Charon. Cord’s jaw clenched tighter. He might have known it would be one of the city’s freaks. “I’m going to see you fry for this,” he promised. “You and your buddy Charon.”
The Horseman increased the pressure against Cord’s throat. “You still taunt me? When death is so close?”
“You don’t scare me. Kill me if ya want,” Cord said defiantly. “I’d rather die with my chin up then beg.”
The Horseman leaned close, remembering the way that he had met Charon… Nipper had proven to be a disappointment. But here he was, again with a man who refused to back down in the face of his own demise. Would Cord have been the better person to ally himself with?
It was too late for that, the Horseman mused.
“I’d like to see you die,” he said, his ghostly voice echoing in Cord’s ear. “But I have chosen my side in this conflict and Charon has asked me to leave you alive. Do you know why he thinks you are more useful to him in this way?”
“I’d love to hear it — because he doesn’t know me very well if he thinks I’m not going to come after him with everything I have after this.”
“These men were known for their honesty. The fact that they were all killed while you alone were left alive… do you know what people will think?”
Cord’s eyes widened. He knew exactly how this would be perceived — people would think he was now on the take. “You bastards,” he hissed. “My reputation is the one thing I’ve got.”
The Horseman stepped away. “Not anymore.”
Cord whipped around, planning to strike back — but there was no one there. Not even a hint of the Horseman remained.
Chapter III: Assistance Unlimited
Charity woke up, her head pounding. She opened her eyes, finding herself in a well-furnished room that was not her own. Even without any other evidence, she could guess where she was: 6196 Robeson Avenue, home of Assistance Unlimited. Housed in a former luxury hotel, the building still retained that old feeling.
Mitchell sat on a second bed in the room, flipping through a battered copy of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. He tossed it aside when he saw Charity pushing off the mattress. “Sleeping beauty awakens!” he said, smiling broadly.
“Are you okay?” she asked, rubbing her temples.
“I’m fine, luv. My own headache faded after a bit and yours will, too.”
“I can’t believe they caught us. Josef must be rolling his eyes in heaven.”
“We’re going to be okay.”
“How do you figure that? We’re prisoners.” Charity looked up at him, annoyed that he was still smiling. “At best, they’re going to keep us on a leash. At worst, we’re going to jail. I’m going to spend my three years making license plates.”
Mitchell swung his feet off the bed, facing her. “If they wanted to turn us over to the police, they could have done so. We were as helpless as babes. The fact that they didn’t makes me think that they have other plans — and I don’t think they’re going to keep us around at all.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, we just need to make sure they contact The Peregrine. He’ll vouch for us.”
“I namedropped him. Doesn’t mean they’ll forget all the bodies I’ve left in my wake.”
“Max is pretty persuasive and I think he has a good rapport with Lazarus Gray.”
Charity stood up and wandered over to a mirror. She looked tired but otherwise unharmed. “I wonder if they’re listening to us right now.”
“Probably. If I were them, I would be.”
“Do you think she knows who I am?”
Mitchell’s smile faded and he became more serious. “Probably. I know you didn’t meet her during that whole blackmail scheme of your boyfriend’s — but I’m sure she knows your name.”
Charity sighed. “I’m more afraid of talking to her than I am of facing Lazarus.”
“Why?”
“Because a part of me is jealous of her! And now she’s going to be superior to me — again. She’s a hero, I’m a killer. It’s like all my worst nightmares come to life.”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Charity laughed coldly. “Oh, please. You mean besides the criminal record and the murders? Not to mention the fact that she’s gorgeous and I’m… I’m me.”
Mitchell turned her face towards his. “Are you joking? You’re absolutely beautiful. And you’ve done things that you needed to do to survive. You weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouth the way she was.”
Charity stared at him, her eyes widening slightly as he leaned closer. His lips parted and she knew what was about to happen though she wasn’t certain how she was going to respond.
She was saved from making that decision by a rapping at the door. Charity turned away and asked, “Yes?”
Samantha stepped inside, looking nearly as uncomfortable as Charity felt. It occurred to Charity that she hadn’t given any real thought to how Samantha would take this meeting.
“Lazarus wants the two of you to come down to the briefing room,” Samantha said. She addressed those words to both Charity and Mitchell but it was Charity alone who received her glance. “I’ve always wondered what you were like.”
“You could have found me,” Charity answered, immediately regretting her tone. “Sorry. I shouldn’t treat you like the enemy.”
“I thought about looking for you,” Samantha replied. “But I wasn’t sure how big a role you played in the blackmail scheme. And my father refused to talk about you or your mother so… I was scared, I guess. It was bad enough that I learned my father wasn’t the perfect figure I’d grown up believing him to be. To then learn that he had another daughter… I wasn’t sure I wanted to draw any comparisons between us.”
Charity looked stunned. “But you had everything! Why would you be scared of how I turned out? Nothing I accomplished was going to hold a candle to what you’ve done.”
“My life hasn’t been all sweetness and light.”
Charity stepped towards her, hands clenching into fists. “I don’t know how to speak to you,” she admitted.
Samantha smiled shyly. Up close, she didn’t look nearly as perfect as she seemed in the newspaper photographs. She was gorgeous, yes, but she was very human. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know, either. But we are related by blood… and from the looks of things, we both have a penchant for getting into trouble. Maybe we should get to know one another.”
Charity resisted the urge to respond sarcastically. It was part of her nature to do so when upset but she sensed that Samantha was being sincere… and, deep down inside, she wasn’t against the notion of having a family again. She’d been alone for a very long time — she’d started to think of Mitchell, Li and Cedric as a family of sorts but she was hesitant to commit too deeply given how easily any of them could be killed.
“I… I’d like that,” she said at last.
Charity was relieved to see that her uniform and weapons were lying on the table when she entered the briefing room. She wanted to grab hold of her sword, desiring its comforting weight in her hands, but she held off.
Lazarus Gray was standing at the head of the table, his handsome face drawn and serious. Seated on either side of him were a glowering young Korean whom she recognized as Eun Jiwon and a man in his forties, with a perfectly tailored suit and a small, well-tended moustache. This was Morgan Watts, a former criminal who had joined the side of the angels thanks to Gray’s intervention.
Charity spoke first, wanting to take control of the situation. She knew that Mitchell was at her side and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Samantha taking a seat. “Are you ready to let us go?” she asked.