Both men swore, but could do little else as my magic flowed through. I glanced up at Sgott and nodded.
“Right,” he immediately said. “Tell me your names and why you are here.”
“Raul Torrez,” the swarthy man muttered. “SUV driver and backup muscle.”
“Jason Gould,” the blond said. “Muscle. We were both employed to watch and deflect by any means necessary.”
“Deflect being code for ramming your vehicle into mine?” Mathi said mildly.
Raul glanced at him. “Yeah. We were given your license plate and car model and told to stop you getting into that house until we were told otherwise.”
“We weren’t warned you had skills,” Jason added. “I mean, how the fuck did you flip the car like that?”
“I did not,” Mathi replied, cool amusement touching his lips. “Might I suggest that the next time you accept such an assignment, you thoroughly investigate just who and what you’re going up against? Trust me when I say that an annoyed Ljósálfar elf is the least of your problems right now.”
The two men shared a glance. Neither looked happy. “Look, man, we didn’t know?—”
“We’re not interested in what you didn’t know,” Sgott cut in, “but rather what youdid. Who employed you?”
“Don’t know his name. Best not to with these sorts of jobs, you know?” Jason said.
“Then how did he get in contact with you?”
“He rang us.”
“Then you’ve worked with him before?”
“No,” Raul replied. “He got our number via a broker. We did check and they did recommend us. No contract or fee required.”
“Thatis extremely unusual,” I commented. “Brokers don’t work for the love of it.”
“No,” Mathi agreed. “But some do sometimes give out contact details, either because they are related to the contractor or because they have a beef against the target.”
“So which scenario applied here?” I asked.
Jason sniffed. “I got the impression it might have been both, but it’s not like I could ask. I mean, she wasn’t going to confirm it anyways, was she?”
She? While there was more than one female broker active within Deva, there was only one who might hold a grudge against me or Mathi—Kaitlyn Avery. And she’d certainly be familiar with the Merc’s registration number given how many times he—and we—had visited her of late.
Except the last I’d heard she was still in hospital recovering from the frost burns she’d received in the ice attack that had destroyed her place of business. Surely even she wouldn’t be running her business from her hospital bed.
“Does this someone have a name?” Sgott asked.
“Obviously, yes.”
“And what is their name?”
Sgott had the patience of a saint. I was ready to clip the fellow over the head.
“Kaitlyn Avery.”
So much for the thought she couldn’t be involved. “And she didn’t warn you about me?”
He frowned. “Why would she have?”
“Because she and Beth have had a few run-ins before,” Mathi said, amused. “But she’s also a high-end broker of services—why on earth would she have recommended two very obviously middle-of-the-range felons?”
“Hey, we ain’t no middle range?—”
