Shadow Bound
Page 24
“People are rarely what they seem to be at first glance,” I said, trying to pretend I didn’t agree with everything on her list. “It’s my job to analyze systems. It’s your job to tell me why I’d like answering to Jake Tower more.”
Her smile faded, and I wanted to take it all back. But I had a part to play.
“The apartment.” She set the fork down and pushed her plate away. “I know you haven’t seen it yet, but it’s really—”
I shook my head. “Dig deeper. You’re still throwing money at me, but this isn’t about money.”
Kori frowned, and her eyes narrowed like they did when she got irritated—a pattern I was already starting to recognize. “Of course it’s about money. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need cash.”
“Is that why you joined? For the money?”
Her frown slipped a little. “I don’t give a shit about the money.” But I’d already known that. She hated champagne and hors d’oeuvres. She preferred boots to stilettos. This was not a woman interested in wealth or social visibility. “I had my reasons.”
I wanted to hear her reasons. Badly. But if she’d wanted me to know, she would have told me. “I have my reasons, too.” And that may have been the truest thing I’d said to her so far.
“Does that mean you’re going to join? Or have I fucked this up already?”
There it was again, that vulnerability. That depth in her eyes, and the way she held her breath waiting for my answer.
“That means I’m going to give you another shot. Tomorrow. Maybe by then you’ll have figured out what carrot to dangle in front of me.”
“This isn’t a fucking game, Ian,” she snapped, and I smiled. I couldn’t help it.
“That’s the first time you’ve said my first name. And of course this is a game. Right now, you’re losing.”
She stood, hands flat on the table, eyes flashing in anger. “You can put on a suit and sit in front of a keyboard every day for the rest of your life if you want, but that’s not going to change who and what you are. You’re a Blinder, and a risk-taker. A thrill-seeker.”
I shook my head, ready to deny what I already recognized as truth—words from my own head, falling out of her mouth. But she cut me off before I could speak.
“I saw your face when you let the shadows fade around us last night, and I know that look. Darkness is in you, Ian. It’s part of you. You’re not going to feel whole until you’re free to live in the shadows of your own creation, and that’s not going to happen for you as a fucking systems analyst. But it can happen for you in syndicate service. And if you’re going to join one, you might as well join the best.”
“And do you really think the Tower syndicate is the best?”
Kori blinked, and I glimpsed something she was about to dance around, without actually denying—a trick syndicate employees learned quickly. “You will never find a better financial opportunity than what Jake is offering you. You’ll never find a syndicate with better security or fringe benefits. But if you go into this thinking you can work Jake Tower with a smile and a joke, he will roast you alive, feast on your flesh, then pick his teeth with your fucking bones.”
“That may be the most honest thing you’ve said yet.” But I felt my smile slipping. “Colorful, too.”
Kori sank into her chair again, and I watched her face as understanding bled into fear for a moment before her defenses slammed into place and left me staring at a carefully blank expression. But she couldn’t undo what I’d seen. She’d shown me a glimpse of the gritty reality beneath the shining surface of Tower’s empire, and that wasn’t supposed to happen. At least, not until I had a chain link tattooed on my arm.
“So now what?” She gripped the arms of her chair like it was all that was holding her up.
“Now you take me out on the town. Show me the syndicate in its natural habitat.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Is there anything I can show you that’ll make a damn bit of difference?”
“Why else would I be here?”
Kori sat straighter, eyes flashing again, this time with new understanding. Possibility. “You need something from him.” I could practically see the bulb flare to light over her head, and I wanted to smile. “I’m a bad recruiter. I’m a suck-ass recruiter, but you haven’t even flinched over anything I’ve said or done, and that means you need something bad enough that you don’t care what you’d have to sign to get it.”
I arched one brow at her. “I do care what I’d have to sign over. But I also know that nothing in life is free.”
She frowned, like that cliché meant more than it should have for her, and I wondered what she’d paid for whatever she got out of signing with Tower. “So tell me what you need, and I’ll get it for you.”
I shook my head slowly. “That’s not how the game is played.” Because if she knew that what I needed was her sister’s corpse, she’d try to kill me where I sat. So why was I more disturbed by the thought of being hated by her than of being killed by her?
“Fuck the game. I don’t wanna play.”
“You don’t have any choice,” I said, and fury rolled over her in waves almost thick enough for me to taste.
“Don’t ever say that to me,” she growled, her hands clenched around the chair arms so tightly I was afraid she might break them off.
Her smile faded, and I wanted to take it all back. But I had a part to play.
“The apartment.” She set the fork down and pushed her plate away. “I know you haven’t seen it yet, but it’s really—”
I shook my head. “Dig deeper. You’re still throwing money at me, but this isn’t about money.”
Kori frowned, and her eyes narrowed like they did when she got irritated—a pattern I was already starting to recognize. “Of course it’s about money. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need cash.”
“Is that why you joined? For the money?”
Her frown slipped a little. “I don’t give a shit about the money.” But I’d already known that. She hated champagne and hors d’oeuvres. She preferred boots to stilettos. This was not a woman interested in wealth or social visibility. “I had my reasons.”
I wanted to hear her reasons. Badly. But if she’d wanted me to know, she would have told me. “I have my reasons, too.” And that may have been the truest thing I’d said to her so far.
“Does that mean you’re going to join? Or have I fucked this up already?”
There it was again, that vulnerability. That depth in her eyes, and the way she held her breath waiting for my answer.
“That means I’m going to give you another shot. Tomorrow. Maybe by then you’ll have figured out what carrot to dangle in front of me.”
“This isn’t a fucking game, Ian,” she snapped, and I smiled. I couldn’t help it.
“That’s the first time you’ve said my first name. And of course this is a game. Right now, you’re losing.”
She stood, hands flat on the table, eyes flashing in anger. “You can put on a suit and sit in front of a keyboard every day for the rest of your life if you want, but that’s not going to change who and what you are. You’re a Blinder, and a risk-taker. A thrill-seeker.”
I shook my head, ready to deny what I already recognized as truth—words from my own head, falling out of her mouth. But she cut me off before I could speak.
“I saw your face when you let the shadows fade around us last night, and I know that look. Darkness is in you, Ian. It’s part of you. You’re not going to feel whole until you’re free to live in the shadows of your own creation, and that’s not going to happen for you as a fucking systems analyst. But it can happen for you in syndicate service. And if you’re going to join one, you might as well join the best.”
“And do you really think the Tower syndicate is the best?”
Kori blinked, and I glimpsed something she was about to dance around, without actually denying—a trick syndicate employees learned quickly. “You will never find a better financial opportunity than what Jake is offering you. You’ll never find a syndicate with better security or fringe benefits. But if you go into this thinking you can work Jake Tower with a smile and a joke, he will roast you alive, feast on your flesh, then pick his teeth with your fucking bones.”
“That may be the most honest thing you’ve said yet.” But I felt my smile slipping. “Colorful, too.”
Kori sank into her chair again, and I watched her face as understanding bled into fear for a moment before her defenses slammed into place and left me staring at a carefully blank expression. But she couldn’t undo what I’d seen. She’d shown me a glimpse of the gritty reality beneath the shining surface of Tower’s empire, and that wasn’t supposed to happen. At least, not until I had a chain link tattooed on my arm.
“So now what?” She gripped the arms of her chair like it was all that was holding her up.
“Now you take me out on the town. Show me the syndicate in its natural habitat.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Is there anything I can show you that’ll make a damn bit of difference?”
“Why else would I be here?”
Kori sat straighter, eyes flashing again, this time with new understanding. Possibility. “You need something from him.” I could practically see the bulb flare to light over her head, and I wanted to smile. “I’m a bad recruiter. I’m a suck-ass recruiter, but you haven’t even flinched over anything I’ve said or done, and that means you need something bad enough that you don’t care what you’d have to sign to get it.”
I arched one brow at her. “I do care what I’d have to sign over. But I also know that nothing in life is free.”
She frowned, like that cliché meant more than it should have for her, and I wondered what she’d paid for whatever she got out of signing with Tower. “So tell me what you need, and I’ll get it for you.”
I shook my head slowly. “That’s not how the game is played.” Because if she knew that what I needed was her sister’s corpse, she’d try to kill me where I sat. So why was I more disturbed by the thought of being hated by her than of being killed by her?
“Fuck the game. I don’t wanna play.”
“You don’t have any choice,” I said, and fury rolled over her in waves almost thick enough for me to taste.
“Don’t ever say that to me,” she growled, her hands clenched around the chair arms so tightly I was afraid she might break them off.
