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I ate undisturbed, with no irate customers seeking me out. Either the rain had stopped before anyone tried out the suppressants, or more likely, with even the richest of them only purchasing two or three, they were saving them for an emergency. Like I’d told Ellsworth, it would be a while before anyone worked out they’d paid through the nose for a piece of ancient plastic and water.

Did I feel guilty? It was a question I asked myself occasionally, the answer invariably no. It wasn’t my fault that people’s greed and gullibility made them such easy targets. I didn’t rob them. I simply offered things they badly wanted to believe in. A dream, if you like. And they bit my hand off to get it. If anyone should take a long, hard look at themselves, it should be them. I liked to think I offered a service. One that taught them not to be so trusting, that not everything they wanted in life was there for the taking. They should thank me for it.

That thought had me smiling as I left the guesthouse. It didn’t last long when a man detached himself from the shadows and fell into step beside me. Taller than I was. Broader than I was. The moonlight last night hadn’t done him any favors. It had hidden the deep aquamarine of his eyes and made him look older than he appeared in the light of day; the truth being somewhere in his late twenties, the same as me. I doubted anyone would have described him as classically handsome, but he had a striking face. Rugged and unforgettable. And then there were those eyes.

I took all of that in at a single glance, not willing to be caught studying him. “If you’re here to apologize…”

“I’m not.”

The bluntness surprised me, and that was rare. It lent Keaton Levine—assuming that was really his name—an air of intrigue.

I took a sharp left, Keaton correcting his momentum to keep up with me, his long stride easily matching mine. “Aren’t you going to ask what I do want?”

“That would assume I’m remotely interested in you, and I’m not.”

“No?”

“No.”

“So maybe I’ll just keep walking with you, then.”

I jerked to a stop and rounded on him. “Or… you could fuck off.”

He pretended to consider that before shaking his head. “I want you to take me to your stash of suppressants. You said you had more.”

“No.” Easiest answer I’d ever given.

A muscle twitched in his cheek. I watched it with some fascination. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring, displaying it on his palm. “It’s an antique gold sovereign ring,” he said, the explanation unnecessary when I knew what it was. “It’s worth quite a bit, right?”

“Maybe,” I said, refusing to be drawn into anything approaching enthusiasm. That wasn’t how you did business, and it was becoming clear that after Keaton’s initial unorthodox introduction of himself that he’d changed tack, and that’s what this was. At least he spoke my language now.

“You take me to where you keep the suppressants, and I give you this.”

I pretended to ponder his proposition. “How many do you want for it?”

“Ten.” I snorted and went to turn away. “Okay… five.”

I turned back. “Four.”

“Five is a good deal.” The muscle twitched in Keaton’s cheek again.

“For you, maybe. I have other customers.” No lie there. Every community within reach was rife with customers. The only downside to this con was having to wait until it rained red. Fortunately for me, in a country not lacking in rain, it was rare to wait longer than a week at this time of year. Summer might cause more of a problem, but I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.

There were worse jobs. Like having an actual job. Something I’d experienced for a short while before discovering where my talents really lay. Although I couldn’t deny that my year as a butcher’s assistant had taught me some useful knife skills.

Something flickered across Keaton’s face. There, and then gone in a fraction of a second. “Fine,” he said. “Four.”

I reached for the ring, Keaton’s hand snapping shut like an animal trap. “Not so fast. You get the ring when I get the suppressants. Not before.”

Not quite as stupid as I’d assumed then.

I shrugged. “Suit yourself.” It didn’t matter. Not when I intended to take the ring and lose him well before that point, anyway. He was a fool to demonstrate having something valuable on his person. Not enough of a fool to hand it over straightaway, but a fool nonetheless, and I intended to exploit that for all it was worth. Keaton would rue the day he’d ever thought he could break into my room and get one over on me.

I resumed walking, Keaton again falling into step. “How far is it and in what direction?”

“Shouldn’t you have asked that before we made a deal?”

“Do you always answer a question with a question?”