Shadow Bound

“What’d he do?”

“Doesn’t matter. The point is that if I let the bastard get away with something small now, he’ll try something bigger next time.”

Kenley hung the dress in her closet. “It was about the basement, wasn’t it?” she said, and when I didn’t answer, my sister sighed. “The blood’s dry now, but there may be enough for a decent binding, if I dampen it. I could make him leave you alone.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I fight my own battles.” As well as most of hers.

“What happened in the basement, Kori?” She spoke with her back to me, like she didn’t want to see my face when I answered. Like she already knew I’d lie.

“Nothing.” Some lies between sisters are okay. Some are forgivable. Some are unavoidable.

Mine was all three.

Kenley sighed, but she let it go. “Come on. I’ll make you a sandwich.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re skinny. You need to eat.”

“Yes, Gran.” I rolled my eyes again, but followed her into the kitchen and sat at the bar while she made two grilled-cheese-and-tomato sandwiches, both for me. My mouth was watering before she’d finished buttering the bread.

“How bad is this, Kori?” she asked, as she set the first one in front of me on a paper plate.

“Looks good from here.” I picked up the sandwich and Kenley frowned at me—she knew damn well that I knew what she really meant.

“What’s gonna happen if you can’t sign him?” she asked, and I set the sandwich down, my appetite suddenly gone.

“That won’t happen. I’ll get him.”

“But if you can’t? If he’s only here to eat, drink and be merry on Jake’s dime? What’s Jake going to do, Kori? Tell me the truth. You owe it to me.”

She was right about that, but I couldn’t give her all of it.

I exhaled slowly and met her gaze across the counter. “He’ll kill me.” Slowly. Jake wouldn’t want me to die without having time to truly suffer first.

But I couldn’t tell her the rest of it. I couldn’t tell my sister what would happen to her if I failed.

Because I wasn’t going to let that happen.

Six

Ian

After Kori left, I sat on one of the couches in the front room and stared at the door for a solid five minutes, trying to figure out what I’d said to send her fleeing into the night. I couldn’t remember a woman ever running away from me before, and I certainly hadn’t expected that from Tower’s liaison.

Whatever I’d done, I couldn’t afford to do it again. This was my only shot. Tower trusted me—as much as he ever trusted anyone who wasn’t bound to him—because he’d approached me, rather than the other way around. If I got caught, he wouldn’t fall for the same trick again. But it wasn’t just his trust I needed.

I lay in bed half the night, trying to figure out how to get Kori to trust me enough to reintroduce me to her sister. Maybe even take me to Kenley’s house, or leave me alone with her somewhere else. Anywhere else. Because the alternative was too horrible to contemplate.

I didn’t want to kill Kori’s sister in front of her, but I would, if I had to. I’d do it for my brother, and for everyone else who’d ever been bound against his or her will by Kenley Daniels.

Few could have done what Kori’s sister had done to my brother—most Binders weren’t strong enough to make a nonconsensual binding stick. But Kenley wasn’t most Binders. She had an extraordinary amount of power, and as long as she wielded it like a weapon—or let someone else wield her power like a weapon—she was a threat to the general population. As was anyone pulling her strings.

Which was why Kenley Daniels had to die.

Bringing down Jake Tower was a bonus. It was also the carrot I’d dangled in front of Aaron, a die-hard Independent activist, to get him to help with the research and intel.

The plan had been simple, at least in theory. Kill the Binder, and those she’d bound would go free. By Aaron’s estimate, in the six years Kenley Daniels had been working for Tower, she’d sealed bindings not only for most of the new recruits, but for most of the existing employees who’d reenlisted during that time period.

Jake Tower was the king of a castle built around a single, crucial cornerstone—Kenley Daniels. With her death, he would lose the majority of his workforce—the legion of indentured servants blood bound to follow his every order—and with them, his power and influence.

The whole recruitment ruse was intended to put her within my reach. She was supposed to be my liaison to the Tower syndicate; I’d described her in perfect detail.

Kori wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d never even met my brother, and she hadn’t bound anyone to Jake Tower, which made her useless to both me and Aaron. But she was all I had, so I’d have to make it work.

When she knocked on the door the next morning, I was as ready as I was going to get.

“Nice boots,” I said as she stepped past me into the living area. “They should make it even easier to run away.”

“Meaning?” But I could see the truth in the tense line of her shoulders. She knew exactly what I meant.

“You ran out of here last night like the hotel was on fire.” I headed into the bedroom and her quick, angry footsteps followed me.

“I wasn’t running, I was … drunk. Too much vodka. I didn’t want to puke all over your hotel room.”

I glanced at her from the closet doorway. She’d gulped from the bottle like a pro, without even flinching. Kori Daniels might have been a lot of things, but she was not a novice drinker. Yet there was something new and vulnerable in her expression—something fragile and caged—and that surprised me so much I decided not to push the issue.

I selected a tie and stood in front of the mirror to knot it, watching her reflection fidget while she watched mine. She was uncomfortable in silence, and her hands needed something to do.

Interesting.

“So, what do you want for breakfast?” she asked, when the silence became too much for her. “There’s a restaurant in the hotel, or we could try—”

“I ordered room service,” I said, giving the knot a final tug to tighten it. “Should be here in—” A knock came from the suite door. “Right about now.”

She followed me to the living area and stood with her arms crossed over her chest while I signed for the food and the waiter laid it out on the table. “I thought we were going out for breakfast.”

“We were. Now we’re not.” I handed the bill back to the waiter and he left, while she continued to scowl at me. “I ordered a little of everything. Take your pick.” She opened her mouth to complain—I could see it on her face—but I spoke over her. “And don’t tell me you’re not hungry. I hate it when women starve themselves to achieve some stupid physical ideal that only looks natural on a twelve-year-old. Men don’t want women who look like children. Not real men, anyway.”

Her eyes narrowed and I could almost hear her teeth grind together. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched her, waiting to see her head explode. She opened her mouth to start what would surely have been an award-worthy string of expletives. But then she saw my face.

“You’re baiting me,” she accused, hands propped on her bony hips.

“Yes.” I started uncovering plates, stacking the domed covers on the coffee table. “You are the most interesting thing Tower has shown me so far. But I do think you’re too thin. Will you eat with me?” I sat at the table and pushed another chair out for her with my foot.

She stood for a moment, watching me. Considering. Then she glanced at the plates steaming on the hotel table. “Fine. But I call the waffles.”

“I’ll split them with you.”

After another moment of consideration, she nodded.

We rearranged food on the plates, splitting the eggs and bacon as well, unwrapping silverware and passing salt, pepper and tiny bottles of syrup back and forth. When I was full and her plate was empty—Kori ate an entire Belgian waffle in under three minutes—I set my remaining food in front of her and leaned back in my chair, watching her from across the table. Studying her.

Reminding myself that she was a means to an end. A tool. Nothing more. No matter how fast my pulse rushed when she looked up, and I realized I’d never seen eyes with such depth, like everything she’d ever seen was still in there staring back at me, daring me to take a closer look.

One moment she looked vulnerable and bruised, and I wanted to bandage wounds I couldn’t even see. Then a second later, that woman was gone, and in her place stood a fierce hellcat, angry at the world and spitting flames with every word, and I wanted to poke her just to see the sparks fly.

I couldn’t figure her out. But the more time I spent with her, the worse I wanted to, and that was dangerous. Kori was dangerous. Tower knew what he was doing when he sent her. How could anyone spend more than five minutes with her and not be fascinated by her? Not want her?

Focus, Ian. Play to win.

“Okay, this is your moment.” I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair. “I am rested, fed and as receptive as I’m going to be. Tell me why I should join the Tower syndicate.”

Kori hesitated with her fork halfway to her mouth, egg yolk dripping into a puddle of leftover syrup on her plate. “Right now? Just like that?”

I nodded. “Wow me.”

She lowered her fork slowly and stared at me from across the table. I’d thrown her off balance, and I was a little relieved to realize that was even possible. “Well, obviously there’s a steady paycheck. A nice one, considering the strength and rarity of your Skill.”

I shrugged. “Every job pays. What will I get from the syndicate that I’m not already getting as a systems analyst?”

Kori laughed out loud, and I almost joined her. Then I remembered to pretend that it was perfectly plausible for me to sit behind a desk all day weighing the pros and cons of various software options for a billion-dollar company, when the truth was that I lived more than an hour from the nearest internet connection, connected to my family only by satellite phone.

Too bad that part of my cover story was set in stone.

“What’s so funny?” I demanded, though I could easily have answered that question myself.

“Can I answer in the form of a list?” she asked, and I nodded, curious now. “The fact that you think you’re getting anything out of being a systems analyst is hilarious. The fact that I don’t even know what a systems analyst does is even funnier. Then there’s the fact that you are a systems analyst. I knew that, but now that I’ve met you, I just … can’t see it.”

“People are rarely what they seem to be at first glance,” I said, trying to pretend I didn’t agree with every thing on her list. “It’s my job to analyze systems. It’s your job to tell me why I’d like answering to Jake Tower more.”

Her smile faded, and I wanted to take it all back. But I had a part to play.

“The apartment.” She set the fork down and pushed her plate away. “I know you haven’t seen it yet, but it’s really—”

I shook my head. “Dig deeper. You’re still throwing money at me, but this isn’t about money.”

Kori frowned, and her eyes narrowed like they did when she got irritated—a pattern I was already starting to recognize. “Of course it’s about money. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need cash.”

“Is that why you joined? For the money?”

Her frown slipped a little. “I don’t give a shit about the money.” But I’d already known that. She hated champagne and hors d’oeuvres. She preferred boots to stilettos. This was not a woman interested in wealth or social visibility. “I had my reasons.”

I wanted to hear her reasons. Badly. But if she’d wanted me to know, she would have told me. “I have my reasons, too.” And that may have been the truest thing I’d said to her so far.

“Does that mean you’re going to join? Or have I fucked this up already?”

There it was again, that vulnerability. That depth in her eyes, and the way she held her breath waiting for my answer.

“That means I’m going to give you another shot. Tomorrow. Maybe by then you’ll have figured out what carrot to dangle in front of me.”

“This isn’t a fucking game, Ian,” she snapped, and I smiled. I couldn’t help it.

“That’s the first time you’ve said my first name. And of course this is a game. Right now, you’re losing.”

She stood, hands flat on the table, eyes flashing in anger. “You can put on a suit and sit in front of a keyboard every day for the rest of your life if you want, but that’s not going to change who and what you are. You’re a Blinder, and a risk-taker. A thrill-seeker.”

I shook my head, ready to deny what I already recognized as truth—words from my own head, falling out of her mouth. But she cut me off before I could speak.

“I saw your face when you let the shadows fade around us last night, and I know that look. Darkness is in you, Ian. It’s part of you. You’re not going to feel whole until you’re free to live in the shadows of your own creation, and that’s not going to happen for you as a fucking systems analyst. But it can happen for you in syndicate service. And if you’re going to join one, you might as well join the best.”

“And do you really think the Tower syndicate is the best?”

Kori blinked, and I glimpsed something she was about to dance around, without actually denying—a trick syndicate employees learned quickly. “You will never find a better financial opportunity than what Jake is offering you. You’ll never find a syndicate with better security or fringe benefits. But if you go into this thinking you can work Jake Tower with a smile and a joke, he will roast you alive, feast on your flesh, then pick his teeth with your fucking bones.”

“That may be the most honest thing you’ve said yet.” But I felt my smile slipping. “Colorful, too.”

Kori sank into her chair again, and I watched her face as understanding bled into fear for a moment before her defenses slammed into place and left me staring at a carefully blank expression. But she couldn’t undo what I’d seen. She’d shown me a glimpse of the gritty reality beneath the shining surface of Tower’s empire, and that wasn’t supposed to happen. At least, not until I had a chain link tattooed on my arm.

“So now what?” She gripped the arms of her chair like it was all that was holding her up.

“Now you take me out on the town. Show me the syndicate in its natural habitat.”

“Why?” she demanded. “Is there anything I can show you that’ll make a damn bit of difference?”

“Why else would I be here?”

Kori sat straighter, eyes flashing again, this time with new understanding. Possibility. “You need something from him.” I could practically see the bulb flare to light over her head, and I wanted to smile. “I’m a bad recruiter. I’m a suck-ass recruiter, but you haven’t even flinched over anything I’ve said or done, and that means you need something bad enough that you don’t care what you’d have to sign to get it.”

I arched one brow at her. “I do care what I’d have to sign over. But I also know that nothing in life is free.”

She frowned, like that cliché meant more than it should have for her, and I wondered what she’d paid for whatever she got out of signing with Tower. “So tell me what you need, and I’ll get it for you.”

I shook my head slowly. “That’s not how the game is played.” Because if she knew that what I needed was her sister’s corpse, she’d try to kill me where I sat. So why was I more disturbed by the thought of being hated by her than of being killed by her?

“Fuck the game. I don’t wanna play.”

“You don’t have any choice,” I said, and fury rolled over her in waves almost thick enough for me to taste.

“Don’t ever say that to me,” she growled, her hands clenched around the chair arms so tightly I was afraid she might break them off.

I exhaled slowly, backing carefully away from whatever psychological land mine I’d nearly stepped on. “That’s not what I meant. You have to play the game because I have to play the game. I want something Tower won’t want to give. Which puts me in a pretty difficult position.”

Kori actually rolled her eyes. “I don’t think you fully appreciate how badly Jake wants to secure your services. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t give you, if you ask nicely and do a little ass kissing. Money. Car. Apartment. Women. Hell, men, if that’s what you like.”

“I don’t—” I started, but she spoke over me.

“Recreational chemicals …” Drugs, of course. “Fine art. Exotic pets. A surrogate mother for your unborn child. He’d give you nearly anything, short of his own wife and kids.” She stopped abruptly, forehead furrowed with a sudden unpleasant thought. “Please tell me you don’t want his wife. Asking for Lynne would get us both killed.”

I scowled, repulsed by the thought. “No, I don’t want his wife.”

“What, then? Tell me, and I’ll get it.”

I arched both brows, trying to hide a grin. “You should be careful what you offer a man you just met. What if I asked you to kill someone for me?”

“You wouldn’t.” She leaned back in her chair, obviously comfortable with her assessment of me.

“You don’t know me, or what I want, or what I’m capable of. But I’m telling you that what I need, Tower’s not going to want to give me. So if you want to make your boss happy you may have to go around him to get it. Are you willing to do whatever that takes?”

Kori watched me, her expression carefully blank, her gaze steady and colder than I’d seen since the moment we met. “Maybe you belong here after all.”

Seven

Kori

“It all begins with the grunts. The foot soldiers, with just one chain link,” I said, when we were far enough from the doormen that they wouldn’t overhear me explaining the inner workings of the Tower syndicate to a man without marks.

“The bottom layer of the pyramid?” Holt said as we crossed the covered hotel entrance and stepped onto the sidewalk, greeted by honking horns, the bite of exhaust, and what little breeze reached downtown from the river.

“Exactly.” I wasn’t sure how much he already knew, so I started from the beginning. “This is the rank I highly suggest you skip, and I don’t think Jake will balk at that, if you ask nicely.”

“What’s he like?”

“Jake? He’s disciplined. Patient.” In the same way a cat is willing to wait as long as it takes for the best shot at its prey. “Jake likes order. Rules. Straight lines and neat little boxes. I couldn’t walk a straight line even stone-cold sober and neat boxes tremble in my presence. Which is probably why I’m constantly in trouble.”

“You? Trouble? I am shocked and appalled.”

I glanced up to see Holt watching me with no hint of a smile. “You may be the most sarcastic man I’ve ever met.”

“It’s a gift.” We stopped at the corner, but only had to wait a second for the light to change so we could cross the street. “So, what is a grunt’s primary duty?” Ian asked as soon as we stepped onto the opposite curb.

“Depends on the color of the mark. Rust is the most common. A rust-colored mark means unSkilled muscle. They’re sentries, on the lookout for anything that doesn’t belong. And they’re everywhere, whether you see them or not. They do much more than the police to keep crime rates down on this side of town.”

Unauthorized crime, anyway. No one intervened when Tower ordered someone found, punished or killed. But that was one of the things we didn’t talk about. One of many.

Ian glanced at the people all around us, carrying shopping bags, having breakfast at the outdoor tables spilling onto the sidewalk from various restaurants, or just rushing to and from wherever they had to be on a Saturday morning. “What’s green?” He nodded toward a woman stepping out of a coffee shop with a cardboard container of steaming paper cups. The two chain links on her arm were the color of tarnished copper.

“Green is for unSkilled service. She’s a secretary, or accountant, or something like that. She’s not muscle, but she’s not Skilled, either.”

“And there are red marks, too, I assume?”

“Yeah. Red for the skin trade, same as for most other syndicates, but they don’t work on the street. Private appointments only. Their clientele is established and wealthy, and unlike Cavazos, Tower marks them on their arm, same as all the other initiates. He doesn’t see the point of either degrading or hiding them by putting the marks on their thighs.”

Holt’s brows rose. “Prostitutes are people, too?”

“It’s just another way to serve.” I couldn’t spit the lie out fast enough. “Of course, whatever you want would be on the house—at least until he marks you.”

Ian scowled, and I wasn’t surprised. Jake was right; Holt didn’t want a whore.

“And your mark?” he asked, glancing at the half sleeve covering the top quarter of my left arm.

“Iron-colored links are for Skilled initiates, no matter what the position. I’m security, obviously, though no longer on Tower’s personal guard.”

“Why not? Did Tower get a splinter on your watch?”

Yeah. A big metal splinter to the chest. “Something like that.”

“So, after you recruit me—assuming you recruit me—what will your job be?”

“I don’t know.” I would never work as Jake’s guard again, nor would I be trusted to protect his wife or kids. “General security, maybe. Like the guards stationed every where at the party.”

Ian grimaced. “That sounds boring as hell.”

But I’d take boring over the basement any day.

“What would I be doing?” he asked, as we turned another corner.

“Whatever Jake needs done. Blinding the opposition. Punching holes in a defensive infrared grid, so his men can get in.”

“But we’re talking about crime, right? Criminal enterprise?”

I hesitated, trying to decide what he wanted to hear, and how best to merge that with the truth. “That sounds a little …”

“True?”

“Yeah.” I frowned. “That sounds a little true. Also, insufficient. Not all of the syndicate’s business is illegal. Some of it’s just highly discouraged by legal, spiritual and political authorities.”

“Semantics.” He brushed off my reply with an ironic grin. “What are we talking about? What’s his bread and butter?”

I hesitated, weighing my options.

“What’s wrong?” Holt glanced at me as we stepped onto another crosswalk. The light changed before we were halfway across the street, but no one bothered walking faster.

“I’m not sure I’m allowed to answer the kind of questions you’re asking now, but I’m supposed to do whatever it takes to keep you interested. Which means I’m walking the line between a couple of conflicting orders.” And if I actually got caught between them, my body would tear itself apart trying to obey both at once.

“I’d never intentionally put you in that position,” Ian said. “So if I ask something you can’t answer, just tell me and I’ll withdraw the question.”

I frowned up at him, trying to decide whether or not he was serious. Nice guys didn’t usually last long in syndicate life. Neither did nice girls, which was why I’d signed on to protect Kenley.

“Have you ever been bound?” I asked, and his sudden, startled look darkened quickly into something I couldn’t interpret.

“No. So, no, I’ve never felt resistance pain, if that’s what you’re getting at. Nor have I been caught between conflicting orders. Have you?” he asked, watching me carefully, and I nodded. “What’s it like?”

“It’s like dying, in slow motion. One piece of you at a time …” But my words faded into silence when a pair of unfamiliar eyes caught my gaze from several feet ahead on the sidewalk. I pretended not to notice, but it took real effort to keep tension from showing in my step. The stranger had glanced at me, but his gaze lingered on Ian, and his casual stance was as false as my grandmother’s teeth.