Chapter 14 Zaria #2
Now that—that, Zaria understood. She wasn’t about to say as much, though.
She didn’t want Kane to know her. How she felt about the divine.
How heretical thoughts scurried across the surface of her mind whether she invited them or not.
She was already damned, was she not? If magic was unnatural, then surely she was beyond saving.
“I have always thought it best,” she said haltingly, “not to have expectations of anyone save yourself.”
Kane tilted his glass in her direction. “I would agree.”
He didn’t seem inclined to expand on that, and Zaria suddenly didn’t know what to do with herself.
She didn’t want to sit down—that, too, felt like giving in—but she also didn’t want to hover in the middle of the room.
Heart thrumming in her chest, she made a slow circle around the perimeter, coming to a halt at the end of the sofa. “I’ve changed my mind about the drink.”
Kane’s harsh brows lifted in suspicion, but he inclined his chin. “Glasses are over there.”
Poor hospitality, Zaria thought, but she made her way to the counter nonetheless. Her hand was unsteady as she poured the whiskey, causing a few drops of it to splash over the rim. She wasn’t a fan of alcohol, but she needed it to take the edge off, if such a thing was possible.
She was made of edges, and Kane of razor-sharp points.
No matter how many deals they struck, Zaria couldn’t shake the idea that they were in no way meant to fit together.
Not even for a short time. And yet here they were, a con artist and an inventor, combining their wildly different skills in hopes of committing an impossible crime, adjusting to accommodate each other’s corners.
“So,” Kane said as she perched on the edge of the hard-backed wooden chair opposite him, “what makes you think Cecile Meurdrac knows anything about primateria sources?”
Zaria took a sip of whiskey, wincing as it burned the back of her throat. “What do you want with the necklace from the Exhibition?”
“We’re not talking about me.”
“Then we’re not talking about me, either.”
To her surprise, Kane smiled at that—really smiled, instead of that wry mask he usually wore—and said, “Fine. I want the necklace because if I don’t get it, lives will be on the line.”
“Whose lives? Yours?”
“No. I don’t know.” Kane’s smile disappeared. “That remains to be seen.”
“Fletcher’s?” Zaria said.
She knew she was right the moment Kane’s jaw tensed. He tried not to make it obvious, and it was an admittedly subtle shift, but Zaria saw it all the same.
“Why would you say that?” he demanded.
Because, Zaria thought, she was familiar with the brand of desperation that came either from needing to save your own life or the life of someone close to you.
But she only said, “Who else is there? You don’t strike me as someone with many trusted friends.
So if it’s not your own life you’re worried about, it must be Fletcher’s. ”
“And you think I’d risk everything for him, do you?”
“Yes” was her immediate response. “I’d do it for Jules.” She was doing it. “He’s like family. I can tell you and Fletcher are the same.”
Kane pushed a breath from between his teeth.
He set down his glass with one hand, clawing through his hair with the other.
At the same time, something in his face darkened further.
It was a haunted look, reminding Zaria oddly of the way her father had looked on his deathbed.
Like he was being destroyed from the inside out.
An unidentifiable twinge shot through her, snatching the air from her lungs.
It was the face of a man who was trying to fight, but deep down had already accepted his own fate.
“Does Fletcher know?” Zaria asked, though she suspected she already knew the answer.
“No.”
She nodded slowly. “Someone’s threatening his life, and you didn’t think it pertinent to tell him? That’s fucked-up, Kane.”
“It’s none of your goddamned business.” His teeth were suddenly very prominent in the dim light. “Especially given that you’re doing the exact same thing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come now, Zaria. You think I don’t know about Ward’s ultimatum?”
Zaria felt her cheeks heat. “I’m giving George time to tell Jules. I wasn’t even supposed to know—it shouldn’t come from me.”
“Somehow I doubt Julian would agree.”
“It would kill him to know his father kept this from him. I’m still hoping George does the right thing.”
“But it’s better if you keep it from him, is it?”
“At least Jules’s life isn’t in danger,” she hissed, even as a sick sensation unfolded in her stomach.
Kane’s eyes glittered. “That remains to be seen. You think working for the kingpin is safe? He kills his own, Zaria.” A pause. “Sometimes I do it for him.”
Her mouth went dry. She tried to swallow, but the muscles of her throat seemed to have stopped responding.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was.
To learn both that even being part of Ward’s crew didn’t keep you safe from him, and that Kane had been involved in killing his own associates.
He had an undeniable air of danger about him, but he didn’t strike Zaria as a murderer.
“Is that why you came to me?” she said eventually, voicing the question that had been weighing on her all day. “Did you know what was at stake and that I’d be easy to persuade?”
Kane shook his head. “No. I mean, I knew George Zhao was in trouble, but that’s not why I came to you.
I came to you because you do good work. For all I knew, you didn’t care what happened to the pawnbroker and his son.
All I’m worried about is getting this damned necklace and saving Fletcher.
Understood? You only need to worry about your role. ”
“And will my life be in danger as well?” Zaria demanded.
“No,” Kane shot back. “He has no idea you exist. You have no reason to be afraid.”
Her chest tightened. “When you say he, do you mean Ward?”
There was a beat of silence. Kane worked his jaw.
Eventually, he sighed, the mask seeming to fragment and fall away from his face.
In that moment, he was not a thief, not a con artist, and not a kingpin’s lackey.
He was just a young man sharpened by fear and swathed in desperation, his expression as transparent as the glass walls of the Crystal Palace.
“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Yes, I mean Ward. Mad as it may sound, he cares for me, and he wants that necklace more than anything. He doesn’t know you’re helping me, but even if he did, you’d still be safe.
I swear it. Fletcher is his way of keeping me in line, that’s all.
” For a heartbeat, Kane seemed almost uncomfortable.
Then he stood, went to grab his coat, and threw it on with considerable drama.
“It’s about time we left to meet Cecile. ”
Zaria spoke without truly intending to, the words slipping out in a rush.
“Cecile used to work with my father. There was a time when he was obsessed with finding a primateria source, but he gave up and destroyed all his research. I’m hoping Cecile might remember what he learned, because I haven’t a clue where to start looking.
And I’m… I need it. I can’t go on this way forever, and what will happen to Jules if I die? He’ll never escape this hell.”
Kane blinked, seeing her admission for what it was—an offering. One painful truth exchanged for another. “You’d do anything for your friend.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
“So would I.”
“I know.”
They stared at each other, strangely hesitant in the face of mutual understanding.
Could you truly be so terrible, Zaria wondered, if you were willing to lay down your life for another?
If you cared about someone enough to want to give them the world?
Kane Durante may have been mysterious, but he was no enigma.
He simply wore his pain like an undercoat, donning layer on layer overtop.
“It’s hard,” Zaria whispered, “to care about someone you don’t deserve.”
She swore she saw Kane recoil and feared she had let her guard drop too much.
But then his shoulders sagged, and he lifted his eyes to hers.
They weren’t shadowed anymore; rather, they were the color of warm honey, the irises ringed in green.
“If I can steal this damned necklace, Ward will cut Fletcher loose. He’ll free him from this life I dragged him into—a life he’s far too good for.
How he’s managed to stay good despite everything, I haven’t a clue, but what I do know is that I need to make sure it never breaks him.
” The column of Kane’s throat shifted as he swallowed, the inked symbol there standing out in stark relief.
Vulnerability pinched the corners of his mouth.
“Help me make sure it doesn’t break him. Please.”
The breath fled Zaria’s lungs. When she’d agreed to work for Kane, she’d assumed his motives were selfish.
Just another criminal after something precious, prepared to take down everyone in his way.
Now, though, he seemed human. Someone she could relate to whether she liked it or not.
If she was in Kane’s place—if Fletcher had been Jules—wouldn’t she do whatever it took, no matter the cost?
The answer came readily.
“I’ll help you,” Zaria told him, and meant it. “But first, take me to Cecile.”