All That Bleeds by Kimberly Frost Page B

him a wounded look as she strode out of the room.

    There were a lot of girls having their faces cut to look like Alissa North’s, but the syndicate wouldn’t invest in creating a ringer as a novelty item. They had a reason. Merrick suspected the Alissa look-alike had been part of their insurance policy. The girl didn’t have muse magic and wasn’t a good enough impersonator to send anywhere as a live copy, which meant they’d intended for her to turn up as a body. If Alissa North were dead, no one would look for her, and Cato Jacobi could have kept her as a pet for as long as he wanted. At that thought, Merrick clenched his jaws and glanced in the direction of the hall. If Cato wandered by, Merrick would cheerfully bust every bone in the asshole’s body.

    Don’t get distracted. There’s more to this than just keeping her as a blood whore.
If Jacobi and the syndicate had kept Alissa North prisoner long-term, someone in the Varden would have found out. Rumors would have eventually filtered back to Etherlin Security, who would have certainly investigated. Maybe the syndicate had planned to move Alissa outside the Varden?

    Merrick’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the head of the ventala syndicate. At five foot six, a hundred and fifty pounds, Victor Jacobi didn’t look like much. Plenty of fools had underestimated him and ended up with their windpipes crushed.

    “Merrick, it’s good to see you,” Victor said, briefly claspingMerrick’s hand between both of his before moving around his desk and sitting.

    “And you.”

    “Sit,” Victor said with a gesture.

    Merrick sat in the large leather chair across from Victor’s desk and waited.

    “So here we are,” Victor said. “I remember when you came to see me when you were seventeen. We were having that problem in Puma Park. Five murders and nobody could catch the bastard. You said if I paid you, you’d take care of it for me, and I could be the hero who hired you.” Victor laughed. “Cocky little bastard. So skinny you could’ve fallen through a crack in the sidewalk.”

    “That was my secret. I turned sideways, and the quarry couldn’t see me coming.”

    Victor barked out another laugh. “You didn’t look like much back then, but the eyes don’t lie, and you had it—that stare the old vampires have.”

    Victor knew Merrick wouldn’t consider that a compliment, but Merrick stayed with his back resting casually against the chair.

    “I think maybe that’s why you always wear sunglasses around humans. So they don’t see it.”

    “What can I do for you, Victor?”

    “We go all the way back, Merrick. You’re an asset that I brought into the syndicate. I’m sentimental about that kind of thing.”

    Merrick smirked. Snakes were more sentimental than Victor.

    “Which is why I’d really hate to kill you.”

    Merrick’s expression didn’t change. No need to get agitated when they were just getting started with this dance. If Victor had made up his mind to have Merrick killed, he would never have let Merrick into his office where he’d be too likely to take Victor to hell with him.

    “Conversations are like drinking packaged blood: the longer it takes to go down, the worse it tastes,” Merrick said. “If there’s a problem you want me to fix, lay it out.”

    “We know you took the girl from Cato’s balcony. You candeny it, but c’mon, Merrick. Nobody else is that smooth. Get into his territory, put the guards down, get the girl, and get out. Practically blending with the shadows? Plus, there’s the way you move. With such economy, like an animal or a machine. No motion wasted. You probably don’t even know you do it, but it’s your signature as sure as your palm print or that vampire stare most ventala don’t have.”

    Merrick waited. Something was coming, but Merrick wasn’t sure what.

    “Two things I don’t know. The first is why.” Victor rested his arms on his desk and leaned forward. “Why do it?