“Come on,” I let out softly, looking around at the people who were back to relaxing and looking over their manila files. I hadn’t even thought about the one that was pressed to my chest. It wasn’t even in my mind right now. Mercy’s job could come second to Ezra.
“The guys left about a minute ago,” he said. “They told me to wait.”
“The fuck,” I let out, staring dead at Mercy. I marched toward her. “You told them to go?”
“Told who?” she asked. “I haven’t told anyone anything. I’ve been right here with you, Jacques.”
“Call me Reaper,” I said with a snarl. It was what I was known as down here, and that shouldn’t change.
Ezra thought I’d been talking to him. “Okay,” he whispered.
“No, not—” I began. “Ezra, get somewhere safe. Your closet.”
He chuckled. “I don’t really want to go back into the closet.” He was nervous but could still crack a joke. I admired that. It was his life on the line after all. “Please...” His voice was soft. “Tell me what to do.”
“You’re going to get in the closet,” I said firmly. “And wait for me.”
“Reaper,” Mercy said. “You can’t go anywhere.” Like she wouldn’t have done the same thing if it was her wife Marzia’s life on the line. “We need to talk about your case.”
“The FBI will come get me,” he said. “If they do, I’ll go with them.”
My eye twitched. I didn’t want to have a seizure again right here and now. I couldn’t—it was a sign of weakness in front of all these people. A weakness only Ezra had seen, and those fucking medical staff who’d pumped me full of drugs.
“Come on,” Mercy said with a whisper and a nod. “I haven’t ordered anyone to do anything with your—your thing. I have, however, ordered you come with me to my office.”
There was no getting around this. I was locked into Sanctum right now, and as much as I wanted to explode and go get Ezra, I owed Mercy my life—several times over—and shewould use that as the emotional blackmail I knew it was always intended to be.
“Okay.” I gave in. “Wait for the FBI. But I still want you in the wardrobe until they get there. Also, I hope you’ve eaten. You’ll need all your strength for how emotionally draining being in a safe house will be.” I looked around, knowing firsthand the drain spending too long in one could be. This one was an exception to that, mostly, since it was equipped with a full canteen, medical staff, and was almost impenetrable.
Once we were in one of Mercy’s many travelling offices—a security protocol to keep anyone from knowing where she’d be—she apologized that the crew had left after tapping into the security and cleaning away the body. I wasn’t surprised it didn’t take them long, because I’d witnessed firsthand the speed at which those people could break down a body and have it inside bags.
“Your next job is in conflict,” she finally said.
Opening the file, it was Nexovex. “No,” I said. “And how do you—”
Mercy rolled her eyes at me. Sitting behind her desk, she gave her keyboard a tap. “I’m not sure what you think of me, but I will absolutely always do a full check on anyone you’re seeing. I need to know who they are, what they do, and why they do those things.”
I leaned in. “What did you find out about Ezra?”
She shrugged. “He’s clean, mostly. He attended Whitespire, which flagged the system.” Her eyes darted to the computer screen, looking at it glow in her face. “He’s some analytical prodigy, apparently. He created an algorithm that detected the formation of cancerous cells. Precursor markers.” She shrugged again. “I don’t know. It’s just what I’m reading from the screen.”
“Okay, so, what’s the job?” I looked at it. “No. Neutralizing a threat?”
“Nexovex have come under fire recently. The information we were given was that a threat has taken confidential documentation and are going to be selling it to the highest bidder.” As she said it, I was reading the words—all false, all of it.
“They’re fucking playing you, then.”
“We get played all the time in this business, and sometimes we’re the ones playing,” she said. “Now, the job doesn’t specify your—your Ezra, but the information does fit his description. He’s an analyst at the company, with access to documents.”
I shook my head, and slapped the file shut. “Yeah, well, that’s not happening,” I said. “Remove them as a client.”
Mercy became quiet, almost sliding across the desk to have her face meet mine. She shook her head. “Millions of our income would vanish,” she whispered. “They let us use all their drugs, and we work with them on ours. That partnership is what keeps our medical wing alive.”
My head continued to shake. “No.”
“I can see you’re clearly conflicted by this, J—Reaper,” she said, her tone noticeably much calmer. “If anything, I might need you to stay here so you don’t get between this and what we’re paid to do.”
“Mercy, you’re not going to kill the guy I’m dating,” I said. Maybe not the perfect time to define the relationship, but it was done. “So you can take whatever idea you think is going to happen and shove it.” My eyes were intense on her face, as if I was ready to burn holes through her. “Hurt him and I go scorched earth, I promise you.”
