If I told him the truth and somehow he worked for Esteban—at this point, I was just assuming anyone I crossed paths with could be one of his goons—he could use my information against me. If I lied, then it was highly likely I’d be sent home and this lead to find Sol would dry up.
I leaned back into the couch and waved at him. “Can I get one of those if we’re doing this?”
His eyes popped open, and he surged to his feet, depositing his glass on the table again. “Of course. My apologies, most who come here refuse to even sit, let alone have a drink with me.”
He crossed to the bar in the corner and made a drink for me. Unidentifiable amber liquid over ice. His options seemed limited. Maybe because he only kept his own brand in here thinking no one else wanted anything.
With a flourish and a grin, he handed me the glass. I cupped it between my hands and braced my elbows on my knees. “I need to find a magical metalsmith to hel
p me negate a magical weapon.”
He paused in raising his glass to his mouth and then lowered it back to his lap. “What kind of weapon?”
“The magical kind, as I said.”
“Let’s not play games, Ms. Sallix. What sort of weapon? It will help me determine if I can help you or not.”
The memory of Esteban’s blade plunging deep into the Captain flashed in my mind. I beat the painful memory back with a large gulp of the whiskey and resettled on the chair to hide my shaking hands.
“This is a special kind of weapon that makes an unhealable wound.”
He narrowed his eyes and drained his glass in one long gulp. “I’ve heard of this blade but I’m sorry to say it’s impossible to protect against. The only thing a person struck by it can do is bleed out and hope it happens quickly.”
“Well, there are loopholes as my friend outside and I found when he got cut up by it. But the prospect of repeating the healing process after its use doesn’t appeal to either of us. Especially him having already endured it once.”
His gaze narrowed, feeling even sharper, more determined. As if he were delving deep inside me for one of these described wounds. I didn’t know what he found.
When he relaxed and glanced away again, he was frowning heavily. “I don’t believe you and yet you’re not lying.”
I took a long draw from my drink and let it burn down to my belly. “That’s up to you, but if you can’t help me then I’m not going to stay here and keep chatting. I need to spend my time finding someone else who can.”
He clapped his hands on his knees and stood in one smooth motion. “That might be best.”
A phone rang from his vicinity before I even had time to stand.
He answered it without speaking. The volume on the other end was too low for me to hear. Then he hung up just as abruptly.
Who the hell was this man and why did I want to be him when I grew up?
Then he turned his attention back to me, his posture stiff and tone brittle. “Well, it looks like you’ve intrigued someone. I must allow you to meet my friend.”
“You don’t seem so sure about this. I promise, as long as they don’t try to hurt me, I won’t hurt them.”
He folded his hands, still towering over me. “I believe that is true, however, I don’t trust my friend’s ability to say no to a situation they should not involve themselves in. A situation that might not turn out good for anyone.”
I was beyond tired of the back-and-forth and subtext I didn’t have the inclination or brain power to comprehend. “Look, I’m not trying to get anyone else dragged into the mess Fin and I are in. We fully intend to rectify our situation ourselves. All we need is a little help to even the playing field.”
“Well, at the very least, she wants to hear what you have to say.” He waved at the door on the other side of the room. “If you’ll follow me?”
I let him lead me out of the room, but I brought my drink along for the ride. We walked through a few non-descript hallways with watercolor landscapes lining either side, then down a set of stairs.
When we reached another set of stairs, I paused. Even though the entire path had been well lit, and so was the landing below, I distinctly remembered being dragged under a big house and subsequently tortured in various ways.
“Do we have to do this down there?” I asked.
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and glanced back at me. “Just this way, please.”
I took a long inhale and wrapped my free hand around the rail attached to the wall. If I didn’t need this contact, and to take Esteban’s weapon out of the equation, I’d walk back upstairs right now and never come back. The Captain lying beside me in my dream was the only thing that spurred me further even as my self-preservation instincts clamored for freedom.