“Alice,” she said before she walked a few steps away, her back partially to me, but her voice carried.
I could still hear Blackjack on the other end, his tone low and controlled, but not the words. Liberty didn’t bother to lower hers.
“You brought a war onto my turf,” she said. “Into my hospital. You know how I feel about that.”
Pause. Blackjack answered something.
“You didn’t plan on it,” she repeated. “I believe that. You’re a lot of things, Alice, but you’re not stupid enough to piss on my floors on purpose. But intention doesn’t change fallout.”
Her gaze slid over her shoulder toward me, assessing, measuring. I stood still. No point in pretending I wasn’t listening.
“He has a bag on his back that might be a nuclear bomb by the way I can tell he’s protecting it,” she said. “You think I’m going to just let him ride off into the sunset with it and hope your boy doesn’t get ventilated in the next twenty-four hours? I need to know what’s in my house. Or I make my own way to the answer.”
She said it casually, but I heard the threat under it. If she couldn’t get the information from us, she’d rip it out of the canvas herself, and then all bets were off.
Blackjack’s voice came through faintly, sharper. She listened, eyes narrowing.
“I don’t want a war with you,” she said eventually. “You know that. I have enough to keep me busy without adding your bullshit into the mix. But from where I’m standing, war’s already here. Shots were fired. Blood was spilled. That makes my girls a target. So, you tell me how I’m supposed to feel generous when the match was in your hand?”
Another pause.
Her shoulders eased a fraction. It was the tiniest shift, but it was there.
“Fine,” she said. “Cooler heads, all that. You send your Vice President up. He and I will sit down like adults and you can explain this shitstorm to me. Until then, I keep your boy here, underourwatch. He doesn’t leave without my say so. If anyone comes looking for him or that bag, we find out what colors they bleed. Agreed?”
Blackjack’s voice rose a little on the last word. Icouldn’t make it out, but the tone said he didn’t like his warlord being anyone’s houseguest.
She cut him off. “You need my help,” she reminded. “I heard it in your voice earlier, even if you didn’t say it. So, swallow whatever pride you have left and let me do what I’m good at. Locking shit down. When 8-Ball gets here, we talk. You owe me a full picture. Until then, I’ll keep your piece on the board standing. That’s the best deal you’re getting.”
Whatever he said in response finally satisfied her. She exhaled slowly.
“Yeah,” she said more quietly. “You too.”
She hung up.
For a moment she just stood there, staring at the dead screen like she might throw the phone at someone’s head. Then she slid it into her back pocket and walked back toward me.
Up close, I could see the old scars scattered under the ink on her arms. Fine white lines. Some straight. Some jagged. None slowing her down.
“Until I say otherwise,” she said, “consider yourself leverage.”
I lifted my hands slightly, palms out. “You feed me, I have no complaints. You cage me, we might have a disagreement.”
Her mouth curved. It wasn’t a friendly smile.
“You don’t get to disagree right now,” she said. “You stepped into my nest. You either let me wrap coils around you until I know you’re notgoing to explode, or I put you in the ground and see if digging through your bag is easier without you still attached to it.”
The Vipers around her chuckled. Not nicely.
Behind her, Valkyrie watched me with that same sharp focus, like she was trying to decide whether I was salvageable or should be recycled for parts.
“Ladies,” Liberty said without turning, “get him inside. He’s a guest. Treat him like one. But a guest we’ll shoot if he does something stupid.”
“Best kind of guest,” someone muttered.
Two Vipers stepped forward. One was tall, with a wolf tattoo wrapped around her neck. The other had shoulder-length black hair, piercings in both brows, and a nose ring.
“Come on, Devil,” the taller one said. “Bar’s this way.”
