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We all eyed them warily, but the woman simply gave us a mild smile. “We’d appreciate it if you’d please sit down at the table. Our boss will be with you shortly.”
“Your boss?” Wylder demanded. “Who the fuck is that, and where the hell are we?”
The woman didn’t flinch at his hostile tone. She motioned toward the table. “Please, just sit, and he’ll explain everything.”
I exchanged a glance with the guys. This was all very weird, but wedidwant an explanation, and it didn’t look like we were getting out of here easily anyway. We were probably better off finding out what we were up against.
We nodded in mutual understanding and turned toward the table, but Wylder hesitated. “What time is it?” he asked the woman. “How long have we been here?
“It’s just past noon,” she said without needing to check. “You arrived about an hour ago.”
His shoulders came down an inch. The funeral had been scheduled for four o’clock, if I remembered right. He’d still have a chance to get there… if this “boss” had any intention of letting us leave after he’d given his explanation.
We walked over to the table and by unspoken agreement sat in the chairs facing the door. I’d rather have a wall at my back, and I’d bet the guys felt the same way. The three figures who’d ordered us to sit there sauntered over but stayed standing at the edges of the room.
I shifted on my seat, itching for answers. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long. The door opened again, and a silver-haired man stepped into the room, flanked by two other men who looked like bodyguards.
The man in the middle was obviously the guy in charge. He wasn’t all that tall, but his broad shoulders filled out his expensive suit, and he gave off an aura of power that quivered over my skin even from across the room. His slate gray hair was slicked close to his knobby skull, which made his thick eyebrows stand out even more over his penetrating eyes. As he walked over to the table with even but unhurried strides, I placed him in his mid to late fifties.
He was a total stranger. I’d have remembered that face if I’d seen it before. The guys’ expressions showed the same confusion I felt.
The man sat in the seat in the center, opposite Wylder. His bodyguards stayed standing behind the chairs on either side of him. He considered Wylder, then me, then the other guys, his gaze returning to the Noble heir after a moment.
“Wylder Noble,” he said in a smooth conversational tone, and tipped his head to me as well. “And Mercy Katz. The heirs to two of the most powerful gangs in Paradise Bend, even if that’s not saying much.”
I bristled automatically. “Who the hell areyou?”
He showed no sign that my tone affected him. “I’m the man who really owns everything you believe is yours.”
Wylder’s hands clenched where they were resting on the tabletop. “I thought you were going to explain why you dragged us here. All I’m hearing so far is cryptic bullshit.”
A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of the man’s lips over his narrow, jutting chin. “Cryptic, maybe, but not bullshit at all. There’s a lot you don’t know about how the world works, Mr. Noble. But I know a lot about all of you already.” His gaze flicked along the table. “Kaige Maddon, the enforcer with an anger problem. Rowan Finlay, the negotiator and peacekeeper. And Gideon Whitlock, the brains locked in a body that betrays him.”
Gideon’s back went rigid. “Anyone could have known that,” he said in a low voice as cool as his dyed blue hair.
“I’m only scraping the surface.” The man folded his hands in front of him and gave us a real smile, and just like that, I was sure he meant everything he said. A chill ran down my back.
“I’d still like your explanation,” I said.
“Of course you would. It’ll just be difficult for you to wrap your heads around it.” He drew in a breath. “Let me start by apologizing for the abrupt way I had you brought to me. Time was of the essence, and I didn’t want to risk any complications in securing your cooperation. I’ve done you no harm, and I’ll let you go once you’ve heard my proposal. I’ve been watching the situation in Paradise Bend for some time now, and it’s become clear that you could be valuable allies there.”
“Allies in what?” Wylder said. “What proposal? Why should we listen to a damn thing you say?”
The man fixed his gaze on the Noble heir. “Because I really do own every inch of ground and every brick on every property you consider your own. Did you honestly believe that the Nobles were the highest level of power a criminal organization could reach? You have lesser gangs paying tribute to you, and in turn those above you take their cut.”
Wylder frowned. “We don’t pay tithe to anyone.”
“Oh, but you do. Those of us higher up simply have more subtle ways of collecting our dues.” The man cocked his head. “Haven’t you wondered about the recent surge in conflict in your county? Where all these unexpected intruders are coming from and why?”
“Are you responsible for that?” Kaige burst out, looking ready to jump over the table and throttle the guy if he said yes.
The man chuckled darkly. “No, I’m trying to put a stop to it. It’s actually very simple. I’m part of a group of thirteen who call ourselves the Devil’s Dozen. We each have a code name: I go by ‘the Long Night.’ Between us, we control all the illicit and underground businesses throughout the world. Each of us has holdings on various continents, our own territories that we rule over from behind the scenes and benefit from. Every criminal who rises at all above the level of petty pickpocket answers to us, whether they know it or not. And Paradise Bend is part of my domain.”
“I’ve never heard anyone mention the Long Night or the Devil’s Dozen,” Gideon said.
“Which speaks to our expertise in secrecy.” The man who called himself the Long Night smiled thinly. “Most who get far enough to find out that much about us are either working directly for us or don’t live to tell the tale elsewhere. You can consider yourselves a lucky exception—for now.”
I wasn’t sure if I bought his story, buthesure seemed to believe it. Another shiver ran down my back. “Are you going to tell us why you’re making an exception?”
