“Nothing,” Hexler said shortly. “I’m here to talk to him.” He jerked his head at Dragon. “A little privacy, please?” he added, looking at the jeweler.
“Of course, of course.” Rep. Gasser nodded and ducked quickly into his back room.
Dragon was instantly on the alert. The jeweler’s shop was located at the nexus of four different Clan territories. It was considered neutral ground, since so many males from all four Clans used it and, as such, it sometimes served as a meeting place between members of different Clans.
Whole peace treaties had been negotiated here in front of the glass cases filled with golden bangles and showy Claiming pieces, but they were usually arranged in advance. Dragon wasn’t expecting to meet with anyone from an opposing Clan today—what could Rep. Hexler want?
“What is it?” he asked abruptly, frowning down at the Saurian. “You have a message for my Sire?”
Rep. Hexler shook his head, his forked tongue flickering.
“No. Gotta message for you.” He poked his long, triple-jointed thumb at Dragon.
Dragon braced himself—he was pretty sure he knew what this was about. Ever since he had left Zerlix’s crew and taken on a crew of his own, his Big Brother had been causing all kinds of trouble all over town. He’d been picking fights with rival Clans—even those that were supposedly allies—and extorting the people they were supposed to be protecting for extra gambling and whoring money. Probably Rep. Hexler had come with a warning that Zerlix had better straighten up or there would be trouble.
“All right,” he said to the other male. “What can I do for you?”
“It’s more like what I can do for you,” the Saurian said. “You were always decent to me, Rep. Dragon. You kept your Big Brother from carving my eye out that time—remember that?”
Dragon did remember—it had been during an altercation with a crew from the Diamond Deaths Clan—an altercation Zerlix had started, of course. The Crimson Blades crew had prevailed and Zerlix had wanted to maim every member of the opposing Clan to “teach them a lesson” as he put it. His suggestion that they chop off the losers’ thumbs or carve out one of their eyes had struck Dragon as needlessly brutal and also likely to bring drastic retaliation.
“They’ve lost, Zerlix,” he had reasoned with his Big Brother. “You don’t need to rub it in—think what they’ll do the next time they beat one of our crews.”
Zerlix hadn’t wanted to give up the “fun” of the causal maiming, but Dragon had managed to distract him by mentioning that a new gambling house had opened in town. His Saurian brother, ever changeable and easily distracted, had allowed the beaten Diamond Deaths crew to go in favor of being first to the tables at the new house and nobody had been maimed.
“I remember,” Dragon said now, nodding at Rep. Hexler. “So what?”
“So I felt like I owed you one,” the Saurian male said, his forked tongue flickering. “I wanted to repay the debt.”
“That’s kind,” Dragon said neutrally. “But I don’t need any money or—”
“It’s not money I’m talking about,” Rep. Hexler hissed. “It’s your woman—the little mammalian female you’re all set to marry.”
Dragon stiffened and a low, protective growl rose in his throat at the mention of Bobbi.
“What about her?” he asked, frowning at the other male menacingly.
Rep. Hexler’s slitted yellow eyes grew wide at the sight of Dragon’s anger, but he kept talking.
“She’s in danger—somebody put a hit out on her. Heard it on the street this morning,” he said quickly. “Supposed to happen at the Market, today.”
Dragon shook his head.
“Bobbi—my bride—hasn’t been with us a whole solar month yet. She won’t be allowed out of the compound to go to the Market.”
“Then you should be fine.” Rep. Hexler shrugged. “Just thought I’d tell you.”
“Thank you,” Dragon said formally.” I appreciate the warning. Do you know who placed the hit?” he asked as an afterthought, though he was pretty certain he knew. It must be a rival Clan—probably one that had been stirred up by Zerlix, gods-damn his slitted yellow-green eyes. They were probably going after Bobbi because Zerlix himself had no wife or favorite female he had declared would be his bride to put a hit on.
But Rep. Hexler’s next words surprised him.
“Dunno who it was exactly,” he told Dragon. “But from what I heard, the hit’s coming from inside your own Clan. Watch your back.”
And then he left, the door alert chattering behind him.
43
“Pretty ladies, come and see my wares,” the Saurian merchant cried. Clearly, he was talking to herself and Keelah, Bobbi thought, since they were the only ones there. He was standing just at the end of the Market, where it led into the blue light district, and she wondered where he’d come from—they hadn’t seen him there just a moment ago when Keelah had been pointing out the place where her old pimp lived.