CHAPTER EIGHT
The flickering lights of the dingy bar and grill—fringes of New City—didn’t bother my eyes, but they bothered the drunk couple across from me. They kept flinching with every other flick of the faulty lighting, my only distraction to my horrific circumstances. I drank a beer and watched them jerk in place, while I updated my firewalls. I added three more in the past two hours since arriving in New City, my train now in a storage facility here.
My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten in a while. I flagged the lone server down and ordered a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich on rye bread, large fries, and another beer. My fingers danced on the hologram on my watch while my meal was prepared, another firewall up. I would make it so impenetrable that it would take Wolfe Cooper a year to break through—damn intelligent man.
Finally, my food arrived. I used a cleanish napkin to soak up as much grease as I could from the fries since they were practically floating in it. A dab—a shit ton—of ketchup would help them out, but there was none on the table. I sighed away my disappointment and dug into my meal like a wild creature deprived of her last meal during hibernation. I’d probably regret eating this later. I’d worry about that then.
“Is this seat taken, Ms. Harvey?” Joshua asked softly, trapping my attention on his deceiving, soft brown eyes. “I’ve come to discuss my favor. I imagine you’d like to get it out of the way.”
My appetite was instantly gone.
The devil had arrived to claim his due.
I wiped my mouth with another slightly clean napkin and flicked my right hand at the empty seat across from me. “Go ahead.”
Joshua sat down with a grace inherent to his species, smooth and fluid, water flowing down a stream. “In two days’ time—absolutely no later, that is very important—you will contact Poppy Carvene. She will need to meet you at your burned apartment. Do not tell her the truth of why she needs to meet you there. Feel free to lie. I do need to speak with her.”
How utterly kind of him to give me permission.
My brown eyes narrowed on his. “Are you planning to kill her?” I wouldn’t invite her if he were, even though I was a woman of my word. Killing her didn’t sit well on my soul, just as Cassander’s death hadn’t, either.
“Absolutely not. She’s the trigger. I won’t harm her.” His mouth turned down at the edges in a frown—all fake. “I don’t know why you would ask me that.”
“Like you didn’t just kill a man?” I snorted.
His lips trembled in disgusting humor. “Ms. Carvene is physically safe with me, I assure you. As for my deeds at Port, I couldn’t help myself. I knew they’d come after you, so I followed. I do so adore torturing the pompous king. But the puppet master didn’t agree to my joy, and now I am feeling the repercussions.” His sigh was heavy.
I eyed his body language another moment. There was a slight hunch to his shoulders, and his hands on the table were in fists, his knuckles white he was straining so hard. I lifted a black brow in his direction. Curious, I queried, “Who’s the puppet master? Is there another species out there? One more powerful than shifters?”
The devil rolled his eyes. “There is no species more powerful than a shifter. Especially, the Ancients. They are power all on their own, most days. They have lived long enough to have evolved.”
My blink was slow. “You told me the other day that Theron is an Ancient. You bested him, getting what you wanted.”
He pointed a quick finger at me, before swiftly clenching his fist again. Yeah, he was in pain and trying to hide it. He sounded too pleased when he said, “He didn’t want to harm anyone else in the room, including you. If he had unleashed his power in those tight quarters, only he would be left standing.”
“And you still went after him?”Crazy fucker.
He tapped his right temple. “I knew I’d win.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. Whereas Wolfe Cooper’s arrogance had been almost humble in an attractive way, Joshua Striker’s arrogance made me want to vomit right in his smug face.
I questioned, “Are we done here? I’d like to get back to my meal.”
Not really. This food wasn’t fit for street rats.
Joshua stood, rising to his full height. The faulty light behind his head cast his shadow in an eerie manner across the table between us—it truly did look like what I imagined the devil would look like creeping out of a shadowed alleyway.
He bowed with a flourish. “Do not forget. In two days. She won’t want to miss meeting with me.”
A shiver crawled up my spine as his footsteps retreated from the table. I let my forehead fall forward, my hands cupping my face as I tried to calm every ounce of terror racing through my veins. More than likely, he’d been able to scent my fear, but I would always put on a brave face in front of that man. Show an ounce of weakness, and he’d gobble me up…and then grin like he had after fooling Theron into killing his remaining son.
My silver bracelet vibrated on my wrist. I peeked at the readout, confusion swamping me since I didn’t know the username trying to contact me. I tapped on the message and stared at the readout.
Hello, Mrs. Noelle Harvey.
I hope you don’t mind me messaging you through your article account. I didn’t know how else to reach you. I am Mina Kramer’s mother. My daughter is in a relationship with Finn Baker. I think you and I would have a lot to talk about. Please message me back if you wish to speak together privately sometime.
Sincerely,
