“My associates are all respectfully employed in other careers.” Arthur paused. “Well, Jade’s a bootlegger for her family’s speakeasy, sorespectfulmight be relative, but my point is, I’m more of contractor.”
Rory’s mouth opened, then closed. Then he said, “I’m not touching your horrible ring again.”
“You’re the one who broke into my locked briefcase after I explicitly said to keep it closed.” Arthur was gratified to see Rory’s cheeks go pink. “My instructions were for your benefit, not mine. I do know a thing or two about relics.”
“Relics?”
“Come to my apartment in the morning. I’ll make your excuses to Mrs. Brodigan. Come at, say, nine o’clock?”
“Like hell I will.”
Arthur would see that stubbornness and raise him. “There’s a lot in it for you.”
Rory snorted. “Money, I suppose.”
“Lots of money—and not just for you. Do you know the size of Mrs. Brodigan’s debts for her late husband’s medical bills? I do. And I know to whom she owes the money, and they’re not very nice people. They’re—oh, what’s the colloquial term?—mobsters.”
Rory sucked in a breath.
“You didn’t know?” Arthur said dryly. “Of course you didn’t. That dear woman has no one else left in the world and she’ll shelter you like you’re her real blood.” He leaned forward. “Five years she’s been paying on those loans. You come to my home tomorrow for one single meeting and I will make them disappear. Because,Rory, I do want your help, but I can help you back.”
Conflicting emotions danced over Rory’s face. “One meeting and you’ll free her?” He bit his lip. “Youpromise, Mr. Kenzie?”
“I give you my word.” Rory would never know what an easy promise that was to make; Arthur had wiped out the debt that afternoon. “And there are enoughMr. Kenziesin my family already. Call me Ace. Or Arthur, if you absolutely must, but Ace is what my friends and associates call me.”
“I’m not your associate,” Rory said tightly. “And I’m sure as hell not your friend.”
Ouch.
Rory was still curled up on the bed, as far from him as he could get in the dilapidated room hardly bigger than Arthur’s closet. A boy with one of the most extraordinary abilities Arthur had ever heard of lived in this claustrophobic gray, his walls and furnishings uniformly barren and shabby save for the bright quilt on the bed. There was a mousehole in the wall, and Arthur would gamble there were roaches hiding in every cranny, ready to come out when the lights went off.
Just last night, he’d caught Rory in his arms, helped him up to his flat, tucked him into his own bed—
Arthur ruthlessly stamped down the threatening ache in his chest. The urge to rescue was overpowering and he had to leave before he did something rash, like throw Rory over his shoulder and carry him out of this dump.
“Sleep on it,” he said, more brusquely than he meant to, and slipped out, closing the boarding room door behind him.
Arthur Kenzie knows.
Rory lay on his back on his quilt, staring at the dirty ceiling. For four years he’d kept his secret from everyone but Mrs. Brodigan, and he was unprepared for how naked he now felt, his magic revealed to Kenzie—Arthur.
But Arthur’s reaction hadn’t been what Rory expected. He hadn’t called Rory a freak, hadn’t threatened him, hadn’t acted afraid. He’d seemed—interested, like he’d thoughtRorywas interesting.
And that was—interesting.
Rory huffed in frustration. The man was wealthy, charming, and now he’d brazenly admitted that he had a cabal of paranormals contracted for mysterious purposes. The last thing Rory had needed was to find out the most handsome man he’d ever met was also the most fascinating, but apparently Arthur was planning to disrupt everything about Rory’s carefully hidden life.
Because he was going to the meeting at Arthur’s apartment tomorrow. He had to. Not that he believed Arthur would actually pay off Mrs. Brodigan’s debts—
Do you have a single thought about me that doesn’t assume I’m an asshole?
Rory paused. Then he shook his head. He wasn’t falling for pretty words and promises. But even if he couldn’t trust Arthur to come through for Mrs. Brodigan, Rory still had to go to that meeting.
After his magic emerged, he’d been forced to accept his life would be short. His powers were a constant assault on his sanity, and if Lorna McCaffrey had taught him anything, it was that he was ultimately doomed. But after four years of fear, now when he closed his eyes, the fraying string that held him to the present felt more solid, and he could still hear Arthur’s voice in his head.
Then you hold on to me, because I won’t let go.
Rory had to go to that meeting, because he had to know what had happened between him and Arthur.
