The Candy Shop War, Vol. 2: Arcade Catastrophe by Brandon Mull Page B

together.”
    “Patience,” Victor said. “Nate might be acquiring important intelligence. We wait for the call.”
    *****
    Cleon escorted Nate to an office, opened the door, and stepped aside. Nate entered. The door closed behind him. Cleon had not followed him in.
    An Asian woman sat behind a large desk, typing on a laptop. The office was nothing fancy. A bulletin board on one wall displayed shift schedules along with some charts and graphs. Piles of paperwork cluttered the desk, spread among a few knickknacks, including a tiny hula girl and a fancy snow globe. Two chairs were positioned in front of the desk, facing the woman.
    “Are you the director?” Nate asked.
    She held up one finger, eyes down, still typing briskly with one hand. Her fingers rattled against the keyboard so quickly that Nate wondered if she might be typing nonsense. Then she looked up, stood, and smiled. Her hair was short and tidy. She was fairly tall. She wore a blouse with a blazer over it.
    “I’m Katie Sung,” she said professionally, extending a hand to Nate over the desk.
    Nate stepped forward and shook it. Her skin felt cool, her grip limp. He noticed that her nails were short.
    “I’m Nate.”
    “Nathan Sutter,” she agreed. “Have a seat.” She indicated one of the chairs.
    Surprised and perplexed that she knew his full name, Nate sat down. “You own this place?”
    “I wish,” she said, her smile widening. She sat. “I’m the director here, appointed by the owner.”
    “Am I under arrest?”
    “A peculiar question. Should you be under arrest?”
    “Not unless it’s illegal to be good at arcade games.”
    Her smile faltered. She brushed her fingertips together. “Uncommonly good. Your friends too. Supernaturally good. Are you chewing gum?”
    Nate froze mid-chew. Busted.
    “Did I say something to upset you?” she pressed.
    “I just felt like I was back in school for a minute. My teacher last year wasn’t a fan of gum chewing.”
    “You were in fifth grade?”
    “Yep.”
    “I don’t mind the habit,” Katie said. “Not unless it allows kids to sink hundreds of free throws in a row.”
    “Performance-enhancing gum?” Nate asked, trying to sound incredulous.
    Katie settled back in her chair. “You tell me.”
    Nate shrugged. “Sounds ridiculous.”
    “As ridiculous as hitting the ten toughest targets in the shooting gallery over and over again? As ridiculous as winning the Shooting Stars jackpot at will?”
    Nate rubbed the wooden arms of his chair. “Is this arcade for losers only?”
    “We don’t mind winners, Nate. We like winners. Actually, we adore winners. But we prefer winners to use their natural abilities.”
    “Felt natural to me.”
    Katie closed her laptop. “Why are you here, Nate? You and your three friends. What are you after?”
    “You could probably guess.”
    “You won nearly ten thousand tickets in just over an hour. Humor me.”
    Nate folded his hands. “If you don’t want people to go after your stamps, don’t offer them as prizes.”
    “And why would you want a stamp?”
    “Because I’m curious. Anything worth so many tickets must be amazing.”
    “Indeed,” she said. “Enough prattle. I know who you are, Nate. I know you were involved with Belinda White, and you’re now involved with Sebastian Stott. Did he send you to spy on us?”
    “Belinda who? Sebastian what?”
    “Don’t play dumb. You’ve insulted us enough by taking our tickets.”
    “Mr. Stott would rather I wasn’t here. He thinks you guys might be dangerous.”
    Katie leaned forward. “And what do you think?”
    Nate knew he could be in trouble if he didn’t play this right. He grinned. “I think I like magic candy. And I think you might have some.”
    “Magic what?”
    “Exactly.”
    Showing a hint of a smile, Katie regarded Nate silently for a moment. “I don’t know what sort of operation Sebastian is running, but this isn’t a game.”
    Nate snorted. “You have games all over the