Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
“There you are! Thought you might have gone for another swim.” Dante met us on the porch of the houseboat, assessing the state of our clothes and their sudden dryness. Behind him, no one seemed to be missing Bria. Music spilled out of the open door, along with raised voices mixed with laughter.
Dante stepped in front of the revelry to steal back my attention.
“You’re a Forger, aren’t you?” I only shrugged.
He must have noticed how the question made me uneasy, because he went on to say, “You have nothing to hide here. We’re far from the Academy, and while we have rules about using bloodlines on each other, we don’t care what you have or how you got it. You’re an Archetype. Very simple.”
“Not everyone thinks it’s so simple,” I said.
He buttoned his suit jacket so that it was perfectly fitted across his chest. “Well, those people don’t have to live like we do, or they’d change their minds. Come inside. We have clear liquors, tobacco, and a fire going. You’ll warm up fast.”
My first assessment of the vessel had been through Max’s perspective, but it was consistent with what I’d seen on the outside.
The double-storied houseboat was as large as a nice apartment on the canals in the Fissures.
The main floor consisted of several living rooms, a kitchen, and an office I assumed was Dante’s.
Upstairs were the bedrooms, and there were plenty to hold the group of gangsters hiding out on the Main Canal.
Dante gestured at a pair of men with glazed eyes who were smoking pipes near an open window. “Tell Marcello we’re good to go.”
They looked us over, but their new boss snapped once and sent them running. Cal spoke over his shoulder. “You might get a few stares, sweetheart. We have women in our ranks, but much like Bria, they’re a bit rough around the edges. Some of us haven’t seen a pretty face in weeks.”
“They’ll look elsewhere if they want to live another day,” Max spoke, his voice low.
Dante’s attention lifted to him. “She belong to you?”
“No,” I answered for him. “We’re just… working together.”
The smuggler nodded. “Then don’t start shit on my boat.” He turned sharply, leaving no opportunity for Max to retort.
“This was a bad idea. We should go back to Driftend, make our way back to Valveron.”
“What made you so uncomfortable, Max?” I smiled, nudging him with my elbow.
He didn’t find that very funny. “You forget I can hear their thoughts, and if you knew what they were thinking about you, you’d want to jump ship.”
I caught him with his hand in his pocket, most likely with a fist around his Glamour die. “Then stop listening. I don’t belong to you. And if someone touches me, or wants to touch me, it’s none of your concern.”
He sucked a long breath, holding back whatever he wanted to say, and slid his hand from his pocket.
Dante brought us to a main living area, where a handful of men were drinking around a pool table.
Our host waved them off, and they left quietly.
He went straight to a bar pushed against the opposite wall, beside a fireplace.
Three velvet couches were placed around the fire while a crystal chandelier reflected the light of the flames.
The decor was ornate. Everything about this house on the water screamed luxury and wealth.
Obviously, I’d been in the wrong business—or at least Bria had been severely underpaying me.
“Wine or gin?” Dante asked me as he grabbed a glass.
“Gin is fine.”
“And you?” he asked Max.
“I’m good tonight,” he replied while pacing the perimeter of the room. I didn’t know what he was doing, but he was focused on something outside. Dante didn’t seem to notice, instead bringing a tray of ice, a decanter of gin, and a glass with a slice of lime adorning the edge.
“Presentation matters,” he explained, placing it all on the coffee table. “Now, why don’t we settle in and see if we can help each other.”
“I need to know where Bria sent the last woman she brought here. Where do you bring the bodies after they come to you from Driftend?” I poured the clear liquor over ice and took a sip. It was smoother than anything I’d ever had at Opal’s.
“Your mother,” he said, grinning as he watched me sip. “Yes, that was an unusual load for all of us.”
“Because she was alive?” I asked, clarifying.
He shrugged. “Exactly. We don’t typically touch that kind of thing. The dead are more compliant.”
My grip around the glass tightened. “And my mother? Was she compliant enough for you?”
“She was a saint.” Dante smiled. “Bria stayed with her the entire time, gave her medications to keep her quiet. Barely heard a peep out of her before we dropped her off at the River Split.”
I let another sip burn warm down my throat before asking, “Who did you give her to? Where did they take her?”
“I can’t give away all my secrets—”
“You said you’d help Nina,” Max murmured from across the room. “Your associate kidnapped the wrong person, then insulted you by lying about it. The least you can do for Nina is tell her the truth.”
Dante ignored him. “Regardless of who is wrong or right, I don’t know their names, and they don’t know mine.
We drop them off to a contact at the River Split late at night.
He pays us with coin and booze and opium.
As long as I get paid in that order, I don’t care what happens to the stock after it’s left my care. ”
“Opium?” Max chimed in.
The man beside me slid his stare to him. “What about it?”
“Not important. What about the financer?” I pressed Dante. “If you can’t say who is taking the bodies, then can you at least share who’s paying for them? Or how?”
Dante sighed again, running a hand through his dark hair. “The financier is out of the New City; that’s all I know. I don’t know what he has worked out with the buyer, and frankly, I’m not paid to worry about that. He sends me money, and I pay everyone a bit from the pot. Understand?”
I shook my head. “Not really. How is anyone making that much money from corpses?”
“Maybe the buyer is blackmailing him into funding the supply,” Max replied this time. “The New City is full of elite families.”
“Full of the Cursed, too. A bunch of rats, running around beneath the city. And some of them want to be good little house pets instead. Easier to manipulate when they’re so desperate to be one of the elites.” Dante smiled wide enough to reveal both canines. Max only glared at him.
Our host fell into an armchair at the head of the room. “I’d never have guessed you were the donor.” He smiled. “I mean that as a compliment. No one would assume such a beauty would be involved in such a dirty business. You look… so innocent.”
The gin was spreading quickly in my blood. I faked a laugh easily. “You’re very sweet.”
Max cleared his throat. “What about your associate? How did you get involved with Bria?”
Dante sighed. “I knew Bria from our childhood. We both came from the Fissures, but our paths diverged when I got into the Academy thanks to a wealthy uncle, and she didn’t make it.
We actually just got her a sponsor, thanks to deals we made in the last few weeks.
It’s a shame she won’t be able to attend.
I assume you met her in the Fissures, too?
” Dante spoke exclusively to me, and behind him, Max’s already sharp face was pulled into a scowl.
I ignored him. “Bria was my connection to all this. I’d gone to the pub a few times, trying to sell things to strangers in the crowd, and she overheard one of my deals.
Told me I was asking for far too little for the artifacts I’d snatched.
” A brief smile twitched across my cheek at the memory.
“She introduced me to the boat captains who were open to smuggling. Everything I did was because she made a way for me to do it.”
“She was orchestrating the entire job.” Dante sucked his cheek, thinking.
“I should have known she was involved in something deeper than the black market.”
He leaned forward, smiling. “Well, now she’s deeper than all of us, at the bottom of the canal, and you’re here.” He took a sip of his own drink before adding, “I think you got the better end of the deal, if you ask me.”
“For now…” Max murmured.
Dante finally looked at him. “Cal?” He shouted for the man, who appeared in the doorway we’d come through. “Our guest is looking a little pale. You should show him to his room so he can get some rest.”
“I’m not—”
“I insist.” Dante’s grin was filled with venom. “Nina and I have so much to discuss. I promise, I’ll take good care of your friend while you relax.”
Dante and Max held stares like they were locked in some silent duel.
Cal reached for something on his hip, resting his hand there.
“It’s alright, Max,” I said as soon as I saw the gun. “Go on. Honestly, there’s no reason for you to stay.”
He arched a brow. “No reason?”
“No.” I accidentally snapped the word, so desperate for him to get out of the room and just comply for once in his life. “Please, go. I’ll be up soon.”
“Nina—”
“Hell, man, take a hint.” Dante stood and crossed the sitting area in two strides, taking the seat beside me. “Fuck off, and don’t wait up.”
I winced. It wasn’t quite how I would’ve said it, but it did the job nonetheless. Max looked at me for something like consent, a line creasing his forehead in concern. Cal pulled the gun an inch out of the sheath—
“Go!”
Max didn’t see the gun behind him, and I didn’t want him to. If he realized the threat to him, he’d put a violent end to this entire collaboration, and I needed Dante to keep talking.
“Fine.” He glared at me before turning away, slipping a hand into his pocket. “Don’t come crying to me in the morning.”
Hell, was he really assuming that I was going to spend the night with Dante? I wanted to explain, but he severed our connection before I could. I nearly went after him but was stopped by Dante patting my knee with a gloved hand. The uninvited connection sent chills down my arms.
“Thank the Architect you got rid of him. Is he always so overbearing?”