Page 68 of Pride: Kneel Before None

He was playing to my ego. I knew it. He knew it. And he wasn’t wrong about Sevenfold having the best in terms of security for its assets. Money flowed in and out of here in obscene volumes. Admittedly, it mostly flooded in from the pockets of weak-minded gamblers instead of trickling back out.

Rip continued his pitch, sounding like he’d concocted the grandest plan since the invasion of Troy.

“Once I find a qualified buyer, I move the product back out, and we negotiate a portion of the proceeds for your hospitality. Easy money for you.”

I tilted my head with curiosity. “And what makes you think that I’m willing to store anything for you?” He had to be mental to believe I would scratch his back at the risk of exposing my throat to the powers monitoring Superbia’s Glayze problem.

There was no flinching. He straightened himself in his seat, taking his filthy shoes off my damn conference table and setting them back on the floor.

“Because,” he began with an edge to his tone—the type of edge that preceded a vague threat— “I have it on good authority that one particular sibling of an exceptionally fine-looking woman is scheduled to go before Blackscale’s Board of Execution.”

An audible hitch in Eve’s breathing beside me punctuated his statement.

The red crept in at the edges of my vision.

Before I could respond, Rip raised his hand as he stood from the chair.

“Don’t get your runes in a twist, Reynard. As an upstanding member of Superbian society, I have enough pull with the members of the Board to sway leniency.”

A dark chuckle filtered past my lips as I pulled myself upright, shoulders drawn back tight. The only part of Superbia’s population where Rip could be considered influential was amongst the likes of feral sewer demons that fed on their own excrement.

My Little Spade stepped forward, but my arm stretched out in front of her to keep her from interfering. I’d handle this my way.

“Is that right?” I scanned the sickening sight of his face, which looked like bile that had dried on top of flesh.

“You see, Rip. I don’t negotiate with those beneath me. I don’t negotiate where I know I have the winning hand. And let’s face it, I am the house edge.”

The energy in the room practically crackled with raw power, ready to bleed out of me, and Rip’s arrogance seeping out of his porous skin.

He lifted his chin as he let tension stretch between us.

“Does your pride so easily blind you, Ace? You have been so busy playing cards that you haven’t realized that you’re standing on a chessboard. I’m offering you a place on that board, and yet you are so quick to reject me? I thought you were wiser than that.”

The final strand of my fraying patience snapped violently. My eyes bled over with fiery wrath, and the Knight of Hell was breaking through my runes all over my body.

“You disrespect me in my domain?!” The words thundered through the open space, rattling the windows and vibrating through the empty glassware of the wet bar beneath the mounted letters spelling out the name of the room.

The metal O in the word Omega rattled loose violently, swinging on a hinge several times before coming loose entirely. It crashed down onto the empty tumblers and decanter, shattering them much like my self-control. All that remained in its wake was Executive Conference Hall mega.

I took one step forward, prepared to leap across the width of the table before me to tear into this bastard.

Only I was stopped, my energy dimming instantly at the feel of my Little Spade clutching onto the back of my arm. I turned my head with the sharpness of a predator assessing its surroundings, only to find her eyes in a still blankness and the precognitive waves of energy around her pushing against me.

She saw something I didn’t.

Keeping a watchful look on Rip from the corner of my eye, I monitored her carefully. Whatever she saw was rippling through her, fast and furious.

When she finally blinked, her chest heaved from exertion, and she stumbled forward. Instinct to protect what was mine overrode all my rage. I turned and grabbed her arms, steadying her before her knees buckled.

One arm wrapped around her waist and the other supported her back to keep her upright against my chest.

“Eve,” I rasped, my voice still bearing the rough press of Hell’s energy thrumming through my body. “What is it?”

Her eyes swam with moisture, tears pressing at the boundaries of her lids. “H-he’s lying about the Glayze. The supply isn’t his to store. He’s just the middleman trying to stow it away,” she warned, her voice shaking with breathlessness.

The truth sank into me, hitting with terrifying clarity. My head turned towards Rip. I pinned him with the look of someone who had just discovered his attempt to bluff the best card shark from Superbia to Lucifer’s Throne.

“Looks like you’re someone else’s pawn, Rip. You want to tell me who you’re working for? Because make no mistake, when I find out who it is—and I will find out—I’m going to watch your pathetic house of cards topple down, burying you with whoever is behind this little scheme of yours.”