S he grinned up at me and then turned serious. She started chewing on her lip again.
“Stop that,” I murmured.
“Huh?” she replied.
The atmosphere in the kitchen had taken a turn. Clove wasn’t drunk. And yet she was looking at me as though she was.
This is one of those mortal things, isn’t it? This is part of what Jam said at The Night Owl. How Clove wants me.
In our embrace, there wasn’t space even for the smallest mote of ash to fall between us. Her skin began to glow a soft pink. Like how the sky here looked at sunset sometimes.
“You’re glowing,” I informed her.
“That happens sometimes,” she admitted, staring at my lips.
Someone entered the kitchen, and Clove jumped, turning to see who’d come in.
When she saw it was one of the servers, she gave me a sheepish look and touched one of my fingers. “Sorry.”
The server glanced up. “Oh! Clove. And… uh… what was your name again?”
“Luc Vale.”
“Right,” he said. “You have someone asking for you. By the name of Henna.”
We entered the dining area to find Madame Debshire’s tailor and niece sitting at one of the tables.
Worry creased her face. She was pale in that gray sort of way that suggested lack of sleep or sickness.
“Henna,” I greeted her, sitting down. “Lovely to see you once more.”
She tried to smile, but it was too pinched to be convincing. “I’d like to hire you two.”
Clove’s brows rose. “I’m not very good with shoes, Henna. I’m flattered, though.”
I placed a hand on Clove’s thigh. “Not in the shop, Clove.”
“Oh. Oh. For that… I see.” Suddenly concerned, she leaned forward and grasped Henna’s hand. “Did something happen? Are you okay? Is anyone hurt?”
Henna looked to either side of her, leaned forward, and whispered, “No. But something has gone terribly wrong. Does your offer still stand, Luc? Can you help us?”
“I need the details.”
“No. I need your word beforehand. I can’t be sharing this with just anyone.”
“Fine,” I said. “Then we can part right now as friends, and I will pretend ignorance. Have a lovely day, Henna.”
Clove gasped, “Luc! What do you mean?”
I shifted to stand.
Just as I expected, Henna broke. “Wait! Okay, okay fine.”
I sat, and Henna muttered a spell.
In the middle of the loud Night Owl, sound dampened to a soft hum. An almost imperceptible bubble of mana covered us like a shield.
Henna explained, “Sound spell. So no one can hear us.”
That one’s useful. I’d have to learn it.
She began her story. “For the last year, Madame Debshire and I have been selling black market demonic items.”
Clove clapped a hand over her mouth.
Henna sighed. “Yes, the illegal stuff too. She’s an ambitious woman and wanted to expand the business.
“But with the Mayor’s taxes and the ridiculous licensing fees needed to sell legal demon gear and items, it was going to kill the already slipping business.
“A few of the shops in the city were dabbling in the same area too. She saw it as a new, unclaimed market. With her experience and savvy, I knew she could succeed.
“And well… maybe she succeeded too well. Within six months, she was the top buyer and seller on the demonic black market.
“Three weeks ago, she went to an underground market and purchased several crates of demon bone. At an incredible discount. But I could tell she didn’t feel entirely right about it.
“Demon bone is extremely rare and expensive. Despite her instincts, she went through with the sale.
“It only took a few days for the first letter to reach us. We were being blackmailed. Either we pay three times the amount for the demon bone, or the Mayor would get an anonymous letter accusing us of… well, exactly what we were doing.”
Clove leaned forward. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
Henna, with tears in her eyes, nodded.
I said, “Tell me about the break in.”
Henna shrugged. “That was just to send a threatening message. To let us know that they could get to us anytime, anywhere. And now?”
She covered her mouth as tears began to fall down her cheeks.
“Now, they took Madame Debshire. She told them no. She said she wouldn’t pay.
“She’d already moved the product to a new location, a secret location, and they couldn’t steal back the product either. She said that this was a defining moment for her in the business. That if we could hold our own and come out on top, we’d be one of the main players in the city, and no one would mess with us so casually anymore.”
Clove moved around the table and sat beside Henna, giving the girl a hug. “You must be so stressed and scared. I’m so sorry, Henna. I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”
I asked, “And what do you know about the kidnappers? Do you know where they operate? How many people are involved?”
She sniffed. “Yes. Sort of. I have their organization name. And their leader’s name. But I have no clue how many people are there.
“I have until midnight tonight to return the bones and pay four times their value. We don’t even have that kind of money, Luc. I thought about going to the Mayor and telling him everything, but…”
She sighed. “What’s the point of that? He’ll just take my aunt and lock her up. She’d fucking hate that more than anything, and the business will fall. We’re supporting our family with that shop. It can’t fall. We have to get her back and set this back to normal.”
Glancing away, she added, “Considering the danger level? I don’t even have the available funds to pay you. Nothing liquid, at least. You’d have to be okay with a few installments.”
“You’ll pay me,” I assured her.
Her face fell. “I doubt it. Not what you’ll ask.”
“But you haven’t heard my demands. I want the demon staff.”
Her mouth fell open. “Wait! I can actually do that! Auntie will kill me, but her life and our family’s livelihoods aren’t worth a stupid bone staff. Deal. And you can do it by midnight? Tonight?”
“Yes. However, it is not just myself who will be going.” I addressed Clove. “I assume you’ll insist on coming?”
“Of course! But I don’t have any demands.”
“Yes, you do,” I corrected.
Henna looked nervous. “Okay… what is it?”
“Yeah, what is it?” Clove echoed, bemused.
“Gloves.”
Henna nodded, her mind working. “Yes. I can manage that too. Very well. It’s a deal.”
* * *
“This is so creepy,” Clove complained, examining her new black gloves. “Demon hide… so gross.”
We were crouched and watching one particular building and one single entrance. Without looking away, I countered with, “What’s the difference between this and those cows and sheep you kill and harvest? Demons are the same, except they’re predators that wish to slaughter you.”
She shuddered. “That doesn’t actually make me feel better.”
“You should be wearing them all the same. Trust me. You will not regret it anytime soon.”
Demon hide that’s been properly processed by a skilled craftsperson will last three times as long as any other leather, and is extra-difficult to pierce.
I suspected that it was going to be a constant desire of mine to find things that protected Clove even just a little bit more.
The door opened, and we both ducked a little further down. We were about twenty minutes of a walk away from The Night Owl. Near the docks, where it was more industry and shipping, as opposed to residential.
The waves crashed and boats knocked against the docks in the distance.
The sun was down, and there was only the dim glow of a torch beside the door.
And then a man approached the door. He removed his hat, revealing a bald head and an odd red scar up his neck and scalp.
“That’s the man Henna described,” I said. “He’s the one who kidnapped Debshire.”
“Yup!” Clove agreed. “Luc?”
“Yes?”
“We’re not going to like… die or anything? Are we?”
“Are you confused about the plan?”
She shook her head.
I patted her shoulder. “Just remember my signal. And don’t worry.”
She didn’t look convinced but activated her staff anyway. “I’ll wait for it.”
I left her on the rooftop. Cloaked, my demon staff stored safely on my finger, I approached the door.