Page 106 of One For my Enemy

“Well, I suppose I should have known,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head and returning to his tablets. Lev glanced at the thin leather cuff around Eric’s wrist, taking stock of it before redirecting his attention to Eric’s regrettably unpunched face. “The noble ones are always hiding something, aren’t they?”

“I suppose,” Lev permitted.

After all, he wasn’t wrong, though Lev doubted Eric Taylor knew much about nobility.

“So,” Eric said, continuing as he worked. “I take it you’re the new buyer, then? I understand your need for secrecy,” he remarked, glancing up briefly. “I have a bit of a proclivity for it myself, but still, you might have mentioned it was you when we arranged the meeting.”

Lev shrugged. “Can’t be too careful.”

“You’re early, though.” Eric gestured to his unfinished assortment of tablets. “Just as impolite as being late, in my opinion.”

“Well, certainly can’t have that,” Lev said, and added, “So. Who’s your supplier?”

“Ah,” Eric said, not taking his eyes from the notes he was scribbling; a code of sorts. Numbers and symbols, details about sales and inventory. “Can’t tell you that, obviously. This is sort of a ‘money talks’ situation? As in, I don’t.”

“Right,” Lev said, taking another step. “Not even to apologize, I imagine.”

Eric laughed under his breath. “For what?”

“Well, you just don’t have a particularly good track record, do you?” Lev said, and Eric’s eyes narrowed, though he didn’t look up. “You know,” Lev continued, musing aloud, “before I came here, my employer specifically made a point to tell me you were something of a… oh, what was the word she used,” he mused, considering it. “I believe it was ‘chauvinist.’ Or ‘narcissist’? Possibly ‘flaming trash pile of toxic masculinity’—I don’t know, it all sort of blends together—”

“Excuse me?” Eric asked, glancing up. “Last I checked, I was the one who had something you wanted, asshole. If you’re not interested in being civil, you obviously know where to find the door.”

“You know, I do, actually,” Lev agreed, “and funnily enough, I’m not too terribly interested in civility, so thank goodness for that. Unfortunately, I do have to make one quick swap with you before I leave, so—”

“Swap?” Eric echoed, finally turning to face Lev. “That’s not how this works, okay? I set the terms, and you—”

Lev’s hand shot out, circling Eric’s throat.

“I,” Lev clarified, “am taking over from here, Eric. I’d apologize, but—” He shrugged. “I’ve come to learn time is a highly precious thing.”

Eric opened his mouth, struggling to speak, and Lev sighed.

“Right,” he reminded himself. “Time is being wasted.”

A quick little shot of power to the base of Eric’s throat was more than enough, and once he’d gone limp, Lev permitted him to fall to the ground, nudging him aside. He bent, checking Eric’s requisite lack of pulse, and then removed the leather cuff from his wrist, rising to his feet to pick up one of the tablets.

Right on schedule, there was a knock at the door. Lev gathered the tablets, eyeing them briefly, and then tucked them into his pocket, sealing the office behind him and crossing the expansive marble foyer to the front door. It was locked, of course, but unguarded in any of the important ways. Eric, unsurprisingly, had been underprepared for dealing with witches.

“Yes?” Lev said, pulling the door open to find a man in a crisp grey suit.

“Eric?” he asked. “We spoke on the phone.”

Lev nodded and pulled the door open, gesturing him inside.

“Shouldn’t take long,” he said. “Sort of a ‘money talks’ situation, isn’t it? As in, we don’t need to.”

The man paused, considering Lev, and frowned slightly.

“I thought I was here to meet with Eric,” he said, eyes beadily darting to the door, and Lev offered a smile, twisting his fingers to lock it from afar.

“Eric is otherwise occupied,” he said. “I’ll be taking it from here.”

ACT V: KILL YOUR JOYS

“See what a scourge is laid upon your hate!

That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love,

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