20. Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty
Rook: Chess match tonight?
I closed my phone and tucked it in my pocket as I inspected the categorized and tagged items laid out across tables in the warehouse. Gray walked me through them, pointing out what they’d found and some things that had yet to be identified.
“Email me photos of those,” I told him. “I’ll figure out what they are. Get me a list of the rest of them so I can price them.”
I strolled along the tables, guessing the value of the items in my head.
This lot was worth at least four million.
I’d been doing this long enough that I could guess which items might be illegal, and a few more would turn up with my research.
Those would fetch a much higher price than the others.
I mentally listed which of my regular clients would want first pick and ranked them.
New shipments always set my head whirring.
My phone rang, and I glanced over my shoulder at Gray, who stood talking to one of the warehouse workers, then picked up to answer.
Unknown number.
“Austin here,” I answered, unsure of what to expect on the other end of the line.
“Austin,” said an upbeat man on the other side. “This is Wesley Lake. I’m running for a seat on the—”
“Yes, of course,” I said, switching the phone to my other ear and moving even further from anyone who might hear. “What can I help you with?”
“I’d like to set up a meeting, if you have time this week. I’ve heard about your work and I thought we should get to know each other. It’s important for me to know all the magicians of influence in the city.”
A trap.
That was my first thought.
“What have you heard?” I asked.
“Some of my allies in the election have talked about your nightclub and the charities you support. It’s wonderful to see people of status giving back to the magicians’ community in Ashbruck.
” He paused, then lowered his voice. “I understand you also engage in transactions of historical and magical significance with private clients.”
Almost certainly a trap then, but one I’d stand in willingly if it meant I could suss out whether this man was actually a threat.
“Of course. I have an opening for a meeting later this afternoon around four o’clock. You can come to my office.” I did not have an opening in the afternoon. I’d planned to spend all day and night at the warehouse, but Gray could handle it without me.
“Great,” he said. “I know the address, so I’ll see you then.”
He hung up the phone and I sighed, striding across the room to Gray. He looked up, and when the other employee saw me coming, he made himself scarce.
“I have a meeting with Wesley Lake this afternoon. Clear anything else off my schedule.”
“You got it,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said. His eyebrows jumped. His mouth opened and closed. I rarely offered gratitude, and he witnessed it with surprise, then decided not to mention it.
***
Wesley was younger than Emmett. I suspected he was even younger than me.
I vetted him before this meeting and learned that he gained a foothold in the Boston Council when he was nineteen, learned the ins and outs of politics, and came here a year ago to climb higher on the political ladder.
Blonde and lanky, he reclined in the chair across my desk with complete ease, but I recognized the glint of ambition in his eyes.
His political platform was as Gray had said—strengthen the magicians’ position in the supernatural world rather than Emmett’s goal of improved interspecies cooperation. Wesley Lake wanted each of the supernatural peoples to stay in their own lane, and he ran an entire political campaign on it.
“I’ll get right to the point, Austin,” he opened with. “I’m aware of your questionable business practices. You run a good front with Avalon and the galas and legitimate sales, but you’re well-known enough that all of that doesn’t hide your actual business.”
Behind the desk, I did not flinch, did not blink. I waited for him to continue, quietly calculating whether he would prove an ally or never walk out the doors again. Killing a Council candidate would put me in a precarious position. I would avoid it if I could.
“I don’t care about any of that,” he continued. “You have real power, real influence in this city. If I want to accomplish my goals, I need the big players on my side. It’s my understanding that you’re the biggest, so I’m here to ask for your support when voting time comes.”
A full minute passed as I pretended to consider it.
“Let’s say what you’re telling me has any truth to it,” I said, leaning forward on the desk with my elbows. “I don’t give a damn about the other magicians in this city, aside from how they can serve my own goals. My question, then, is how voting for you benefits me.”
“Emmett’s fluffy goals of everyone getting along and putting aside differences and shitting rainbows and butterflies is a pipe dream and an embarrassment. Legislature that solidifies that position weakens all magicians, and you have the most to lose.”
I considered that and realized he was right.
Emmett’s Council goals did not serve me, but cutting our people off from everyone else and a leader willing to turn a blind eye—or even enhance—my own goals would give me more power over magicians.
Wesley would build the illusion of more protection for our people while actually weakening our position in the supernatural world, and with fewer options and tighter laws, I’d be stronger than ever.
“I’m still listening,” I said.
“I will make sure you lose nothing. No one will even look in your direction, and I can discreetly funnel Council matters that might be of interest to you into your business. Consider it a door into the Council itself without any of the political maneuvering required.”
Premature agreement showed a weak spine, so I only nodded and said, “I will consider your offer and be in touch.”
“We both know the importance of doing whatever it takes to accomplish our ambitions,” he said as he stood to leave. “Consider how dirty you’re willing to get your hands to make it happen.”
“And your hands?”
“Could probably use a wash,” he joked, but his flashy golden boy smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Call me when you decide.”
You should do it.
The dead started up the moment the door clicked shut.
“Why is that?” I muttered.
He’s shady like you.
“Shady sounds like some back-alley dealer. I am a businessman.”
We’re just saying he’s your best choice for an ally.
That Emmett guy is going to mess this up for you.
If you spend too long considering this, you’ll miss the other important things.
“What important things?” I asked.
The Prague shipment will be here soon.
The masked man is watching someone new.
You never answered that text message.
I almost laughed at the last one. They just couldn’t help but insert themselves into everything with Rook, like obnoxious spectral matchmakers. Except I didn’t laugh because I realized what they had said right before that.
“Who is the masked man watching?”
We think he’s watching Emmett Graves.
Their pronouncement split my attention down the middle. Protect myself from the killer or let them eliminate another threat to my position in Ashbruck? Perhaps I could resist intervening a little longer. I clearly wasn’t at the top of their hit list, or they would have made a move already.
“What else do you know about the masked man?” I asked them.
He followed you home again three nights ago, but then he started hanging around Council buildings, especially the magicians’ office.
“And you’re just now telling me this?”
We’ve been busy. We don’t know why he shifted his attention.
“Probably because Emmett is somehow a bigger threat than I am to whatever he is trying to accomplish. Find him, find out more about him, and report back to me.”
Bossy.
“If you want me to continue entertaining you with interruptions in my bland existence, you’ll do as I say.”
You’re lying. You like the pretty one too much.
“I swear to God I will sit at this desk and do paperwork until I’m dead—nine more times. Don’t test me.”
Fine.
Thus far, the victims were mostly Council people—Blackwell, Kathy, Emmett. I couldn’t imagine how Pope and I were connected. One more fucking thing on my never-ending list of things to deal with.
Rook.
veilknight.
Wesley Lake.
The Death collection still set to arrive from Prague, and if I were lucky, the grimoire.
A killer whose intentions were unclear.
Too much all at once. The list was getting out of control.
I needed a distraction.
10 PM. I won’t lose this time.
Rook: You will, but I can think of a few ways to make you feel better about it.
I adjusted myself under the table and opened my laptop to check my email.
Gray sent me ten pages of things that had already been cataloged, and I matched them against the list the seller had originally sent, verifying that everything was there.
But the more I tried to focus on one task, the more I felt the rest of them swirling around me like a storm. Soon, something would have to change.
***
Pricing the items kept me busy until ten minutes past when I was supposed to meet Rook. I was never late.
Stress was unraveling me.
When I went upstairs to call him and apologize, I opened the door to find him already seated at the chessboard, half-dressed and drinking my scotch. He passed me a glass the second I crossed the room.
“You look like you need it.”
I gulped down the entire thing and winced at enduring the burn all at once.
“You can’t just waltz in like you live here,” I said, trying very hard not to lose my attention in the grooves between his abdominal muscles. I could trace each one with my tongue and—
“Yes, I can. Now sit your ass down and have another drink.”
“Bossing me around in my own home too?” I quirked an eyebrow, sat across from him, and passed him the glass for a refill.
He handed it back to me and the overhead lights caught the pale amber liquid that matched Rook’s row of chess pieces. He made his opening move with no preamble.
“What kept you so long?” he asked without looking at me. His eyes were fixed on the board, several moves ahead whirling in the darkening blue.
“New shipment at my warehouse,” I answered, moving a pawn. “A huge lot came in from Russia this week, and big shipments are always a nightmare to organize.”
“Sounds boring.”
“And your work is thrilling?” Our eyes met across the board.
“It’s steady and predictable unless one of my fighters dies in a match. That’s a hassle.”
“Don’t hold a grudge. You have no idea how much it cost me to clean up your mess at Avalon.”
He smirked at me with a knight in his hand. “Are we going to bicker or play chess?”
We did not speak for the next hour and twenty minutes as I gained control of the board, only to get a false sense of victory before I lost spectacularly.
“Bloody hell!” I roared, my fingers itching to overturn the board. “How? How? You’re cheating.”
“I don’t need to cheat. Three-time state champion and conqueror of you.”
The voices murmured something behind me, as if they’d been holding their breath this entire time and finally had something to say about it. I ignored them.
“Unbelievable. I should kick you out.”
“You won’t.” He brushed his leg against mine under the table. “You’re a sore loser, but I did promise I’d make it up to you.”
Despite my defeat, I fought a smile as he slipped beneath the table and unbuckled my belt.