"So what's doing, John," Trez murmured. "Why doesn't your king know what you're up to and why aren't you talking to my man Rehvenge?"
John faced off at the pair of them and then picked up the pen and wrote for a little bit. When he flashed the paper forward, the Shadows leaned in.
You are perfectly aware of what's going on here. Stop wasting our time.
Trez laughed and iAm even smiled. "Yeah, we can read your emotions. Just figured you might want to explain yourself." When John shook his head, Trez nodded. "Okay, fair enough. And I gotta respect your no-bullshit policy. Who else knows that this is personal to you?"
John went back to the pad-and-pen routine. Rehv, most likely, given that he's a symphath . Qhuinn and Blay. But none of the Brothers.
iAm spoke up. "So that tattoo you just got... it have to do with her?"
John was momentarily surprised, but then figured they could either smell the fresh ink or feel the reverberations of the faded pain.
With a quiet scribble, he wrote, That is none of your business.
"Cool, I can respect that," Trez said. "Listen... no offense, but why can't you trust the Brothers with this shit? Is it because she's a symphath and you're worried about how they'll take it? Because they're down with Rehv."
Use your head. I go all guns-blazing about her with them and we find her? Everyone in that house is going to expect a mating ceremony at the homecoming. You think she'd appreciate that? And if she's dead? I don't want to stare across the dinner table every morning at a bunch of people waiting to see if I hang myself in the bathroom.
Trez barked out a laugh. "Well... there you go. And I can't fault logic like that."
So I need your help. Help me help her.
The two Shadows looked at each other and there was a long stretch of quiet. Which John took to mean they were having a conversation gray matter-to-gray matter.
After a moment, they glanced back to him, and as usual Trez did the talking. "Well, now... since you've done us the courtesy of cutting the shit, we'll do the same. Talking to you like this puts us in a difficult position. Our relationship with Rehv is tight, as you know, and he's as personally invested in this as you are." Just as John was trying to figure out a way around all that, Trez murmured, "But we will tell you... neither one of us is picking up on her. Anywhere."
John swallowed hard, thinking that was not good news.
"No, it isn't. She's either dead... or she's being held somewhere with a block." Trez cursed. "I think Lash has her, too. And I totally buy the idea that he's working the streets for cash, and that's the only way to find him. If I had to guess, he's trying out human dealers first before converting them to the Lessening Society--and mark my balls, he's going to start inducting them ASAP. He'll want to have total control over his retail team and the only way he's going to get that is by turning them. As for hotbeds of dealing, the malls are always jumping. So is the high school, although that's going to be tough because of daylight problems for you. Municipal construction zones, too-- the vendors in those catering trucks always used to buy from us. Also, that Xtreme skating park. Lotta shit goes down there. And under the bridges-- although that's mostly homeless, bottom-feeder real estate, so the crank ratio for cash will probably be too low for Lash to get a hard-on over."
John nodded, thinking this was precisely the info he'd been hoping to get. What about the suppliers, he wrote. If Lash stepped into Rehv's shoes, wouldn't he need relationships with them?
"Yup. The big one in town, Ricardo Benloise, is pretty f**king insulated, though." Trez glanced at his brother and there was another silence. When iAm nodded, Trez turned back. "Okay. We'll see if we can get you some intel on Benloise--at least enough so you can trail his ass in the event he meets with Lash."
John signed without thinking, Thank you so much.
Both of them nodded, and then Trez said, "Two caveats."
With his hands, John urged the guy to continue.
"One, my brother and I don't keep anything from Rehv. So we're going to tell him you came to see us." As John frowned, Trez shook his head. "Sorry. That's the way it is."
iAm interjected, "It's cool with us that you're digging deep. Not that the Brothers aren't, it's just the more hands on deck, the better her chances are."
John could see that, but he still wanted to keep shit private. Before he could get scribbling, Trez kept going.
"And two, you must fully inform us of any information you get. Rehvenge, that f**king control-freak bastard, has commanded us to stay out of it. Your turning up here? Well, isn't that just a convenient way for us to get involved."
As John wondered why in the hell Rehv would tie the hands of the two warriors, iAm said, "He figures we'll get ourselves killed."
"And because of our..." Trez paused, as if looking for the right word. "... 'relationship' with him, we're locked in."
"He might as well have chained us to the cocksucking wall."
Trez shrugged. "Which was why we agreed to meet with you. The moment you texted, we knew--"
"--here was the opening we--"
"--were looking for."
As the Shadows completed each other's sentences, John took a deep breath. At least they understood where he was coming from.
"We totally do." Trez put his knuckles out and, as John gave them a pound, the guy nodded. "And let's just keep this little backroom convo to ourselves."
John leaned over the pad. Wait, I thought you said you were going to tell Rehv I was here?
Trez read over the handwriting and laughed again. "Oh, we're going to tell him you came to visit and have a meal."
iAm smiled darkly. "But he doesn't need to know the rest of it."
After Trez and John went into the back, Blay finished off his Coke and tracked Qhuinn with his peripheral vision. The guy was pacing around the bar area like he'd had his wings clipped and didn't appreciate the trim.
He just couldn't stand getting shut out of shit. Whether it was a dinner or a meeting or a fight, he preferred an all-access pass to life.
His kinetic silence was worse than cursing, frankly.
Blay got up and went behind the bar with his empty glass. As he refilled his Coke and watched the frothing dark rush hit the ice, he wondered why he was so attracted to the guy. He was a please-and-thank-you kind of male. Qhuinn was more of a f**k-off-and-die type.
Guess opposites attracted. At least on his side--I am came back in and had with him what could only be described as a male of worth: The guy was dressed impeccably, from the cut of his dark gray overcoat to the shine on his wingtips, and instead of a tie, he was wearing a cravat. Thick blond hair was cut short in the back and left long in the front and his eyes were the color of pearls.
"Jesus f**king Christ, what the hell are you doing here?" Qhuinn's voice boomed out as iAm disappeared into the back. "You slick bastard."
Blay's first response was to tighten up all over. Last thing he needed was another ride on the spectator merry-go-round, assuming Qhuinn was attracted to the guy.
Except then he frowned. Could it be... ?
The male who'd just arrived laughed as he embraced Qhuinn. "You have such a way with words, cousin. I would say... trucker meets sailor crossed with a twelve-year-old."
Saxton. It was Saxton, son of Tyhm. Blay could remember meeting him once or twice before.
Qhuinn pulled back. "Fuck is actually a comma. Or didn't they teach that shit to you at Harvard?"
"They were more concerned with contract law. Property. Torts--which covers actionable wrongs against others, by the way. I'm surprised you weren't on the final exam."
Qhuinn's fangs flashed bright and white as he truly smiled. "That's human law. They can't handle me."
"Who can."
"So what are you doing here?"
"Property transactions for the Shadow brothers. Lest you think I just learned all that human jurisprudence for my health." Saxton's eyes shifted over and met Blay's. Instantly, the guy's expression changed to something serious and speculative. "Well, hello."
Saxton turned his back on Qhuinn and came over with a focus that made Blay check behind himself.
"Blaylock, is it not?" The male extended his elegant arm across the bar. "I haven't seen you in years."
Blay had always felt a little tongue-tied in Saxton's presence because the "slick bastard" always had a comeback. And a vibe like he not only knew the right answers to everything but might not choose to let you in on the secrets if you weren't up to his standards.