“You’ve been sitting there in relative silence since your arrival.”
“I’m not brooding.” He took the man in from head to toe pointedly, then glanced around at all the empty space in the room. “And I don’t think you should be talking shit about how Baikal does things. What kind of king enters into enemy territory alone?”
“The kind that can take care of themself,” the guy smirked, the vicious expression cutting through his relaxed demeanor to show a glimpse at the monster beneath the mask.
“There you are.” Kaz returned it with a grin of his own. “I’ve been waiting for you to show your true colors.”
Pious Prince, better known as the Emperor of Old—whatever the fuck that meant—was dressed to the nines in fancy charcoal duds and polished shoes. His dark hair was slicked back, and his face was clean-shaven. The glittering rings adorning each of his fingers and the expensive half-empty bottle at his elbow only added to the picture of wealth. From a passerby’s perspective, he probably looked like a celebrity, or a man who’d come from generational money, but according to their research, Pious was neither.
The Ancient were a mafia group that typically kept to their galaxy, which was located a good way away from Kazimir’s. They’d only had minor interactions over the past couple of decades, all of them kept private by Sullivan Void, Baikal’s deceased dad and their ex-Dominus. All the secrets made Kaz itchy for answers, but Whim, his predecessor, had warned him beforehand not to overstep here. While he liked to tease Whim that he made decisions like his namesake, that was only a joke. He knew the previous underboss never did anything without a lengthy risk assessment first.
Apparently, Pious was a big bad who needed to be handled with care.
Ironically, Kazimir happened to be a big bad who liked breaking things, so they’d see how this meeting would end once they crossed that proverbial bridge. As it were, he wasn’t really feeling it, since Pious had been putting on that princely act this whole time.
“I don’t like to be bullshitted,” Kaz said, dropping his own glass down onto the coffee table before him with a loud clatter. Screw Whim’s advice. “You want access to our resources? Gotta give me something worthy in return.”
“You’ve already insulted me,” Pious stated, “and now you’re threatening me? Sullivan had much more decorum.”
“Yeah, well, now you’re stuck with me. Tough.”
“And if I demanded to see Baikal Void in person?”
“You could,” Kaz shrugged. “Might be waiting a while though, and from the little you have shared, I get the impression you’re in a bit of a rush, Prince.”
“I’m an emperor,boy.” Pious leaned forward, more of that calm mask slipping away.
Exactly what Kaz wanted. He hadn’t been lying—this time. He didn’t like dealing with people he couldn’t get a clear read on. It was too obvious that something was off about Pious; Kaz needed a better grasp on his personality in order to ensure things went his way.
That’s why Baikal gave him this position in the first place. Kaz had a way of worming his way through another person’s psyche, learning what made them tick, what made them passionate and excited, and using those things against them without them even realizing.
Manipulation was an art form, and he was a master craftsman.
Just ask Nate Narek.
“We look close to the same age.” Kazimir was good with gauging that type of thing, too, considering Vitality was a planet that operated on filial piety. Knowing your stance with another person was important, especially if that other person was a Devil.
“I assure you, I am much, much older.” Pious licked his lips and then strummed his fingers on his knee. “All right. We’ve been handling your phkin shipments for eight years now with a cut of thirty-seventy. I’ll drop it to twenty if you give me access to your imprinting system.”
That wasn’t a bad deal. The only problem was that the Brumal didn’t have control of the main system; only the Imperial family, those who ruled the planet’s government, did. They were in league with the Brumal, of course, but that didn’tmean getting them to hand Pious a keycard was easy. Kelevra Diar, the Imperial Prince, third in line for the throne, was a royal pain in the ass on a good day who loved making things difficult. If Kaz went to him for this favor, there was no telling how much he’d try to milk him for it in return.
Good thing Kazimir had another option. He’d skip straight to Zane and ask him to help instead.
“Some ground rules before I agree,” Kaz said. “You’re obviously looking for a person. If this individual turns out to be Brumal, or part of the Imperial Retinue, you’ll report it to us before making any further moves.”
“Starting a war is very low on my to-do list, I assure you,” Pious replied. “I’m confident it won’t come to that anyway. The person I’m after prefers sticking to the shadows and staying out of the limelight. Getting involved with either of your parties would make it more difficult for him to remain hidden.”
“It would give him a support system against you on the day you come knocking,” Kazimir pointed out, but Pious merely shook his head.
“He doesn’t need protection. The man I’m after is more than capable of defending himself.”
“So he’s dangerous then?” Flix frowned. “And he’s been hiding out on Vitality for how long?”
“Unclear,” Pious told them. “If I’d known about his presence sooner, I would have been here sooner.”
“He’s that important to you?” Kaz asked.
Pious’s expression darkened. “He’s everything.”
