CHAPTER

53

AS STEFAN TRIED to work with a mutant breathing down his neck and muffled music throbbing, like an infected wound, somewhere in the building, it occurred to him that they were probably going to kill him either way. If he failed, they’d kill him out of spite, and if he succeeded, they’d kill him so they wouldn’t have to share the proceeds. No three percent, no twenty K retainer. Gone, just like that. He wouldn’t need it where he was going. That was why they were keeping him here. He couldn’t hold information hostage while they wired money to his account when he was sitting in their prison.

Son of a bitch. He’d worked for plenty of criminals, but this was a whole different level of bad and he was suddenly scared shitless. If he had a future, which was very much in doubt at this point, he was going to have to seriously reconsider his choice of clientele.

The room was cool, but sweat started running down his brow and dripping on his hands. He mopped it with his Metallica bandana and turned to the mutant. “I need to talk to your boss.”

“He’s busy.”

“It’s important. Really important.”

He blinked at him as docilely as a cow, then exited the room.

Stefan flinched when he heard the thunk of the door lock, reminding him of his dire situation. He had to think of a more compelling way to frame his argument to leave. The trouble was, he didn’t have anything to negotiate with. Except money. It was the only thing people like this understood.

He jumped in his chair when the door slammed open against the wall, and Joseph stormed in. His face was red, his eyes were buggy, and a snarl was frozen on his face. This was who he really was, and Stefan realized he’d just made a huge mistake.

“You’d better have good news.”

“I—I have some good news.”

The snarling face relaxed. “Tell me.”

What the fuck was his good news?

“I think I have some solid ideas about how to do this,” he lied. “It’s going to take time, but ideas always come first, right? But, like I said, it’s going to take time, and if I have to work from here, it’s going to take even more time because the environment is distracting. No offense! It’s just not what I’m used to.”

The snarl started to redevelop and Stefan felt his heart ricocheting in his chest. “So—so I’d like you to reconsider letting me go home … without the retainer. We can settle up after. I can do the work faster there, which means you’ll get your money faster.” Stefan held his breath, closed his eyes, and waited for an explosion. When it didn’t come, he lifted his lids slowly. Joseph’s face had gone still. Scary still, scary calm, which was far worse.

He shook his head in disappointment and swept his arm across the nicely appointed room. “All these fine things at your disposal? A stocked refrigerator, a stocked bar, cartons of cigarettes, whatever brand you prefer. Comfortable furniture, the best equipment. A digital sound system that will play any song ever recorded just for you. Yet you can’t work here.”

“No, no, it’s all great.” Stefan rushed and stumbled through the words. “It’s just not ideal, is what I’m saying. I want to be able to perform at my best for you.”

“You’re full of shit, Stefan. Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“No, no—”

“I think you do. I know that if I let you go, you’ll disappear. I would have no problem finding you, but I don’t want to waste the manpower or the energy.” He let out a derisive snort. “And I’m extremely angry that you called me out of a very important meeting to listen to you simper because you’re homesick.”

Stefan instinctively recoiled when he walked over and sat down next to him, his feral face inches from his.

“Have you ever heard the saying that every man owes God a death?”

He shook his head and was too terrified to feel humiliated by the tears running down his cheeks, unaware that his body was trembling so hard, his teeth were chattering.

“God loans you life, but you have to return it on the day of His choosing. It’s the same with the devil. When you make a pact, you owe him your soul.” He smacked the computer monitor and sent it teetering, catching it just before it tipped over. “Your soul is in here, Stefan, and it’s mine. How long it takes you to deliver is your decision, but I’ll tell you I’m not a patient man. And don’t ever ask for me again until you’re finished.”

The concussive slap across his face spun his head sharply to the right and he cowered and covered his head against more blows that never came. When he finally looked up, Joseph was gone and the mutant was watching him pensively. “He really is the devil.”

Stefan sniffled and bobbed his head. He knew that now.