Chapter 43
Malek followed the blood speckled-footprints through the door of the largest building on the lot.
Katja had gone over to Henri Bouchard’s body when they’d first arrived, but only to make sure he was dead.
Once cleared, Malek led the way into the front foyer of the building while everyone else stayed behind him in a line.
Each one had their weapons drawn and eyes out for any type of suspicious behaviour.
Not even gargoyles seemed to be here, but when Malek heard the thrum of the ring, he knew he was in the right place.
“Spread out,” Malek said. “Check the rooms.”
Everyone scattered as he asked, save for Ultima, who stayed behind Malek and watched the door they’d just entered in.
“Clear,” Natasha said moments later. The others echoed the same sentiment.
“Any idea what floor we’re going to?” William asked. He pressed the elevator button, but nothing glowed. “Shit. We’re walking.”
“Well,” Ultima said with a low groan. “Guess I’ll continue to cover the first floor.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. You all take the stairs. I’ll be the look out here.”
After conferring once again, Malek held the door to the stairs as everyone filed inside. Malek’s vision focused to a point when he heard his name again. Not from the ring, but from his crown. Someone was touching it, rubbing it, and he needed to know who.
Malek led the way up the stairs and ran as if he’d never lose his breath.
He needed to make a big entrance into the floor; that way the others could quietly fall in line behind and plan a surprise attack.
It seemed unlikely that there would be gargoyles or anyone else guarding the upper floors; the cool, calculated precision with which Anthony had disregarded Henri Bouchard, one of the best members of the cartel, made Malek think Anthony believed he was invincible.
Malek heard the low rumble of the TV and stopped on the floor. He moved toward the sound carefully by himself, while the others hid behind a section of the stairwell and waited. When Malek heard his name again, it wasn’t from the ring or crown, but someone else’s mouth.
“Malek, Malek, Malek.” Anthony opened the stairwell door, startling Malek where he stood. Anthony wore the crown, along with a smarmy smile.
“Well, come on. We’ve been waiting for you.”
Malek followed Anthony inside the conference room and spotted Caspar with his hands bound behind his back, sitting on a couch.
Flashes of colour from the TV played across his face, along with a deep sadness that didn’t lessen even as he took in Malek.
When the house on Main Street came into view on the screen, Malek understood what was happening.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Caspar said. Each word seemed to pain him. “Whatever happens, don’t listen to Anthony.”
“Oh, okay. Enough reunions. I’m done with that nonsense.” Anthony stepped in front of Malek and clapped his hands. “I want to do business now. Abdul?”
A man with olive skin and a haunted expression walked forward. He held Caspar’s jewels in his hands. Malek’s mind raced as he thought of all the ways out of this new twist.
“You want business, so let’s talk,” Malek said. “What’s the deal?”
“It’s very simple, really. Crown or Caspar? Which one do you want to save?”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. I know you have your other three items. I’m not your patriarch, but if you give me the most powerful one, I can skip that part. We can take the business out of the family and just work this way. Right, Abdul?”
Abdul nodded; he seemed unable to speak.
“So, we can have an arrangement. I keep the crown, but I’ll give it back in exchange for another one of your items when the thousand and one days have passed. With four items, that’s over four thousand days. And even you and I know there’s no way out of that contract. I’m a very, very good lawyer.”
“And what do I get out of this deal?”
“I give Caspar back his jewels. He can walk away from here and be free. You will be bound, of course. So perhaps I framed my question rather poorly. Who do you save, Malek? Yourself or Caspar?”
“Don’t do it.” Caspar spoke as loud as he could, but it seemed to take all his strength. “Don’t do it, Malek. It’s not fair, it’s not—”
Anthony waved a hand. Caspar’s limbs seemed to get heavier. He tried to speak again, but it was like watching someone drown.
“Of course it’s not fair. Nothing is fair, Caspar. If your parents had just said yes to me years ago, we could have avoided all of this.”
“Fuck you,” Caspar managed to say, then repeated it in French.
“Oh, feisty. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep my hands off him much longer. So what do you say, Malek?”
Malek sighed. There was no choice in this ultimatum, especially since he was still bound to Caspar. “I’ve come to a decision.”
“No, no,” Caspar said. “No, that’s not your choice to make.”
“Right now, it is,” Anthony said. “So what will it be, Malek?”
Malek opened his mouth, but Caspar spoke over him.
“I wish for my house. I wish for my exact house on Main Street back in working order.”
“What?” Malek asked.
“That is my third wish. I wish for my house at 27 Main Street to be standing again.” Caspar repeated it verbatim three more times. “That’s it. That’s what I want. That’s my last wish.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Do it.”
Malek nodded. It would take almost all of his strength to undo the destruction caused by the bulldozers, but it could be done.
Wood could be repurposed and nails could be hammered back into place.
As Malek raised his hands, the news reel seemed to run backward.
From the sudden gasps in the room, he could tell that everyone else was seeing it too.
The house reassembled itself over the live stream.
The reporter cried out, and when the bulldozers tried to hit the house again, the structure stayed in place.
“You can’t bring back something that’s been destroyed!” Anthony said. “That’s not—”
“It’s a redistribution of wealth.” Malek gestured out the window of the high rise to the scaffolding next door, which was now only half-standing. “You own a pile of rubble now.”
Anthony gasped and ran to the window as the rest of the scaffolding came down and crashed onto the car where Henri’s body was.
The building they were in shook from the fall, and for a brief second, Malek wondered if he’d taken too much.
When Anthony slammed his hand against the window, part of the glass shattered.
“You can’t do this,” Anthony said. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Caspar said.
He rose from the couch and snapped off his bindings.
His legs seemed weak, as if this was the first time he’d truly felt the weight of his new body, his new height, and all of his new responsibilities.
He righted himself within seconds. A natural, completely.
“These jewels are mine now. I get to make a decision about my own freedom. You and Malek can’t make it for me. ”
Anthony turned from the window and walked right into Caspar’s face. He pulled out his gun and held it by his head. “So make it, genie boy. What would you prefer? Freedom or nothing?” Anthony cocked the gun.
Malek shuddered as Caspar only stared at Anthony. He wasn’t even afraid. He was stronger and braver than Malek could even fathom, especially as he answered, “I would prefer not to make a choice.”
“So you say no? Just like your parents?”
“I’m in a state of maybe. I refuse to choose, because your dichotomy is false.”
“You’re an idiot.” Anthony huffed and started to laugh maniacally. “And I have no use for you.”
In an instant, Anthony leveled the gun at Caspar’s chest and fired.
Malek wanted to cry out and jump in the way, but it was too late.
Caspar’s body folded in half. The force of the bullet dragged him toward the window and broke through the glass.
With a final push from Anthony’s foot, Caspar fell through the glass and out into the dark Montréal night.
Malek yelled and charged at Anthony. He only managed to knock the gun out of his hand and onto the floor before Abdul held him back.
“Good, thank you, Abdul.” Anthony’s hair was amiss, but he righted it with a flick of his wrist. He grabbed the jewels from Abdul’s pocket and tossed them out the window after Caspar. “Such a shame. We could have been such good partners. Oh, well. Now it’s just you and me.”
Anthony pulled the crown off his head and held it in his palms like a prize. Before he could rub it three times, Malek’s entire crew rushed in through the conference door.