Page 3 of Empress of Ruin
“Fuck around and find out, right?” Carter smirks, but shows that his IQ is north of room temperature by removing his Italian-leather shoes from my workspace.
“I’m a busy man, so I’ll ask this once; what the fuck couldn’t be discussed over the phone?”
“Busy.” Carter chuckles derisively. “Try playing ball with the mob some time, Killian. It’s like running a fucking preschool. It’s allwah, this,my shipments were stolen, that. Insufferable.” He sniffs.
“Carter,” I warn. “I’m not in the mood.”
He lets silence linger, just to provoke me. “Makes sense. After all, you have recently beenspectacularlyfucked over.” He smiles, as if my misery is personally amusing to him.
“The quarterly reports on my desk will show a swift recovery.”
“Not by that expose business.” He waves his hand carelessly. “By that hot little journalist. She still in the wind?”
“Don’t play dumb. You know the answer.”
“Of course I do.” He examines his fingernails. “And The Eyes putting your petition to kill Silas Cornell under review?” he mock-pouts. “It’s really been a shit year for you, hasn’t it?”
My jaw clenches. “How thefuckdo you know about that?”
I submitted my petition to be allowed to kill Silas on the grounds of him harming my soon-to-be family three days after Lyra disappeared. Just as soon as I’d taken care of the leaked tape as best as I could and assured my shareholders that the expose was nonsensical and blown completely out of proportion.
The Eyes took two months to consider, then put me in review. That’s their way of casting suspicion and making me wait. I guess, in hindsight, my ask was a longshot considering that I was neither engaged nor married to Lyra at the time when Silas struck, and The Eyes don’t take action on speculation or plans alone. Then again, nobody but me has to know we weren’t yet engaged.
There were many oversights in my brief but arresting relationship with my Little Bird. Mistakes that I won’t repeat when I find her again. I gave her far too much freedom—that ends the second I set eyes on her. Iwillset eyes on her again. Ihaveto. I don’t care if it’s in days, weeks, or years.
“How does a bear know to shit in the woods?Instinct,” Carter hisses. “You think I don’t have eyes on that cute little secret society? They’restilltrying to recruit me.”
Impressive. A single attempt at recruiting a powerful player on the board, one as significant as Carter, is unsurprising.Repeated attempts, however, are noteworthy. They almost reek of desperation. It means The Eyesreallywant Carter, and indicates they have some plans that require his cooperation.
“They’ll kill you if they know you’re surveilling them,” I say offhandedly.
“The only way they’ll find out is if my source of information exposes himself. I have his balls in a vice. He’d kill himself before outing either of us.”
He sounds amused at the prospect of being able to push a man to suicide. I consider myself appropriately sadistic, but Carter is sometimesinsane.
“I’ll take care of Silas in due time.”
“Be careful with that,” Carter says. “He’s been making allies in your little boy-band. Powerful allies that never quite liked you.”
“Who’s your source?” I could use them to untangle this mess of politics.
“There’s a better chance of me shoving a broken lightbulb up my ass than telling you that.”
I grimace at the visual he conjures. “Are we done here?”
“No, I haven’t even gotten to the point of my visit. Thought I’d engage in that inane small talk that society seems to favor.”
“Get to the point or get thefuck out,” I growl.
Carter picks up a paperweight from my desk and turns it over in his hands. “Very well. I have information you want. You have something I want. I’d like to trade.”
Intuition is a fascinating thing. I usually don’t give credence to mere feelings, but I do respect the idea that intuition is simply information that the brain hasn’t yet processed. And the niggle in my gut right now tells me exactly what Carter’s going to say before he says it.
“Where is she?” And how thefuckdidhemanage to find Lyra before I did? I have a team of experts on it.
“In the wind…right now. Shall we discuss my terms for telling you what I know?”
“Sure. Here’s a take-it-or-leave-it offer.” I open my desk drawer, pull out my gun, and point it at Carter’s head. “Tell me right now.”
