Page 46 of Obliterated
The embosser squats on the desk like a silent accusation. Proof Joyeus can make and unmake identities. Decide who lives here and who doesn’t.
Tass whistles. I glance over. She’s crouched beside a shelf with tags, lifting a black boxy contraption I have seen a few times before.
“A working camera,” she confirms my thoughts, voice low. “Sami fixed it up for me. Showed me how to use it. We can take pictures and he can put them on the computer back at the Watchers’ castle.”
She lifts it, lines up the shot.
The flash pops, sudden and blinding. We both freeze, hearts thundering, blinking like fucking owls.
“What the fuck was that?” I nearly fucking growl.
Tass grins, feral, hugging the camera to her chest. “That was so cool!”
“Careful,” I growl. “That thing’s dangerous.”
“Yeah,” she smirks, staring lovingly at it. “But now we can show people what she’s hiding.”
I glance back at the embosser and the fake tags scattered around it. Proof. Or a death sentence, depending who sees it.
“Make some more pictures and then pocket it,” I mutter. “We should leave.”
She does as I say, while I keep my eyes closed for the fucking flash. After, we reset everything, shut the drawers, make sure every paper is in place, and then we leave the office.
By the time we slip back into the night, are back on the wall, Joyeus’ rooms look untouched.
But my head’s buzzing, ribs aching with every breath, because I know what we just saw changes everything.
Tass shows me the camera when we get back to the hotel where Kieran is, grinning like a wolf. “Happy fucking birthday to Kieran. This’ll get her sentenced before he turns eighteen.”
“You know he’s twenty,” I mutter.
“Yes, but this will get him out of that stupid deal.”
I don’t reply. I don’t grin back.
Because it’s not enough. Not yet. We’ve got the machine on film, proof she’s running her own press, but my gut says this is just the surface. Joyeus is too careful, too greedy. There’s more buried under the silk and gold, more rot behind the perfume.
We’ll show Roe. We’ll get him to look. But I know to my very core that this won’t be what brings her down.
This isn’t the end.
It’s just the beginning.
Chapter eleven
Max
Thenextnight,wehole up at our usual spot at the bar. The place’s packed tonight, noise thick, drunks slamming mugs and singing off-key on the crappy music.
A perfect cover for the talk we’re having.
And a perfect reason for me to keep my eyes on that filthy fucker from last night. The one who crawled out of Joyeus’ room like he belonged there.
He’s loud at the far end of the bar, loud enough that heads turn when he laughs. Boastful. Boisterous. Too fucking comfortable, that ridiculous goatee fucking mocking me. He’s somehow tiedto the shit we found. I know it in my bones, but I don’t have all the pieces yet.
Idoknow those beady rat eyes of his keep tracking Kieran as he darts back behind the bar after greeting us, pouring drinks, serving his customers.
And I don’t like it one fucking bit.
