“Martine made us,” said Bo, when they were outside. “We have to go. There’s a car waiting.”
Unbelievable how calm some people could be.
Take a hint, Daniel thought as they headed down the street. Don’t get angry. If you get angry you lose.
“We should talk about what just happened, I think,” he managed. His voice sounded a little tight, but it wasn’t even a fraction of how he was feeling, which was that he wanted to watch Martine’s security guys plant a bullet in Bo’s chest.
Bo sighed with the air of a man who’d been recruiting under duress a while. “I did what I had to do to bring you in.”
“I have the right to refuse a job offer.”
“Usually,” said Bo, edged. “But you started this, and you can’t get mad that we don’t choose the stories.”
The crowd was flowing out behind them. Someone was shouldering through, headed their way.
Bo stepped closer. His expression shifted—the false calm vanished, and his words pushed past the cold. “You have nothing, and Sapaki wants you dead. You going to oblige her?”
He’d dropped the act; the words came out bare, and Daniel thought that, not long ago, someone might have dragged Bo from a story he loved by reminding him that snaps had no bridges worth burning.
And when something was laid out by a con man who’d reached the end of his con, a lot of arguments dried up. Sapaki had been a story. The story was over.
(The farther away he kept from her now, the better for both of them.)
“Point,” he said, pulled his lips thin like it counted as a smile, and picked up the pace.
If his chest clenched like his ribs were caving in as he slid into the backseat of the waiting car, Daniel figured it was no better than he deserved.
× × × × × × ×
She’d known something was wrong as soon as he kissed her (stupid move, rookie move). It had felt like slow motion as Bo showed up and little disasters cast shadows on her face. Daniel watched as if from underwater as she realized what had been going on, that whole time she’d let him promise he meant her no harm.
He thought he was prepared for how she’d look at him, until she did. Then he remembered all at once that Suyana dealt with problems, not people, and he was looking at someone who knew how assassinations worked.
It was the best way for her to have looked at him. It would do him good to remember.
× × × × × × ×
The car was new and sleek, and had a fixed barrier between the front and back seats so the driver couldn’t snoop. Daniel watched through tinted windows as they slid past groups of people out for the night, groups of tourists hopping lightly from the street to the curb, couples laughing in one another’s arms.
“Sorry about that,” Bo said.
It was calm, and so vague that Daniel wondered if the backseat was bugged, but there was that same edge of loss that reminded Daniel more than one person could be played in a con like this.
“Not a problem.” He tried to summon some charm. After a moment he added, “I’ll always remember what you did for me back there.”
“I bet.” But he didn’t move, and he didn’t speak to defend himself, and after another heartbeat he turned to look out his window.
So that’s enough, Daniel thought, even though his chest was tight. Be done, until you can do something about it. Fight one thing at a time, if you’re planning to win.
He looked out the window and took a couple of breaths, tried to focus. Outside, a knot of girls dressed in sequins sparkled for a moment under a streetlight.
“So,” Daniel said, “we’re headed to a job interview?”
“You had your interview. We’re going to meet the team.” Absently, like it was reflex, Bo touched his temple where the camera was.
No wonder Bo had been so careful about what he said. Of course there would be audio. Snaps were always recording. Snaps never missed a story.
To stave off panic, Daniel reminded himself that friendless wasn’t the same as powerless. A snap who joined an agency had advantages; transparency was a decent excuse. A snap could be in a position to profit anytime things fell apart.
Maybe his new boss wanted to see what a young Face would do when you baited her with her worst enemy.
After too long, he said, “All right.”