Page 63 of Shai

That was a fucking good question, wasn’t it? What could have changed my mind in the space of a few hours? I needed to start talking, and I needed to make it convincing. “Being back here… I’ve realized that it’s pointless to fight you. I had some sort of misplaced sense of pride.” I took a step forward. I was only a few feet away from McIntyre, and more importantly from my target. “I don’t want to fight you anymore. You’re not going to change…” I needed to stroke his ego a bit more, even though every single word of my supposed capitulation burned like acid in my throat. “And why should you? You’re the most powerful man in the city.” Shai would have had something to say about that, but he wasn’t here. He was on the opposite side of the river, no doubt celebrating with Taylor.

Thinking about Shai fired me up all the more. I could do this. I could manipulate McIntyre. And he would never see it coming. To him, I was one of life’s victims, an idiot stupid enough to blunder into a city I had no business being in. I could see that now. But that was the past and I couldn’t turn the clocks back. All I could do was work with what I had. In their own way, McIntyre and Shai had both taught me important life lessons. “You’re the man that everyone else looks up to, the man that everyone wants to be.” Was I laying it on too thick? It didn’t appear so, if McIntyre’s expression was anything to go by. He was quietly smug, as if he was finally getting the adulation that should have been due to him a long time ago.

I took another step forward, opening up more of a space between myself and Harris, who seemed as stunned as the rest of the audience. “You’re the king of this city. Everybody knows that. Even Shai. He knows he can’t compete with you, so the only way he can gain the people’s respect is to get rid of you. He’s desperate. And, rightly so.” I edged a bit closer. “You were here first. This is your city. Not his. He’s just a pretender, a mere shadow that got lucky. He’s realized that now, and he’s beginning to see that he won’t get that lucky again. I want to be on the winning side, and that’s your side.”

McIntyre was nodding now. “I’m glad you’ve finally seen sense.”

“I have.” I nodded along with him for extra emphasis, warming to my role and unable to believe that McIntyre was actually buying my about-face “I’m only sorry I couldn’t see it earlier. I was in denial and then I woke up in the basement and everything was crystal clear.”

“So you’ll kneel for me, Elijah? You’ll pledge your loyalty to me?”

“I will.” I dropped to my knees, so into playing my part that the action

was far easier than I expected it to be. It left me close enough to shuffle forward and press my face to McIntyre’s thigh, his sour body odor filling my nostrils. “I’m so sorry that I was stubborn. I was stupid. Can you ever forgive me? I know I’m not worthy of it, but maybe one day I could be useful to you in some way. I know I don’t deserve to be. I’m just a gutter rat and you’re a king, but you’re a generous man. I know you are.”

I was no longer aware of the words coming out of my mouth. They were

just a smokescreen for what I was doing with my hand, my fingers grazing the Styrofoam container as I blindly reached out. Then it was just a matter of loosening the lid of the bottle one-handed. I cursed the amount of time it took, wishing I’d practiced it earlier. I kept talking, praying that it was enough to keep McIntyre’s, and hopefully everyone else’s attention, on my face rather than on what was happening below the chair.

It was all I could do not to cringe as McIntyre’s meaty paw landed on

my head. Was he going to push me away? He couldn’t. I hadn’t done what I needed to do yet. He stroked my hair and I pushed my head more firmly into his thigh, playing the role of obedient dog for all I was worth. The lid was off the bottle. All I needed to do was tip it into the food. There was no way of looking what I was doing without McIntyre working out what I was up to, so I had to rely on blind instinct and a healthy dose of luck. Surely, I was due some. I tipped the bottle.

McIntyre’s fingers tangled in my hair, the action of him wrenching my

head up so that he could look into my face, tugging my hand away from its target. Some liquid had gone in, but was it enough? It had to be.

Satisfaction was written all over McIntyre’s face as he scrutinized me.

He laughed, letting go of my hair to plant a hand in the center of my chest and shove me backwards. I had enough presence of mind to keep hold of the bottle, wrapping my fingers around it before it could skitter across the floor as a huge red flag of what I’d been up to. I sprawled on the floor, every bruise and abrasion from the earlier beating throbbing in time with my heartbeat.

I made an attempt to climb to my feet, McIntyre holding up a hand to

forestall the action. “Stay there. I like seeing you on your knees. After all, it’s taken me long enough to get you there. I should at the very least get to enjoy it for a while.” He bent over to pick up the container, my heart rate increasing as he balanced it on his lap. He snapped his fingers and someone ran over to deliver a fork. “I can’t think of a better view to look at while I eat.”

I could. Him dying.

It was difficult to breathe as he dug his fork into the curry. How much of the cyanide had gone in? McIntyre was a big man. Therefore, it stood to reason that it would take a bigger dose than most to kill him. If it wasn’t enough, then that was it. I still had the razorblade, but it was doubtful I’d be able to get close enough to be able to use it.

McIntyre brought his fork to his mouth. “I assume now that you’ve come to your senses, that you will tell me everything I need to know about Shai?”

“Of course.” I watched intently as he chewed on the food before swallowing. How long did it take? Had Shai said? If so, I couldn’t recall it. Not that long, though, surely?

McIntyre shoveled another forkful into his mouth. “What are his weaknesses?”

“His weaknesses?”

He raised an eyebrow at me only parroting his words. “Yes, his weaknesses.” His mouth twisted into a sneer. “Apart from having an unhealthy attachment to that employee of his, that is.” He lifted his head to address his men. “Just for the record, if that usurper ever gets his grubby hands on you, you should know that you’re as good as dead. I won’t be cutting any deals for you.”

A chuckle went round the room, McIntyre eventually joining in with it. I studied him while he laughed. He’d eaten over half of the curry, but he still looked absolutely fine. Shouldn’t it have taken effect by now? Shai had said it only took a few drops, and I had to have gotten that amount in. Was it in the part he hadn’t eaten yet? Or was I grasping at straws and hoping for a miracle?

A wave of dizziness engulfed me—withdrawal, injuries, and loss of blood conspiring together to bring me down. I shook it off. I needed to keep my wits about me.

McIntyre snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Weaknesses, Elijah. Concentrate. I want to know what makes the bastard tick.”

I needed to give him something. “I…”

McIntyre began to cough. He plastered a hand to his chest, the