Page 123 of Demon Touched

“You don’t? Should I ask your partners, then, where the extra ten percent of their profits is really going every month?”

McLieve’s only response is a choking cough.

“Don’t threaten me again, McLieve. I’m much better at playing this game than you.”

The door slams open, and I try to retreat down the stairs as quickly and silently as I can. I see the bottom of McLieve’s pants as he strides angrily past the banister, storming up the stairs to the floor above.

There’s a pause before a second set of footsteps exits the room, only to stop beside the stairs. I’m sure I don’t make a noise, not even a creak, and still Strickland suddenly looks down, leaning over the banister to lock eyes with me.

His eyebrows rise, then fall. “Miss Renova.”

“I was just passing,” I say, feeling a touch ridiculous as I ascend the stairs. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

I figure it’s pointless pretending I didn’t at least see McLieve leaving.

Rather than seeming angry, a curious look shines in Strickland’s eyes, and I don’t miss that he glances down to the corridor below me. He probably thinks I was doing some nefarious demon spying on Syrus’s behalf.

And considering how I was snooping, maybe he’s not entirely wrong.

“Ah, well, as you can see, a politician’s job is never done,” Strickland says, straightening his sleeves. “He’s not safe from pestering even in his own home.”

I could act like I didn’t hear any of it. Even if Strickland doesn’t believe me, it would save us from any awkwardness. But hearing the conversation sparked a flare of annoyance in me I can’t quite snuff out. I know the leaders of Strata care more about infighting and helping out their friends than they do about the regular Joe on the street. I shouldn’t be surprised by what I heard. But I’m standing opposite the chief assemblyman, for fuck’s sake, and after a lifetime of resentment, it’s very hard not to take the opportunity that’s being offered to me to speak my mind about the corruption embedded in Strata’s core.

“So,” I say, crossing my arms. “You know he’s stealing from his partners, breaking the law, but you won’t say anything as long as he stays in line and votes with you?”

He blinks, clearly not expecting such a direct question.

To his credit, Strickland doesn’t tell me to mind my own business.

“Sometimes it’s more useful to keep certain pieces of information to yourself, and then deploy them strategically,” he says evenly.

“Blackmail, you mean?” I try to sound light, but I’m sure my eyes are giving my distaste away.

“You think that’s not the sort of behavior someone in my position should be engaging in,” he says. An assessment, not a question.

I see how careful he’s being with his words, and it rubs me the wrong way. Strickland always seems careful. It makes it hard to trust him.

“It’s not,” I say simply, trying to give him nothing, wondering how he’ll react.

His shoulders slump a little, and he suddenly looks quite tired. “I wish it wasn’t the way, but unfortunately I have to work within the system I’ve been given.”

“You could try to change it,” I point out, and that makes him smile.

“Change can’t happen overnight. At least not here in Strata. I confess that I don’t know how things work in Infernum, Miss Renova, but I’ve learned some harsh lessons growing up in Pax. My family died when I was young, leaving me to fend for myself. I thought once upon a time I could change things without stooping to everyone else’s level, but sometimes, we have to be realistic before we can be idealistic.”

I loosen my arms a little, some of my annoyance dampened by the sincerity in his voice. It’s not like I don’t understand where he’s coming from. It’s not like I ever wanted to scavenge corpses on the plains, picking over the dead. I did what I had to.

“What did you do to make him so angry, anyway?” I say, nodding toward the stairs.

Strickland sighs. “He wanted me to lift a set of fines on his business for trying to buy up a competitor.”

“That’s it?” I ask. “That doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Maybe. But he’s already bought out two others these past two years. A monopoly hurts the average citizen just trying to get by. They have fewer choices, and prices go up, and there’s nothing they’d be able to do about it.”

“Oh,” I say, because just like that, Strickland’s put it in a way I can understand. This, I’ve learned, is one of his skills: talking to people on their level without being patronizing, winning them over just by explaining things the right way.

He nods, seeing he’s shifted my viewpoint a fraction. “It’s important that we don’t let the little person get pushed around. And sometimes that means people like me have to play dirty to protect them. I heard someone put it like this once: we have to claim our power, even if we sometimes have to dance with the darkness to do it.”