Chapter Fourteen
The Gin Room seemed like an entirely different place in the light of day.
Now that she knew who and what the clientele were, there was a whole different vibe.
As Marion followed Deacon, she played the mental game of, what could they be?
In the back of the room, at a small table, a dark-skinned, thin man waited.
His bulky shoulders were a little out of proportion with the rest of his body, as if there was some deformity to his stature.
He spotted their approach and his eyes shifted, as if making sure no one followed.
Deacon held out a chair for her and only sat after she had settled.
“Delaram,” Deacon greeted. “This is Marion.”
The man’s nose twitched. “She’s human.”
“She’s with me,” Deacon said coldly. “The last time we talked, you had explosives.”
“Yeah, but those were sold.”
“Can you get more?”
Delaram’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t want them, so what’s this for?”
For a moment, Deacon didn’t say anything, so Marion spoke up.
“I’m looking for my friend, and we found a very disturbing factory, so we want to blow it up.”
Shock filled the man’s face. “Excuse me?”
Deacon groaned and let out an exasperated sigh. She ignored it.
“My friend, Peter, apparently is or was the companion to Shiel Sinaga,” she continued, pitching her voice low. “While investigating her, I discovered a deed to a property upstate. So, we went and found out it was a processing plant for humans.”
Delaram blinked, his gaze darting between them. “Are you shitting me?”
Marion raised an eyebrow. “Why would I lie?”
He shrugged. “So, you’re going to blow up this place?”
“Damn straight.”
“And that was supposed to be between us,” Deacon told her, sounding a little irked. She ignored him, because they didn’t have the luxury of time. “Can you get more explosives?”
“Actually, I have a shipment arriving this evening.”
“Then I want to buy it.”
Delaram studied him. “Okay, but with one condition.”
“What?”
“Take me with you to this building.”
Well, this was unexpected. Marion glanced at Deacon, waiting to see what he was going to say.
“Why?” Deacon asked.
“You’re going to need someone who knows how to detonate it. You do it wrong, you’ll either be blowing yourself up or not blowing anything up.”
Deacon leaned forward. “I don’t know if I can trust you, Delaram.”
“Yeah,” the man sighed, mouth turned down. “I can understand that. Still. You’re going to need me.”
She and Deacon looked at one another. Guess they didn’t really have any other plan.
“Fine,” Deacon said. “We’ll leave tonight.”
They rose to leave, and Deacon held out his hand for her. Before she took his hand, she turned back.
“Can you get me a taser gun with multiple cartridges?”
Delaram blinked. “Uh. Yeah, sure.”
She smiled her thanks, then took Deacon’s hand and they were gone.
****
“Are you sure this is going to work?”
“No, but it seemed worth a try.” Deacon walked over to the intricate maze and picked up a handful of dirt. There in his hands, the soil swirled in a circle, moved by an invisible force. Her eyes widened. There in his palm, a tiny labyrinth formed.
“Is that how the larger one was created?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “I change the design every week for fight night.”
He opened his pocket and slid the maze inside.
“Will it stay that shape?”
“Not sure,” he admitted. “Most of my day trips I make sure to keep under a day.”
She hoped whatever magic existed in the dirt protected Deacon, because that night was incredibly important. The last thing she wanted to do was be fearful of his decline.