Black On Black (Quentin Black Mystery #3) (22 page)

Since then, Angel had picked up the annoying habit of quoting science fiction movies at me and laughing hysterically.

“I’ll be ready,” I said. “Ready enough, anyway. That’s all that matters.”

“We could still involve the government,” Nick began. “Directly, I mean.”

But we’d had this argument before. Too many times, really.

I shook my head.

“No,” I said. “Nick...
 
I told you. Black is connected there already. He claims there are people on the inside who already know what he is. People he trusts. If he could have gone to them for help, he would have already.” I paused, thinking aloud. “He didn’t say it in so many words, but I suspect Lucky’s group has their own government ties. Meaning ties to
our
government, not just Russia’s, or even China’s. Going to your Pentagon buddies would probably just alert them to what we’re doing. Lucky’s people might not hesitate if it came to killing you. They don’t have any reason to keep you and Angel alive...”

“Miri...” Nick began, sighing.

I cut him off, my voice warning.

“They’re religious fanatics, Nick. You can’t reason with them. This isn’t a group you can
quid pro quo
with a business deal, like you can with Uri and Alexei. I don’t think we have much that they want.” Feeling his continued disagreement, I reminded him, “Ian worked for the government, Nick. His security clearance was pretty impressive, if you recall.”

That time, I felt my words penetrate.

I felt as much as heard Nick’s sigh.

“Okay,” he said. “We do it your way for now. This just makes me nervous, doc. These people, your new ‘allies,’ or whatever...
 
they might not be much better than the ones putting the lean on Black.”

“They’re better,” I said grimly. “They
have
to be better, Nick.”

Even so, I heard the thread of doubt in my voice.

I hoped like hell that I was right.

Then again, I hoped like hell we would never need their help at all.

I SHOULD HAVE known they’d call him. Dex at least. Kiko.

Still, for people who claimed they had no easy way to contact Black when he’d gone dark on a job, they didn’t waste much time.

I was sitting in front of the computer in his office when his desk phone rang. He had an actual land-line in here. Knowing him, it was in case of earthquakes or some other disaster. He’d be the type to want that, for a lot of reasons, I suspected.

I didn’t answer it, of course. Not at first.

It was his phone. His office.

I just kept reading the file I had open on his computer.

Then a voice rose in my mind, hard as metal.

Pick up the goddamned phone, Miriam...

I paused on the keyboard. Feeling him waiting, feeling the emotion coiling and sparking around him, I felt my jaw harden. Snatching up the dark-green, old-fashioned receiver from the rotary phone on his desk, I put it to my ear.

“Black Securities and Investigations,” I said, my voice cheerful. “Commander In Chief Black’s office. I’m sorry he’s not available at the moment...
 
perhaps I can leave a message? Or perhaps you’d like to just send your specific blackmail conditions via email so that there’s no delay?”

Silence greeted me.

I could feel him fighting to control himself on the other end of the line, but somehow, it only made me angrier.

“Sir?” I said politely. “Would you like to leave a message? He’s currently being blackmailed by someone else right now...
 
but I’m sure he’ll make your
specific
extortion or threat a number one priority as soon as he gets back. Well...
 
if
he gets back. There’s always that.”

“Miri,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“Answering your phone. Didn’t you want me to answer your phone, Quentin?”

Pain snaked out at me, catching me off-guard, closing my eyes. Anger wound into that pain, even as I felt a harder pulse slam into me despite the distance between us.

I felt fear there too. What might even have been panic.

“Did you call Uri? Alexei?”

I fell silent that time, caught off guard. Then, realizing that didn’t matter either, not now, I shrugged. “I’m sorry, sir? I don’t know who you are––”

“Did you make a
deal
with those fuckers, Miriam? Did you tell them about me?”

I fell silent. On the other end, Black lowered his voice, as if trying to control himself.

“Dex said you informed them you’re leaving.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” I said. “That information is classified.”

“He said you’re fucking
leaving,
Miri...
 
that you threatened them with legal action for false imprisonment if they tried to make you stay...”

“Can I route your call to voicemail, sir?” I said politely. “I would be happy to take down your name and number, and any specific conditions––”

“Goddamn it, Miri!” he snarled.

I fell silent.

For a moment, he didn’t say any more than that either.

Then he exhaled slowly, as if controlling his own heart beat. I could hear the drugs on his voice, could almost see him where he sat on the edge of a window sill, looking down over a street dusted lightly with snow. He was on the tail end of his time without sleeping again. He had to be on day four, at least...
 
maybe even day five by now, since he’d been doing his damnedest to extend that period, using drugs and whatever else.

They’d been going after him more and more while he slept.

But I knew he’d lie to me about that, too.

“Miri.” I saw him rub his forehead with his fingers, his eyes closed. “Miri. What are you doing? What are you doing, baby?”

I felt my jaw harden. “You don’t get to ask me that, Black.”

“Where are you fucking going?” he growled. “Are you coming here?” He hesitated, his voice holding more fear. “Or are you going there? Are you going to see them?”

“Again. You don’t get to ask me that, Black.”

“You know I can find out. I don’t want to do it that way.”

“What’s the difference?” I said, my voice sharper. “Threatening to do it is the same as doing it. Only
doing
it is harder for you. So go ahead. Call your people, Black. Find out where I’m going. Put a tail on me...
 
tap the airport and the bus and train station security feeds...
 
or just track me through the RFID chip you put in my arm. You will anyway.”

I considered hanging up on him, then hesitated, in spite of myself, gripping the plastic receiver harder in my hand.

“I’d be happy to do an information exchange, Black,” I said, quieter. “Tell me where you are right now. Tell me who you’re with...
 
what you’re doing. Tell me the truth...
 
and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“I can’t do that, Miri.”

“Then we’re done talking,” I told him.

I started to hang up for real that time, but he called out.

“Wait! Miriam!”

I put the receiver slowly back to my ear and lips. “What?”

He exhaled, his voice holding a harder anger. “It’s Ian.”

“What’s Ian?”

“Ian is what I’m doing here. It’s the job they gave me...
 
to hunt Ian.” Hesitating when I didn’t speak, he cleared his throat. “All right? It’ll be over soon.”

“You’re in Paris then?” I said.

I knew all of this. Black knew I knew all of this. He was stalling.

That, or he was trying to tell me something else.

The problem is, I had no idea what. Was he trying to warn me off going to Russia? Telling me to come to Paris instead? If so, why not just
tell
me that?

Either way, I’d been following the story in the news. There’d been four more murders, all of the victims couples. All of them newlyweds. All of them left in cathedrals around Paris.

“So let me come,” I said, when the silence continued. “If you’re hunting Ian, then––”

“No.” His voice turned cold.
“No,
goddamn it. Stay where you are, Miri. Stop asking for my fucking permission to come here...
 
I can’t give it to you.”

I bit my tongue. The phone was bugged. I could feel that on him too.

“Yes,” he said, his voice even colder.

Shaking my head at no one, I stared back at the open window on his desktop computer.

For a few seconds, I hesitated. I realized it was fear I felt. Not just his fear, but my own. Fear of a lot of things. Fear I was making a huge mistake. Fear that I would get us both killed. Fear that I was wrong and Black was right...
 
that there was some simpler, less confrontational way out of this mess. Fear for both of us, for my friends I’d now gotten involved.

Fear that it was too late. Fear that I’d already blown it.

But there was no magical easier way. If there was, I couldn’t see it. For all of Black’s hints and nudges and silences, I couldn’t read through it to what he wanted me to do. All I knew was, if I didn’t do something soon, I’d lose Black forever.

I fought back and forth through another silence.

Then, when I could feel him getting ready to end the call, I spoke.

“It’s you they want. You know that, Black. Not me. Definitely not Ian.”

“Miri––”

“If they just wanted you to hunt Ian, then what’s all this crap they sent you?” My voice sharpened. “I found the envelope, Black. The one they sent you the day you left. The one with filled with medical tests and photographs and all those other files. I saw the test results––the ones marked ‘hybrid.’ Is that how they sent you my pendant, too? The one they took from my dead sister’s neck after they murdered her? If this is about Ian, then why did they send you an envelope filled with information about
me?”

“How the fuck did you...” He trailed, then answered his own question. “Lizbeth. You got into the security storage? You’re reading my fucking staff now, Miriam––?”

I’d done more than read Lizbeth that time.

Black would know that.

I had to push Lizbeth’s mind to get her to grant me access to that locked room. Given where the storage area was located and the fact that it required a retinal scan for her to open the door, a push was the only thing that made sense. Black might even extrapolate that I’d done it from reading the information he pointed me towards on his computer. He’d said that thing about reading minds for whoever listened on the other end of the phone.

But I was done with those games, too.

“I’m what they’re threatening you with,” I said. “This has nothing to do with what happened in Bangkok. This has nothing to do with Ian.” When he remained silent, I pursed my lips. “What, if you don’t play ball, they’re going to get rid of me, is that it? Why would they do that Black, when they can just use me to put pressure on you whenever they feel like it?” I paused. “What makes you think this will ever stop?”

Black didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to. I’d known. I’d known for weeks now.