Parking the car, I unbuckled my seat belt and climbed out of the car. Buttoning up the two buttons of my jacket, I moved to step beside Ivan, overlooking the city.
For several seconds he didn’t say a word. Together, we stood in perfect silence. There was no reason to draw too much attention. I had a horrible feeling about what will happen, and I’d rather wait for it.
Marriage wasn’t something I cared for.
“You know, many years ago I used to think the fog that encompassed the city was some kind of supernatural warning. A call to a warriors’ fight.” Ivan turned toward me. “I was five years old. It was what made that fear worthy. Something out there was bigger than me. Bigger than all of us.”
I didn’t know Ivan at five years old. I’d heard rumors about him. Again, I didn’t know the truth, and the last thing I wanted to do was speculate. All I knew was Ivan was rejected by his father, cast aside, and should have been killed.
Ivan was invincible. I believed that now more than ever. Nothing was going to stop him. Nothing and no one.
“Nothing to say?” Ivan asked.
“Never thought of the fog. Didn’t really get the chance to see it growing up. Now, I know what it is.”
Ivan nodded. “You took your time getting here.”
“You asked me to come alone, and with the threats rising, my soldiers don’t take too kindly to the thought of my untimely passing.”
“They’re going to need to get used to it. I need you to do something for me. There’s a woman—”
There it was. A job. A woman.
I should have known.
“Shouldn’t you use Victor? Or either The Beast or The Butcher? Aren’t they eating out of your pocket?”
Ivan threw back his head and laughed. “It is good you think I could get them to eat out of my pocket, but trust me, you’re very wrong.”
I doubted that. If anyone could get either or both The Beast and The Butcher, it would be Ivan. So far, keeping them both in the same place for a long time had been trying. Ivan had succeeded.
“This situation requires a delicate hand.”
Now I nearly fell over myself laughing. There is no way I’d been described as having a delicate hand. Far from it. I was the one who could cause utter destruction.
“I need you to go to a small town, Pickle Quest. There you will find a woman going by the name of Niamh Long,” Ivan said.
He opened his jacket and presented me with a file. Taking it meant I agreed to what was about to happen. Pickle Quest—I’d never even fucking heard of the town. Flicking open the file, I stared at a single picture of a woman. At first, I didn’t care to look at it. She looked fucking bland and boring, but then I noticed something else. This picture wasn’t taken when the woman was looking her best.
She had a split lip, blackening around the eye, and there even appeared to be sign of a cut disappearing into the hairline. What struck me hard was the look in the woman’s eyes. She’d taken a beating, but it hadn’t hit her soul. There was fire in her eyes. A desire to fight back. To get the hell away from what was hurting her.
“Who is this woman?” Peter asked.
“I told you, Niamh Long.”
“And you expect me to believe you’re interested in helping a total stranger?”
Ivan chuckled. “You’re right. This needs to have a delicate handle. Niamh is her actual name, but her last name is different. You might have heard of a Byrne.”
And then it all came clicking into place.
“This is Finn Byrne’s daughter.”
“If you want to get technical, she’s his bastard daughter. Slept with a few whores during his time. It would seem he got his favorite pregnant, and, well, Niamh, is the subject of that … union.”
“Someone know who she is?” I asked.
“Oh, that handiwork was done by her father,” Ivan said.