of London faster than Kane could snap his fingers.
He could impede those plans, of course, but it seemed an unnecessary task when he had enough to contend with.
“Julian, I think you’re conveniently forgetting a key part of this arrangement.”
“Which is?”
“You piss me off, and daddy dearest pays the price.” Slowly, Kane uncrossed his legs and rose, splaying his own hands on the desk so that he and Jules were face-to-face.
It was a relatively nice morning, and sunlight glanced off the cabinet of curiosities on the opposite wall, causing the other boy to narrow his eyes further.
“Unlike you, I have few qualms about harming people. So I suggest you think very carefully about how far you’re willing to push the limits of my patience. ”
Jules straightened. “I’d say you have some qualms.”
“Beg pardon?”
“About harming people. That’s why you came after me, isn’t it? Because even though Zaria’s the one you’re angry with, you don’t want to hurt her.”
Kane had to give it to Julian Zhao—he completely lacked any sense of self-preservation.
Couldn’t he see that Kane was balanced on the edge of a precipice, teetering back and forth between restraint and unchecked violence?
He didn’t know what Ward would have done in this situation, and it was driving him mad with frustration.
It was true—he didn’t want to hurt Zaria.
He didn’t particularly even want to hurt Jules.
But you didn’t accomplish anything in Devil’s Acre by concealing your teeth, and what kind of kingpin would he be if he let Zaria get away with what she’d done?
If Kane did nothing, and it ever got out, his reputation would be ruined.
“I came after you, Julian, because I know how Zaria is. She cares about others more than she cares about herself. If you want someone like that to suffer, you have to aim for their loved ones.”
Jules snorted, but his expression was pained. “How would you know, Durante? I find it hard to imagine you’ve ever loved anyone at all.”
The statement caught Kane off guard, if only because he wasn’t certain either way.
He’d loved his parents once, hadn’t he? He’d thought he loved Ward, and he still loved Fletcher, even if the mere thought of his friend made him ache in places he couldn’t identify.
How could he be sure, though, that he loved the way normal people did?
For all he knew, his love was a twisted, wrong thing.
God, but he was tired of this boy already. “How easily you forget that you and Zaria betrayed me.”
“First of all”—Jules held up a finger—“I wasn’t even there when the actual betrayal happened.
And second of all, you can get off your high horse, because Fletcher told us about the plan you two had.
I know you weren’t actually planning to give Zaria anything in the end.
You’re not angry you were betrayed—you’re angry you got outsmarted. ”
The sound of Fletcher’s name said aloud knifed through Kane’s chest, momentarily distracting him from the rest of Jules’s tirade.
He stopped the feeling in its tracks. Shoved it aside.
“If I hadn’t killed Ward, he would have murdered Fletcher.
Zaria knew what was at stake, and she snatched the necklace anyway. ”
“She didn’t owe either of you anything,” Jules retorted. “You’d known each other for—what, two weeks? Did you seriously expect her to value your friend’s life above her own?”
“I expected her to know better than to cross me.”
Jules made a sound of unmistakable disdain. “Right. I should have known you wouldn’t be able to see reason.”
Rather than answering, Kane reached into the drawer of his desk and withdrew a weapon. To the untrained eye, it looked like a regular dark market gun, but the barrel was longer and narrower, the cylinder differently shaped. Jules recoiled, pressing his lips together.
“Do you know what this is, Julian?” The question was unnecessary—Kane could tell by the boy’s reaction that he did.
Zaria had no doubt created a few in her time.
“It’s a dart gun. It fires magic, but not in the form of bullets.
Rather, the darts embed deep in your skin.
The pain is unbearable, and they’re an absolute nightmare to remove.
You need an expert, really, or you risk leaving bits behind.
” He shrugged. “I don’t know an expert. Do you? ”
Jules said nothing. His eyes held undiluted hatred.
“I figured as much. You see, I’m not like Ward.
I’m not going to waste my time marking my men every time they disappoint me.
” Kane shoved his sleeve up, baring his forearm.
The dark, glittering tattooed x’s didn’t pain him anymore, but receiving each one had been a lesson in agony.
Had Kane been anyone else, Ward would have killed him long before he could acquire so many.
That was what a kingpin did. How he led his crew.
“I don’t have that kind of patience. I’m certainly not interested in a practice that intimate.
Instead, you see, I plan to fire this fancy toy and let them figure it out.
Some say the extraction hurts more than the actual impact. ”
It did. Kane could confirm as much.
“Is that how you’re planning to win the respect of Ward’s men?” Jules asked quietly, his disgust palpable. “Threats and violence?”
“Now you’re starting to understand.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, Jules’s gaze fiery, Kane’s as cold and still as freezing water. Both of them knew Kane had won. They wouldn’t be here had he not been certain of that fact.
At that moment, a soft knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” Kane said, not breaking eye contact with Jules. He knew it would be Tom before the man spoke.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Tom said haltingly. He wore a frown, attention flicking back and forth between Kane and Jules as he discerned the situation. “Er—I’d come back, but someone is here to see you. He said it wasn’t prearranged, but he’s quite adamant that the two of you meet at once.”
Kane let the dart gun fall back into the drawer with a clatter. “By all means, send him up. And Tommy, make sure Julian finds his way to Adam and Elijah, would you? They’re to visit a chap at the docks who’s long overdue for some trouble.”
“Indeed.” Tom held the door open wider, indicating that Jules should exit first. Jules complied, although not before shooting Kane a final glance of resentment. Kane’s only response was a tight-lipped smile.
He leaned back in his chair as the door slammed shut, releasing a long breath.
A skull peered at him from the cabinet of curiosities, its infinite black sockets a horribly apt representation of how he felt at present.
Hollow and lifeless, confined by delicate panes of glass, collecting dust. He hated it, the way Jules had looked at him.
It was true—a kingpin won respect with threats and violence.
They gained loyalty by providing protection, but that came second, not first. A weak leader was a dead one.
And if Kane wasn’t this, what else was left for him?
With that thought, he straightened his spine, barking an order for whoever had just knocked a second time to enter.
No part of him was prepared for the man that appeared.