The King and the Courtesan (31 page)

I didn’t feel comfortable here. I knew the organization behind the dysfunctional government terrorized my home country on a regular basis. But, I couldn’t sit around and worry about it. That was unrealistic. Ezekiel wouldn’t have brought me if I weren’t safe.

I took out my bathing suit and went for a swim. As I emerged from the water, I spotted Osric stepping out onto the patio, dressed in pristine white, wearing large sunglasses. He was talking in a low voice on the phone. I hoped he would head back into the house again, but instead he stretched himself out underneath an expansive umbrella, a tropical drink in hand. Even though he wore his sunglasses, I could tell he was staring at me.

I slipped out of the pool and stood at the end of his lounge chair until he looked up. His hair was down for once, about an inch past his shoulders. Looking at him, I finally realized why he was here with me instead of off doing important things.

He was Ezekiel’s substitute.

People in Metro knew what Ezekiel looked like, or had some semblance of an idea. They at least knew he wasn’t Jahralian. But here in Jahral, I bet Ezekiel was some vague legend. No one knew who he was, or what he looked like, only that he had the power of a god. And maybe he did, like the ability to be in two places at once.

Osric was here to take Ezekiel’s place in case someone came knocking. He was young, good looking, and was a native who spoke the language. And right now, in his white suit and reflective sunglasses, he could have been the king pin of crime. No one needed to know the difference.

I just hoped no one expected me to sit on his lap.

“Can I help you?” he asked after he hung up.

“Do you really have to be out here?”

“Is there a reason I can’t sit by the pool and enjoy myself?” An eyebrow rose from beneath his shades.

“Not while I’m out here.” I glared at him. “Enjoying the view, are you?”

A sleazy smile crept onto his lips, and even an oblivious woman wouldn’t have missed the perusal he gave me, from my feet to my shoulders. “I can’t say it’s a particularly
bad
view. I am rather enjoying it, yes.”

“Ezekiel wouldn’t—”

“Ezekiel couldn’t really care less how I look at you.” Osric’s voice returned to indifference. “As long as I don’t touch you.”

“Do you serve as his substitute when he’s gone?”

Osric smiled slightly. “Smart girl, you are.”

“Why? Why does it matter?”

“Why not? With me as his substitute, he can be in two places at one time, and no one has to know. It keeps people in line. Only the closest, most confidential employees know the real him. For everyone else, it’s interchangeable. It keeps them on their toes, looking over their shoulders. Good for business.”

“It’s deceptive.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t exactly feel bad for the Yentis.” Osric raised his eyebrows. “They’re far more evil than Ezekiel could ever hope to be.”

“And you’re such an
angel
, so you know what evil means.” Sighing, I moved past him.

“Hey.” He scrambled up, but not before depositing his empty drink on the table beside him. “I have morals, you know.”

I headed up the steps toward the house. Osric was right on my heels.

“And I don’t think you have the right to judge, either. You’re a hooker, after all.”

I turned and glared at him.

“What? Does saying so offend you or something?” Osric implored.

“Prostitutes aren’t
evil
—we don’t provoke violence, we just receive it. You, on the other hand, are a criminal.” I poked him in the chest. “Just like Blade. You make Metro the hellhole it is.”

“And Ezekiel doesn’t?”

“I never said that.”

“Look, I do what I have to so I can take care of myself.”

“You know, you could try getting a college degree and a good career with the money you’ve earned so far. Make something of yourself.”

Osric pushed back his glasses to roll his eyes. “Oh yeah, cuz I’ve never thought of
that
before. Thing is, a ‘real’ degree and a ‘real’ career want you to sit around in a chair all day and listen to bullshit. I’m not very good at that, and I’m
really
good at this.” He spread his arms to imply the luxury around him. “The risks are pretty high, but so are the perks.”

“All of
this
comes at the expense of others.”

“So does everything else. Come on, Melissa, surely you’re not so gullible to believe in good guys and bad guys. You think I’m worse than some marketing department at a cigarette company? How many people die from lung cancer every year? You think they consider what they do evil?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“I’m sure they don’t lose a wink of sleep over it. They probably tell themselves all those people deserve to die for being such morons and smoking in the first place.” Osric shrugged. “Personal responsibility and all. You could say the same of people who use drugs. They didn’t
have
to start, right? No one put a gun to their head.”

“You’re an idiot,” I muttered. “It’s more complicated than just choosing to become a drug addict one day.”

“Complicated or not, it’s not my problem. I do my job just like everyone else. Turns out I’m pretty good at it.”

I was about to snap at him, but something on the TV caught my eye. It was turned to a Sumerthan satellite channel, so it was in the language I understood. After heading all the way into the house, I grabbed the remote and turned it up.

“Today police raided an old warehouse in West Metro, where an anonymous tipper told authorities substantial amounts of a drug colloquially known as
street dust
could be found. The tipper said the bags were prepared for distribution among the Metro populace. The police were met with heavy fire as they arrived; three policemen were airlifted to a nearby hospital with serious gunshot wounds. There is no word yet on their conditions. Once the authorities fought their way inside, only a few traces of the drug remained. The police believe the drugs were removed during the shoot-out. They are looking for more information about the new location of these narcotics.”

I lowered the volume and slowly turned to Osric.

“Osric?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did Ezekiel really come here?”

“A few of the overseers were giving him problems.”

I stared at him, silent. Osric smiled.

“He knew that raid was going to happen,” I whispered.

“Perhaps. He came here to get out of the heat, I guess you could say.”

“How could he know—”

“There are leaks within his organization. But, for every one man with a conscience, there are three more willing to take Ezekiel’s money and turn him in. Ezekiel was told about the leak, and he assumed what would happen, though he wasn’t sure where. He pulled his inventory out of that warehouse before the police even arrived. But now he knows exactly where the leak worked. In fact, I think he knows who this ‘anonymous tipper’ was. This will be the last time the guy tips anyone, I think.”

I gulped and turned back to the TV. Ezekiel seemingly knew the future now. “Can the police pin this on him?”

“Probably not. They haven’t yet. Ezekiel runs a pretty tight ship. And he pays his people well.” At this, Osric grinned and flopped down onto the couch. “Look at this place. I have everything I want. And could I have the same if I turned him into the police? No way. And what’s gonna happen if he does get caught and goes to jail, huh? Some other guy is gonna take his place, someone even worse than Ezekiel. The drug trade is inevitable, and I think Ezekiel is the best guy to do it.” He pulled a cigarette from his front pocket and slipped it between his lips. “Why so judgmental, Melissa, huh? You work for him, too.”

“I don’t help him hurt people!”

He shrugged. “You still spend his money. Money he earned by hurting people.”

I sighed heavily and sat on the couch beside Osric. I didn’t know what to think. I’d seen so many people hurt, including myself, for the street dust. But Osric was right. As long as people were unhappy, there would be a drug trade. Did it matter in the end who ran it? And I’d heard that before Ezekiel, times had been even more turbulent. The Metro newspapers’ obituaries were longer, too. Maybe Ezekiel
was
the best for the job.

Osric glanced down at his phone again. “You’re needed in Kafattan tonight.”

“For what? Wait, what’s Kafattan?”

Osric lifted an eyebrow. “It’s the capital.”

“Well
excuse
me for not knowing the capital of a country run by crazy drug lords and terrorists.” I paused. “What do you mean I’m
needed
?”

“Ezekiel needs you for something.”

I couldn’t imagine what
something
was, considering my only responsibility was keeping Ezekiel sexually satisfied. Why had he left me here if he needed me so soon? I figured I’d never understand the complex workings of Ezekiel’s brain, so I took Osric’s word for it.

“It’s not like you have anything else to do,” Osric said like a smart-ass, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Will we be back by tomorrow?”

“If Ezekiel’s fine with that. Honestly, this is all out of my hands.”

“Some evil sidekick you are.”

Osric reached over and patted my leg, the contact brief enough to be friendly. “Ezekiel has a smaller house in Kafattan where you can stay. It shouldn’t be a big issue. Not many people get their own defense convoy, so you’ll be safe.”

Right. Safe. Surrounded by twenty men in military fatigues, most likely working for both Ezekiel and the Yentis. What could I do if they decided to turn on Osric and Ezekiel for their own amusement? I shuddered thinking about it.

“Are you
sure
?” I asked slowly.

Osric rolled his eyes. “Obviously, or Ezekiel wouldn’t have asked you to be transferred.”

“But what does he need me for?” When Osric gave me a look, I frowned. “I mean, outside of the usual.”

“Maybe the guy got horny. I don’t ask questions, I just follow orders. Go upstairs and grab some clothing. We leave in twenty minutes.”

* * *

The two-hour ride probably would have only taken an hour if the roads were in better condition. I was motion sick within ten minutes. They threw a tarp over the back of the truck to keep curious pedestrians from looking in. Surely people would be suspicious of a woman who was obviously not Jahralian. In Kafattan, people would be more accepting of foreigners, but out here in the boonies, people only trusted their own.

About an hour after we left, it began to pour, which made the drive even worse. At least the bugs decided to leave. Their buzzing was replaced by the drone of rain on the tarp above me. The driver was getting soaked but he didn’t appear to care.

I saw a curlicue of smoke in the distance. I touched Osric’s arm.

“What is that?” I asked, squinting.

“Probably just a camp fire or something.”

But when we pulled up to an intersection, we saw two abandoned jeeps on the road leading toward the fire. The street seemed empty for a moment, but then I spotted a figure sprinting through the mud and rain, a dog trailing behind him.

Osric didn’t seem interested, so he tapped the driver and jerked his head, a signal to keep driving. But when I heard the figure cry out, I said, “Stop!” The driver halted, surprisingly, even though I didn’t think he understood my language.

“Melissa, it’s nothing—”

“What if he’s in trouble?” I saw it was a boy, probably no older than eight, dressed in rags and bleeding heavily from the side of his head. His eyes were wide in terror. “Osric, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Osric grunted, then ordered the driver forward.

But I opened the door and stepped out before the truck could move. Osric growled something, but the hum of the rain drowned it out. My heels sank deep into the mud, yet I was only worried about the little boy running and crying.

“Melissa,” Osric hissed, jumping out of the truck and grabbing my arm with a firm hand. “Get back in the car.”

The dog slowed as the boy approached. I saw his one arm was bloodied, too, and the skin looked charred, like he’d been burnt. He was hysterical, bowling into me and wrapping both arms around my waist with such force he practically knocked me over. He began to shout in Sehitian, but I wouldn’t have been able to understand him even if I had known the language. He was sobbing pretty hard.

Osric grabbed the back of the boy’s tunic and shoved him off me, growling something in Sehitian. I pushed Osric back with a glare.

“Can’t you see something is wrong?” I shouted over the rain. “What the hell are you doing?”

“This is none of our business. Get in the truck!”

“What is wrong? What is he saying?”

“Nothing. Get in the truck.”

Osric grabbed my arm, and I shoved him off. “Tell me what’s wrong!”

The boy was hugging me again, screaming now. The rain fell harder than ever. I heard a scream in the distance. Then, rapid-fire gunshots and an explosion. A red mushroom cloud blossomed above the trees. More gunshots. Another scream.

“Is that a village?” I asked.

“Get in the truck,” Osric ordered.

“At least help the boy!” I shouted as he held me tight. “He’s bleeding! H-he’s in bad condition.”

“No. We’re not taking him with us to Kafattan. What the hell would we do with him?”

“Take him to a hospital! Ask him where his parents are. I don’t know! We can’t leave him bleeding and wet like this. He’s just a little boy.”

Osric stared down the road, and so did I. Something was coming toward us. Another truck.

“Oh, shit. Melissa,
get in the truck. Now
.”

“But—”

“If they see you, they won’t be asking questions. Not after just setting a whole fucking village on fire.”

“I can’t just leave—”

Gunshots stabbed the earth around us, clumps of mud flying. I screamed and ducked, and I heard the boy cry out. I reached for him, but Osric physically picked me up and threw me in the vehicle. Before I could scramble back up, Osric shouted at the driver and we were off, leaving the gunshots and the boy’s limp body behind.

Osric had to pin my limbs to my body for a few minutes until I stopped struggling and submitted to his superior strength. The truck was really rolling now, soaring over potholes and vibrating so hard it was a wonder the frame held together. When I went limp, Osric cautiously released me, though he still kept a hand on my arm, as if afraid I’d leap from the truck. Instead, I twisted around and poked my head outside of the tarp, looking down the road and past the tree canopy to the thin plume of smoke stretching toward the gray sky.