Wanda rose to her feet. “What is it?”
“Fabiano is here to see you.”
Alistair sat tense in his chair as Doris showed Fabiano and her familiar into the office.
It had been hard to convince Sam to go into the main room and keep his head down, but he’d managed. The two toughs who accompanied Fabiano had agreed to stay out there as well, and were currently drinking on the house.
Not that he thought they’d drink much on the job. Both of them were big, and Alistair would bet good money they shifted into something ferocious enough to put up a fight against five big cats.
A fight was the last thing they needed, with a crowd of innocent civilians inside. Hopefully Fabiano would see it the same way.
She’d come in disguise, her thick black hair tucked up under a workman’s cap, her clothes indistinguishable from any other laborer looking for a drink. Her heron familiar was in human form this time: yellow-eyed with a swoop of black hair, his figure long and lean as a knife blade. There was a cold calculation to his gaze that made Alistair feel like a fish about to be speared.
Fuck that. He wasn’t about to be intimidated by a bird.
Wanda poured everyone a whiskey. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Miss Fabiano?” she asked, but her polite words were a veneer over her steely tone. “Seeing as you tried to have my brother killed last summer.”
Fabiano sat down like a queen on a throne. Her familiar lurked behind her chair, as if ready to pounce. “That was just business,” she said with a wave of her hand. “He reneged on a favor he owed me, my boys roughed him up a little, and that’s the end of it.”
“They were trying to kill me,” Alistair growled.
“And they failed.” She spread her hands. “Would you prefer I try again? Or shall we let bygones be bygones?”
Fur and feathers, he had enough troubles as it was. Though he wanted to snap at her, he forced himself to say, “Fine. We’re square.”
“See? We’re all reasonable businesspeople here.” She smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “To answer your question, Miss Gatti, I’m here to offer you an opportunity.”
Wanda arched a brow and leaned back in her chair. “Oh?”
“I’m not going to bore you by telling you what you already know. Sullivan’s hold is tightening every day. I’d like you to help me loosen it.”
Oh, this was bad. Not to mention dangerous. “And why the hell should we do that?” Alistair growled.
The heron glared at him, but Fabiano chuckled. “Eloquent as ever, Mr. Gatti. What do you think will happen to you ‘independent operators’ if Sullivan succeeds in consolidating his hold on Chicago?”
“The same thing as I imagine will happen if you do instead,” Wanda replied smoothly.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Fabiano sipped her drink. “I’m here to offer you a deal. Help me out with Sullivan, and I’ll keep my hands off the place once I win. You can keep operating the way you always have.”
Wanda took out a cigarette. She didn’t offer one to Fabiano. “As you say, we’re independent. Neutral, in other words.”
Fabiano actually threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, sweetie, you aren’t stupid enough to believe that,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Sooner or later, you’re going to have to pick a side, or end up collateral damage. I’m giving you a chance to join the winning team.”
All Alistair’s senses seemed to sharpen, honed in to Fabiano. Did she know Sam worked for Sullivan? Maybe she was hoping to recruit him as a spy, in addition to the Gattis to her forces.
Wanda made a show of lighting her cigarette, as if she had all the time in the world. Once she’d puffed out a smoke ring, she finally said, “I appreciate your offer, Miss Fabiano. But I’m afraid I can’t accept it.”
The heron’s attention turned to Wanda, and Alistair prepared to launch out of his chair and into cheetah form.
Fabiano just shook her head. “Well. That’s a real shame, Miss Gatti. A real shame indeed.” She rose to her feet. “Thanks for the drink.”
They left. Alistair started to follow, but Wanda shook her head. They both stood, listening hard for the sound of any commotion, until Teresa appeared. “They’re gone.”
“Fur and feathers,” Wanda swore.
Alistair’s legs started to shake, and he sat down heavily. “This is bad, Wanda. Really bad.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” She sighed out a stream of smoke. “We’re going to have to inform Sullivan tomorrow.”
