Sitting behind the big chabacho-wood desk, Allison leaned back in Dan’s chair. With a long fingernail she tapped at her incisor teeth and studied the empty corner where Dan’s safes had stood. The room looked remarkably empty without them.
She glanced at the ledger book on the desk. Business was down fifteen percent since Dan’s departure.
Dan’s last words echoed in her memory: “Taglioni’s got a way to fix it for me. I’m going back before I’m inclined to cut that beautiful throat of yours, or worse, wake up with your knife sticking out of my heart. You, babe, are going to run my interests here. Fifty-fifty. And don’t fuck with me, or I’ll send someone back to slit you open from your ribs clear down to your cunt.”
All of which gave her hope. If plunder was what it took to get Dan back to Transluna in spite of his background, she’d be a shoo-in when the day came.
At a hesitant knock, she closed the ledger, calling, “Come in.”
Dek Taglioni stepped through the door and hesitated, looking around the room. “It’s just not the same without those brooding safes, is it?”
“I have Lawson welding me up a new one. Sturdier legs this time.”
He walked over, glanced at the whiskey in its blown-glass decanter. “You mind?”
“Help yourself.” She arched a trim eyebrow. “I assume your visit has some purpose beyond a free drink?”
“Just thought I’d drop in and see how things are.” He poured two glasses, bringing her one. Then he seated himself across from her.
She gave him a smile as she met his yellow-green eyes. The healing scar on his cheek didn’t spoil his good looks, if anything the blemish added to the allure. Lifting the whiskey in mock salute, she said, “So, spill it. What irresistible proposition have you come to dazzle me with?”
“Straight to business, I see.”
“In my world, business is all there is. So, here you are. A rich Taglioni. Handsome as all get out, and with that cute dimple in your chin. Dan’s gone. Thank you very much. So, what’s your pitch?”
“I did you a favor.” He spread his arms, palms up to indicate the room around them. “Must be a relief to sleep at night without having to tread on eggshells. There’s easier ways to make a living than playing Russian roulette with a stone-cold psychopath.”
“Living with Dan has been both terrifying and educational . . . and I survived four years of it. Trust me, once I figured out what he was, I never underestimated what he was capable of.” She gave him a narrow smile. “Or any man, for that matter. All of which leaves me very wary of you.”
“I was wondering if you might need any of my . . .”
Another knock at the door. This one insistent. Kalen Tompzen called, “I’ve got him, ma’am.”
“Excuse me.” She stood, calling, “Kalen, bring him in.”
She stepped to the back table, dropped her hand to the shelf built into the wall.
Tompzen—his face like a mask—opened the door and straight-armed Pavel Tomashev into the room.
The part-time miner, hunter, and prospector had a reddening bruise under his right eye. The man’s chamois-hide shirt and pants were filthy and scuffed, as if he’d been dragged for a distance in the street.
Pavel blinked, swallowed hard, and fixed his eyes on Allison. “Hey, listen. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking when I shot off my mouth. So, like, Ali, I won’t do it again.”
Pavel’s exact words had been, “If sweet Ali thinks I give a shit, she can come suck my cock.”
Allison gave him a humorless smile. “No. You won’t. But your stupid fucking mouth aside, you walked out on Shin Wong owing the house almost five hundred siddars. Four hundred, ninety-seven to be exact. Is that right Kalen?”
“Yes, ma’am. And another fifteen that he stiffed Vik for drinks.”
Tomashev winced. “Yeah, yeah. Five twelve altogether. Listen. I was drunk. Shit happens when I get drunk. I’ll bring it around soon as I can round it up.”
“Put your hand out on the table. That’s it. Palm down. Perfect.” She smiled, fingers curling around the handle where the pick hammer lay on the shelf. With a fluid move, she swung the geologist’s hammer in an arc. Drove the sharp point through the back of his hand, through flesh, bone, and tendons, and into the wood beneath.
Pavel let out a blood-curdling scream, tried to jerk his hand away. Immediately gave that up as a bad idea. He stared at his impaled hand, wide-eyed and panting. Just as he drew breath to protest, Kalen laid the blade of his knife against the man’s gulping Adam’s apple.
Allison leaned close. “Pavel, you will pay us what you owe us. Immediately. Now, the talk around town is that with Dan gone, sweet little Ali’s going to be an easy mark. Not nearly so scary as that psychopathic throat-cutting Dan Wirth was.”
She paused, watching the fear-sweat bead on Pavel’s face. “What do you think? Should I give Kalen that special nod of the head that says, ‘Do it?’ You know, just so people know that sweet Ali’s not a fainthearted little flower that just anyone can pluck?”
The man’s bugged eyes were fixed on the spiked hammer. Blood was beginning to seep out around the steel. “N—No. I got the plunder, Ali. Don’t need no throat-cutting. I’m good for it.”
“I figured you’d be. Not to mention that I know how it is to be a little drunk. I’ve done some foolish things myself when deep in the cups.” She gave him a saucy wink. “So it’s a good thing I’m sober, huh? If I’d been drunk—and pissed off like I am now—I’d be even more enraged when I sobered up tomorrow and had to clean up all of your stinking blood.”
She worked the point of the hammer loose and pulled it free; Pavel clutched his bleeding hand to his chest.
“But, you’re right about one thing: It’s not the same as when Dan was in charge. He’d have thrown you out in the alley to bleed. I wouldn’t do that.”
“Y-Yes?”
She told Kalen, “Take Pavel over to Raya’s. Have her set his bones, sew his tendons together, and what have you. We don’t want him lamed up, not when that latest strike of his out in the Blood Mountains is showing color. And wait, seems to me that The Jewel has a half interest in the proceeds from that claim, right, Pavel?”
“Y—Yes, ma’am. It’s in the papers. Dickered it with Dan.”
“Nice to know your memory is good. Now, don’t let anything else slip your mind.”
She gave Kalen the nod, and he removed his knife, steered the weeping Pavel Tomashev out, and closed the door.
Allison, sighed, inspected the blood dripping from her pick hammer, and wiped it clean with a rag. Retreating to her desk, she laid the hammer on the ornate wood with a clunk and seated herself before retrieving her whiskey. “Sorry. Like I said. I only do business these days.”
Taglioni had an amused twist to his perfect lips. “Good. Because, along with cadging a free drink, I’m here for business. Now that Dan’s gone, would you have any objection to me running a game at your tables now and then?”
“House gets fifty percent of your take.”
“Twenty-five. Not to mention that being the only Taglioni on the planet, my presence brings a certain cachet to the place.”
“I think we can see our way clear for thirty-five. Same as the tables pay off. Any other interests?”
Here it came. How long before he wanted to bed her? Tonight? Or was he thinking to make a longer play of it? Try and convince her it was true love?
To her surprise, he said, “Nope. That will do. At least for now. Sometime, in the future, as things progress, however, I’d like to talk to you about some of the properties you hold.” He stood, tossing off his whiskey. “But that is for another day.”
At the door, he gave her a respectful salute with his index finger. “Good night, Allison.”
And then he was gone.
“Oh, brave new world,” she told herself, and drained the last of her whiskey.