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Jianyu’s hands went immediately to the deep pockets hidden in his tunic to check that his bronze mirrors were still there. Relief swept across the sharp features of his face, making him appear every bit as weak as he truly was. It was exactly as James had expected: Jianyu would never go anywhere without them. Depending on the trinkets made him vulnerable, just as depending on Dolph Saunders to protect him had made him a fool.
“If you try to leave, Werner’s outside to ensure that you stay,” James told him. “So sit. We have things to discuss.”
“I have nothing to discuss with you.” The words were spoken through clenched teeth.
“Ah, but I think you do,” James told him.
Delightful, really, the anger thrumming through Jianyu. He showed it so rarely, but James had always known it was there, hidden behind the careful facade. Few realized what Jianyu was capable of. They thought him quiet and still, but James had understood the truth almost immediately. He’d used it when it suited him before, and he’d use it again. After all, anger was such a helpful emotion—so easy to use against the one who carried it.
Standing, James made his way to the small kitchen area at the rear of the apartment, unconcerned with whether Jianyu would stay or attack. He already knew that Dolph’s old spy would do neither. The Aether had felt off since the day he took care of Mooch. Now it shivered and bunched, anticipating a new path, but James understood that Jianyu was no danger. Not yet. He poured two cups of whiskey and brought them back to the sitting area, where Jianyu waited, still strung tight as a bow.
He offered one of the cups. “Take it,” he commanded, when Jianyu at first refused. Then, after he’d pushed one glass into Jianyu’s reluctant hands, he dragged a chair over, turning it so he could straddle the spindly back. He took his time drinking from his own cup.
“Not thirsty?” he asked when it was clear Jianyu had no intention of drinking. He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He drained his own glass and set it aside, enjoying the way it burned a little, warming his chest and urging him onward.
“What do you want?” Jianyu asked, setting the cup of untouched liquor aside.
“I thought I’d already made that clear. I’d like to talk,” James said with a guileless smile. “Can’t a couple of old friends have a simple conversation?”
“I am no longer your friend,” Jianyu told him coldly. “I think perhaps I never was. And I am not interested in this conversation. I have nothing to say to you.”
“Well, I imagine that’s a lie,” James said, keeping his voice affable, light. “I’m sure there are any number of things you wish to say to me.”
Jianyu only glared at him.
“We don’t have to be enemies, you know,” James said, taking a sip and trying to call up the old version of himself, the boy that no one suspected. “We could work with each other. Fight the Order. Take control of the streets of this city. Together. As Dolph would have wanted.”
“You killed Dolph,” Jianyu said simply.
“You know that I had to,” James told him.
“I know no such thing.”
“He would have destroyed the Brink,” James explained, though in truth, he didn’t need to explain anything. He could have simply commanded. But for now the Aether whispered patience, and so he spoke gently, attempting logic and persuasion… and saved his final cards for later.
Jianyu’s brows drew together, and James could see when the truth registered.
“You’ve talked to Esta,” James said. “You know Dolph was wrong. The Brink can’t come down, not without destroying magic. Dolph never would have accepted that answer. He was obsessed with destroying the Brink, because he thought that was the only way to destroy the Order. He was so convinced the Book was the solution that he never even considered the danger. How could he know more about the old magic than any of us and never realize that it’s all connected? How could he not understand that to destroy even one part of it would have doomed us all?”
“That is not why you killed him,” Jianyu said.
James let his mouth curl, just a little. “Don’t paint him as some kind of saint, my friend. You know he wasn’t. None of us is.”
Jianyu didn’t speak. He simply regarded James with his usual stony, unreadable stare. But all around them the Aether trembled and bunched, and he knew that Jianyu was calculating his chances of escape.
“I have no intention of keeping you here indefinitely,” James told him truthfully. Why should he keep Jianyu a prisoner when he was so much more useful out in the city, stirring trouble and the Aether along with it. “Once we’ve finished our little discussion, you’ll be free to go.”
Jianyu snorted his disbelief.
“I’ll find you again if I have more to discuss,” James assured him. Then he finished his drink and set the cup aside. “Or Logan will.”
“So talk,” Jianyu said. “What is it that you want from me?”
James did smile then. Jianyu might have had more of a backbone than most suspected, but he wasn’t a formidable opponent. He was barely even amusing.
“I want what you stole from the Order.”
Jianyu’s gaze fell, briefly, to the ring glittering on James’ right hand. “You already wear the Delphi’s Tear, there on your finger.”
