Page 103 of Edge of Darkness (Night Prowler 4)
“I received a phone call a few minutes ago—just before you arrived, in fact—that the…creatures…I’m hunting have been found. At least, I know exactly where one of them is now, or will be shortly.”
This was both carefully worded bait and the unvarnished truth, as Thirteen had been informed by an email from the Chairman that the tip line he’d set up had yielded credible information from a woman named Ursula Adamowicz. A suspected Ikati was stalking a girl that worked at a little bookstore on the Baixada Viladecols. The store was closed at this hour, so the creature would either lie in wait inside, or keep surveillance somewhere nearby. Either way, the information was the most interesting they’d had in months.
But even more interesting was the way the albino reacted to what he’d said.
He jerked forward in his chair. One big, white hand shot out, lightning fast, and he curled his fist around Thirteen’s shirt collar. The albino yanked him forward so they were nose to nose across the table, and growled, “Tell me where they are or I’ll cut off your tongue!”
So—Doe’s suspicions were confirmed. This goat murderer was looking for them, too. Considering the city was crawling with mercenaries eager to get their hands on the reward money, it wasn’t much of a surprise.
“I know a dozen ways to kill a man with my bare hands, freund,” replied Thirteen in a soft voice, staring unflinchingly into the albino’s eyes. “And a hundred more to kill you with the blade stashed up my sleeve. So I’ll give you a second to decide if you’d rather fail at cutting off my tongue and have my knife embedded in your brain, or if you’d like to hear what I propose.”
The albino’s gaze flickered to Thirteen’s hands, spread flat in readiness against the surface of the table. A muscle in his jaw worked as he swiftly calculated his options. Then he opened his hand and slowly relaxed back into his chair, the flush of blood rising in his pale cheeks the only indication of his rage. His glittering gaze settled on Thirteen’s face, and he inclined his head.
Thirteen adjusted the collar of
his shirt. “Good choice,” he said, unruffled. “As I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted, if we find one of the creatures, we can find them all—”
“How?”
He smirked. “A pair of pliers. A chain saw. An electric drill. Take your pick.”
For the first time, the albino smiled. It was a carnivorous, teeth-flashing grin that would have looked at home on a shark.
Thirteen continued as though he hadn’t been interrupted by such a naïve question. “The organization I work for has very close ties with the police, so I could avail myself of them and their resources, but in my experience they’ll do more harm than good.”
He resisted the urge to adjust the patch over his eye, remembering exactly how badly his last experience with the police had ended.
“My own team and supplies are fifteen hours out. Twelve at best. This particular situation requires a much quicker response or we’ll probably lose the target, so I’d have to work fast, and alone, neither of which are optimal for my chances of success.” Thirteen’s mild, knowing smile returned. “Unless I can temporarily partner with someone who’s already here.”
He watched the albino process it. His sharky smile faded, and that muscle in his jaw began to jump again, making the ruined skin that covered it purse and pucker. “I don’t like partners,” he pronounced, ominously low.
“Agreed. But I also don’t like letting a golden opportunity slip through my fingers. I’m willing to sacrifice my personal preferences in order to gain what I want.” He paused dramatically. “And you can have all the reward money. I don’t care about that.”
Technically, he wasn’t even eligible to receive the reward money because it was the Chairman who was offering it, but the albino didn’t have to know it. But then the albino hotly snapped, “Neither do I!” and it was Thirteen’s turn to raise his brows.
Judging by the rancor in the answer, he’d offended him. He wouldn’t have thought it possible to offend a man who got his kicks squeezing the life out of farm animals, but then again, the hypocrisy of someone who posed as a priest from the Vatican while engaging in said squeezing could not be underestimated.
Thirteen drawled, “A fellow purist, eh?”
“Some things are more sacred than money,” the huge albino whispered with a lunatic gleam in his eye, and Thirteen couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.
“You see that? We’re in agreement again. This is looking quite positive.”
The albino gazed at him in silence for a long, long time, while the voice of the city at night murmured in the cool air around them.
“It’s a very simple equation,” Thirteen said reasonably, feeling the other man’s animosity like an iceberg between them, frozen and hard, the vast bulk of it invisible but far larger and more dangerous than what was out in the open. “I have something you need, and you have something I need. And…” he spread his hands open as if presenting evidence, “you already know you can trust me.”
“And how do I know that?” came the instant, ferocious reply.
Thirteen sat back in his chair and clasped his hands over his stomach. “If you couldn’t, it would be the police who’d be sitting here talking to you right now regarding the matter of one strangled goat.”
The albino spat, “I don’t know anything about a goat!”
Thirteen smiled indulgently. “Of course you don’t. And believe me, I don’t judge. But the police are a little less open-minded than I am, which I happen to know because I have quite a few friends in law enforcement. They might like to search your room for any, oh I don’t know, animal blood or hair, just in case.”
Deadly silence. A black, smoldering glower. Then, finally, the albino’s mouth quirked into an odd, pinched sneer of respect, and he nodded.
Thirteen’s smile grew wider. Then he leaned forward and began to outline his plan.
