Chapter 34 Kane #2
Now he understood. Ward had read Zaria in a way Kane had failed to do.
If the kingpin was good at anything, it was understanding people.
He predicted their steps and guessed at their desires with shocking accuracy.
He’d assumed Zaria was going to betray Kane, hadn’t he?
That was why he’d referenced Itzal Mendoza’s penchant for deception. That was why he’d wanted her dead.
Kane barely glanced at Ward, though. His focus was on Zaria.
If Ward had backed her into a corner, then Kane was the one who held her there.
The mere sight of her sent his rage surging to near-apoplectic levels.
She stared defiantly back at him, willful and tight-lipped.
It was the very expression he’d become so familiar with.
But where she’d always been unflinching in his presence, this time she recoiled from what he said next.
“Didn’t make it very far, did we, Mendoza?”
Kane heard the deadly, absolute calm in his own voice, and understood her reaction. He sounded softly condescending. Utterly unfeeling.
He sounded like Ward.
Zaria looked past him to the door, seeking an escape where they both knew there was none. Meanwhile, Ward watched them with mild interest, eyes glittering in the dim.
“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have betrayed me first,” Zaria said, almost too quietly to discern. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have if you’d gotten the chance.”
Kane took a step forward. His brain felt disconnected from the rest of his body. Like somebody else was coordinating the movement and he was merely along for the ride.
“I thought about it,” he said, deciding honesty would cut deepest. “But in the end, I couldn’t do it. Not to you.”
He couldn’t tell whether Zaria believed him. Something like pain sparked behind her eyes, though it was gone before he could be sure he’d seen it at all.
“I had no choice,” she said. “Kane, the necklace, it’s—”
“Powerful.” This from Ward, staring at them from behind the trinket.
He held it in front of his face, which was set in a hungry expression.
The stone glinted in the candlelight as it swung back and forth, back and forth.
“Yes,” he continued, perhaps in response to Kane’s bewilderment.
“Very powerful, in fact. You see, it’s a primateria source. ”
It all made sense then. Revelation after revelation struck Kane like physical blows.
Why Ward had been so desperate for the necklace and why the stakes seemed so high.
Why Zaria had agreed to help him and why she stuck around despite her apparent desire to be anywhere else.
Kane had thought himself in control when this whole time he’d been at the center of a game he hadn’t fully understood.
He felt sick. Sick right down to his very core, until anger bloomed to replace it once more.
That was when he finally relaxed. Anger was a feeling with which he was familiar. Anger he could trust.
“Anyone who knows what the necklace truly is would understand why I wanted it,” Ward said, a response to Kane’s unspoken question. “So I couldn’t very well steal it myself, could I?”
It struck Kane as a foolish thing to say. Ward didn’t do anything himself regardless.
“You’re not even an alchemologist,” Zaria spat. “What use is it to you?”
Ward pivoted slowly in place. “What use is it? What use? You of all people should know the power of a magic source, Miss Mendoza. In the hands of a skilled alchemologist, the possibilities are limitless. In the hands of a man such as myself, well…” Ward paused to clasp the necklace around his neck.
It looked rather odd there, a little too ostentatious, perhaps, but he slipped it under the fold of his collared shirt.
“Some say a primateria source not only lends magic to the user but also brings power to the possessor. I’ll admit I became very intrigued when I heard one was discovered in Ireland, and even more so when my sources revealed it had become part of a piece of jewelry in George Waterhouse’s display.
“I was put out, you know,” Ward said to Zaria, “when your father didn’t manage to find one.
I had my eye on him, and he let me down.
I considered hiring him, forcing him to continue his search, but he was rather a disaster of a man, wasn’t he?
So much gambling. Far too much debt. A difficult child to deal with.
Not to mention his reputation for being…
less than trustworthy.” The kingpin scoffed.
“And so I hired Cecile Meurdrac instead.”
Kane couldn’t help watching Zaria’s face as Ward spoke. She paled ever so slightly, her mouth tightening further, but did not reply. Smart of her.
“Anyway,” Ward said, straightening with businesslike haste. “I think we’d best be getting on with it. Ah, here’s Master Collins.”
Kane turned, abject horror flooding him as Fletcher appeared in the doorway of the workshop.
“Fletcher,” Kane snarled. His heart hammered against the cage of his ribs, threatening to escape. “Get the hell out of here.”
But Ward beckoned Fletcher inside. His pleasant smile was back, wide and dangerous. “Isn’t this convenient! Thank you for coming, Collins. It saves me having to track you down, and I do so love efficiency.”
Even Zaria had gone pale, understanding what his arrival could mean. Only Fletcher himself was unaware, Kane realized in dismay. His friend surveyed the room in confusion, taking in the scene before his gaze came to rest on the kingpin. “What is this?”
Kane made a final, desperate attempt. “Fletcher, go.”
Fletcher raised a brow, tilting his head at Ward as if to tell Kane, Careful.
Amusement played at the corners of the kingpin’s mouth. “He doesn’t know what’s going on, does he? Oh dear. Canziano, I think you’d best explain.”
“Explain what?” Fletcher took a step back. “Kane, what’s he talking about?”
But Kane couldn’t speak. Didn’t know that he would ever be able to speak again. He gave a helpless shake of his head as Ward pointed his gun directly at Fletcher’s chest.
He had no idea what would happen next. If Ward was only threatening Fletcher or if he truly intended to kill him. After all, Kane hadn’t completed the task, had he? He’d failed to steal the necklace. And although Ward had gotten it in the end, he was not the kind of man who forgave inadequacies.
Ward clicked his tongue. “Don’t move, Master Collins.
If your friend won’t explain, I suppose I’ll do the honors.
You see, when I told Kane to steal the necklace, we had a little deal.
He succeeds, and you get to go free, no longer obliged to work for me.
He fails, and… well.” Ward twirled the gun between his fingers, demonstrating his absolute ease, knowing what it would do to Kane. “You die.”
Fletcher’s lips parted. His eyes widened, then narrowed. Bewilderment and disbelief traced every line of his face as he turned to Kane. “That’s not true.”
It was a statement, but there was a hint of questioning to it. As if part of Fletcher knew there was every possibility Kane would have betrayed him like this. As if he knew better than to trust him fully, even now.
“I—” Kane began, then cut off. He could feel his insides fracturing piece by piece. Could see Fletcher’s sheer horror, and over his friend’s shoulder, Zaria’s dismay. She’d frozen in place, watching the scene play out. Watching Kane break his best friend’s heart.
Just as he’d always known he would.
The pale light of hope in Fletcher’s eyes dissolved as he watched Kane struggle for words.
What was he to say? It wasn’t as though he could defend himself.
He was guilty, guilty of it all. Trapped between the boy he’d betrayed and the girl who had betrayed him.
Watched by the man who had murdered his parents, stolen his life, and squashed what little goodness he’d once possessed.
But this wasn’t entirely Ward’s fault. Kane had known better. He had known all along that he would hurt Fletcher, and he had done it anyway.
“I only wanted you to be able to leave this place.” He forced the words out with difficulty. They sounded mangled, scratchy, like nails scraping wood. “I brought you here, and I only wanted to free you.”
When he met Fletcher’s eyes, he regretted it.
Kane had never seen such rage on his friend’s face.
Fletcher’s expression was tense, cold. Empty.
It was an expression Kane only knew from looking in the mirror.
He’d never in his wildest dreams expected to see such wrath in the good-natured gaze he knew so well.
“How many times have I told you, you don’t get to decide what’s good for me?
” Fletcher hissed. “I told you I didn’t want to leave.
I told you. And you never, ever listened.
Somehow you couldn’t fathom the idea that I might want something other than what you wanted for me.
” He swallowed, his throat shifting in a way that looked painful. “Fuck you, Kane.”
Kane couldn’t feel his limbs. He couldn’t feel anything at all. Pieces of him were splintering, falling away. First Zaria, then Fletcher. They were stripped back, leaving him bare. Vulnerable.
Perhaps this was merely the way he was always meant to be. Bitter and broken, with nothing and no one save Ward.
“Terrible, isn’t it?” Ward murmured, though Kane had the sense that he was enjoying this. That he enjoyed watching as everything was ripped away from Kane so he would be forced to rely on the kingpin alone. “He runs a good con, my boy. I’ll give him that.”
Kane gave a jerking shake of his head. “I’m not your boy.”
Ward ignored that. He leveled the gun at Fletcher, false sadness in the line of his mouth. When he spoke, however, it was to Kane. “We had an agreement. You knew what would happen if you failed.”
“You got what you wanted,” Kane croaked. He felt so very ill. It scraped against the shell of his already-empty chest. He’d been turned inside out and scooped clean. “You got the primateria source. He gets to live.”
“That wasn’t the deal. You were to bring the necklace to me, and you didn’t.” Ward’s eyes shifted to Kane, then narrowed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Kane grasped his own gun with trembling hands, pointing it at Ward. He’d grabbed it almost without thinking. “Don’t you hurt him.”
“Kane,” Fletcher snarled, the single syllable laced with a fear Kane didn’t deserve.
Ward laughed, a genuinely surprised sound. “You make any move to pull that trigger, and by the time you do, Master Collins will already be dead.”
Kane’s wild gaze found Zaria’s again—just for a moment—and he watched the rest of the color drain from her face. He wondered what his own looked like.
“Canziano.” Ward’s voice was sharp now. “Do not move.”
Kane didn’t move.
“That’s what I thought,” Ward said, the calm lightness returning as quickly as it had fled. “Now put the gun down. Control your emotions. I taught you better than this, didn’t I?”
Kane did not put down the gun. He thought about what he’d said to Zaria the night before he’d first kissed her.
I dream of killing him, you know.… Sometimes, when I watch other people die, I imagine they wear his face.
Resentment flared in Kane anew, intertwining with a wild energy. He felt unstoppable. Time ticked to a halt, and consequences ceased to mean anything. When he spoke, he scarcely recognized his own voice.
“You think you can shoot before I do?”
It was as much a challenge as a threat, and in his periphery, he saw Fletcher blanch. Ward, however, frowned. “Stop this, Canziano.”
“Answer the question.”
“Do I think I can shoot before you do?” The kingpin gave another harsh laugh. “Of course I do, fool boy. You should have seen how quickly I shot your traitor parents. Now, say goodbye to—”
But Kane never heard Ward say Fletcher’s name.
He shot first.