Page 53 of Kings & Chaos

“Cool,” I said. “Nice talk.”

I let myself out and headed for the main theater. Drago had probably already made Willa come in some dark corner of the theater while I’d been straightening Neo out, and I wasn’t about to miss out on any more fun.

The music was loud, the lighting almost nonexistent. Someone had hung multicolored LED lights up near the bar, but other than that andA Most Violent Yearplaying on the big screen, the place was all bodies in shadow.

I scanned the masses, a mixture of leather-clad bikers from the Blades and Barbarians, rival gang members from the Phantoms and the Hounds, and a handful of sexy babies from the local colleges trying to look cool instead of terrified.

I looked for Willa, because I could pick her out of any damn crowd, but was stopped short when a wall of leather stepped into my line of sight.

“Mind getting out of my fucking way?” I had to shout to be heard over the music.

The guy took a step toward me and I realized it was Aloha, the hacker Neo used from the Blades.

He stared me down, dark eyes glaring from his smooth face. “Mind remembering who the fuck you’re talking to?”

I held out my hand. “Sorry about that. It’s dark as fuck in here.”

“No shit. I never understood why we can’t have more lights.”

“Ambiance,” I said.

“This ambiance sucks ass,” he shouted.

I laughed. “Seconded.”

He gestured to the side of the cavernous room, farther away from the speakers broadcasting the music, and we moved in that direction.

“Thank fuck,” he said. “Couldn’t hear myself think. Neo around?”

“He’s fighting tonight,” I said.

Aloha nodded. “Got the info he wanted on the dead guy. Sent a digital file, but thought I’d give him the short version in person.”

“I can pass it along,” I said.

“Not much to pass,” Aloha said. “Guy was a nobody.”

“No association with the Phantoms or the Hounds?” I asked.

He shook his head. “He’s not even from around here. Dropped out of State a couple years ago and never left town.”

“Fuck.” It wasn’t unexpected. We’d guessed from the beginning that Zachary Walsh was a scapegoat, and last night’s package confirmed there were other threats on the game board, but it still sucked to face a dead end.

“There are a couple of inconsistencies though,” Aloha said.

“Inconsistencies?”

“Yeah, the guy ODed on heroine, but I couldn’t find his connection,” Aloha said. “No sign of the money he would have used to fix either. Guy worked as a mechanic in that little shop outside of town. Money in, money out. All accounted for except for a couple of big deposits right before he died.”

Someone jostled Aloha and he gave them a look that stopped them cold.

“Sorry, man.” Just some kid trying to look tough in designer jeans and a Versace leather jacket. He held up his hands, the terror written all over his face as he realized he’d shoved one of the Blades.

A big one.

“Watch where you’re going,” Aloha growled.

“Sure! Sorry about that.” The kid scurried into the crowd.

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