Shit, is it Tuesday?I had dry cleaning to pick up!
”So, how do you know the Whisper?” I asked as she led us farther and farther down the block, even past where we’d met the guitar tuner.
“You’re not from around here,” she said simply, like that was an answer at all. And while she was right, that didn’t mean I appreciated it.
“What makes you say that?”
“Besides the obvious, it’s rude to ask how people have made their connections. In this place, it comes across as you trying to replace the middleman. And you wouldn’t want to do that, would you?”
“Nope,” I said brightly. “We wouldn’t want to do anything like that!”
Clearly, I’d just made a bit of a faux pas that outed us as even moreotherthan we came across. I did what I did best: bluffed as hard as I could.
Maybe it was working, maybe what I said didn’t matter because we were being led into a trap. Either way, I supposed I would be finding out soon enough.
Eventually, when we were almost to what I assumed was the edge of the expansive block, the same strange feeling I got when we first approached the invisible magical barrier came over me again.
“Just can’t help the natural curiosity, you know? Especially when not knowing can have lethal consequences.” Not being able to judge her emotional reaction flustered me.
“It can indeed.”
Finally, we stopped at a rotted door on one of the more run-down buildings, the second one from the barrier as far as I could tell. But this time, when we entered, I wasn’t surprised that it went from something that looked like it was one Big Bad Wolf breath from collapsing onto itself to an ostentatious greeting room that would have been right at home in a Russian-mafia-inspired McMansion.
That’s probably a combination of words that has never been put together before in the English language,I thought to myself. Just as that thought flitted through my head, I noticed we were not alone.
Around a dozen burly men and magical folks of varying levels of lethality were gathered throughout the large space, a few playing cards at a table, a couple talking over by a bookcase, and several quietly enjoying a drink. However, all that ground to a halt when we entered, eyes boring into us like a baker’s dozen of sniper sights.
Strangely enough, it was a relief. Unlike the woman we’d followed, their emotions were brightly on display, and most ofthem were flashing surprise and distrust at our entrance. People who set traps weren’t surprised when their prey stumbled into them. They were proud, triumphant even. Notsurprised.
“By all means,” I said, for once not really thrilled about being the center of attention. “Don’t stop on our behalf.”
Naturally, none of them listened to me. And that was when I noticed their gazes weren’t on us at all. No, they were on the woman, who was now walking away from us to ascend to the throne-like seat at the opposite end of the room. The tall chair was covered in plush, red velvet and nestled comfortably on a stone dais.
Ah.
So, the woman was the Whisper.
Not the biggest twist, but it certainly had me wondering why she was risking her own safety walking around the open part of the bazaar. Or maybe she didn’t have to worry about being in danger here? Interesting. Even though everyone we met so far had been varying levels of civil, the black market of illicit trades was more of a dog-eat-dog place rather than a safe haven for people to do their business. It wasn’t exactly giving the Continental from John Wick vibes, after all.
“I believe you wanted to meet with me?” she said with a sly smile. While a lot of my brain was dedicated to keeping my expression pleasantly neutral, another part of it was calculating everything I could about her.
As far as I could tell, we weren’t stumbling into some sort of grand scheme. No, judging by her actions, her amusement, and well…everything,I got the impression that the woman was just bored.
Well, I could work with that.
“Yes. You see, word on the street is that you have information on a hit that went out yesterday, which we’re a bit late on. A big-ticket one, that a ton of hired killers are going for. Me and mypartner here have been traveling a long time, and we’re tired of the little leagues. We want to prove ourselves with a splash, you know?”
The woman chuckled, but I was distracted from the sound when I saw little tendrils of technicolor amusement bleeding into the air around her.
Wait a minute now!
“Oh yes, I’ve had interesting tales reported to me about two outsiders going around to all sorts of trades, all different, yet somehow asking the same question. As amusing as those stories are, I’m more interested in the truth.”
Those tiny little wisps of levity grew stronger. With them were zigzagging shapes of bright-green interest zipping this way and that.
Shit! It’s not that she doesn’t have an emotional signature like whoever killed Paul’s father!
She was just masking.