“Bring him on down.”
“Roger that.”
I wasn’t sure exactly why Xavier wanted to see me, since to my knowledge the giant didn’t have any money that needed hiding from the IRS, but maybe he’d surprise me. I’d be happy to help him move some cash around— for a small fee, of course.
Five minutes later, Celia knocked on my open door and gestured for Xavier to step inside. He maneuvered around her and came over to my desk.
“Thank you, darling,” I drawled at Celia, then gave her a saucy wink. “That will be all.”
Despite the fact that she was a dwarf who’d just celebrated her three hundredth birthday a few weeks back, Celia blushed, her cheeks going scarlet underneath her smart coif of silver hair. She returned my wink, let out a small giggle, and closed the door behind her.
Xavier shook his shaved head. His ebony skin gleamed dully underneath the lights. “You and the ladies. You never cease to amaze me, Finn.”
I grinned. “I never cease to amaze myself either.”
Like most giants, Xavier topped out at around seven feet tall, with a thick, muscular body that was incredibly strong. We shook hands, and I could tell that he was taking care to keep his grip light, something my more fragile human bones appreciated. A navy suit paired with a white shirt covered his solid frame. Nice cut, quality fabric, perfectly draped. It looked good on him. I always appreciated a well-made suit, even if it was on another man.
I sat back down in my chair and gestured for Xavier to take the seat opposite mine.
The giant settled himself in the chair, looked around the office, and let out a low whistle. “Damn. I should have been a banker like you, Finn.”
I’d been at the bank almost ten years now, ever since I’d gotten out of finance school, and as a result, my office was one of the biggest ones on this floor, the third one underneath the lobby. Stevens’ office was located here too at the end of the hall, while the bank’s vault was one more floor down.
I’d decorated the office myself in a style that was unapologetic, in-your-face, ostentatious comfort. I had the best of everything in here, from the thick Persian rugs that covered the marble floor to the first edition volumes on the bookshelves to the Brighton’s Best whiskey that gleamed in its bottle inside the antique liquor cabinet. An L- shaped sofa made out of supple suede took up the better part of one wall. Both sections of the sofa pulled out to make beds, which it made it convenient to entertain my more amorous clients here in my office instead of having to leave the bank and drive all the way over to my apartment.
My desk was a massive affair that was eight feet wide and had almost as many secret compartments in it as the vault did safety deposit boxes. All those little hidey holes and false bottoms where were I kept certain supplies. Passports, a small bag of diamonds, a few bricks of cash, my guns and the ammunition for them. When you swam with the sharks like I did, you never knew when you might need to get out of town in a hurry or take care of a particularly demanding customer. My father, Fletcher Lane, had prepared me for those eventualities and many, many more.
My only real concession to modern functionality was the TV that was mounted on a stand off to my right. Currently, it was tuned to a closed circuit feed of the bank lobby and showed people coming and going, tellers cashing checks, and more. In addition to working with clients, I also had a hand in security around here, thanks to the various favors that the bank’s higher-ups had owed to my dad. Besides, I liked to keep a vigilant eye on things money-related.
“Investment banker,” I said, correcting Xavier’s earlier statement. “And yes, it pays very, very well. Especially in a place like Ashland, where so much of the population has so much money to hide—and so many bodies too.”
Xavier nodded, but he didn’t smile at my dark humor. Normally, cracking a joke about what a corrupt, violent city Ashland was would get a small chuckle from the most jaded resident. No, the giant was all business today. Pity.
“So what I can do for you, Xavier?” I asked. “Because as much as I like you, I know that you just didn’t come down here to shoot the shit with me today.”
The giant hesitated, staring down at his shoes. Then, he raised his black eyes to mine. “I have a problem.”
Well, that certainly hadn’t been what I’d expected him to say. With his size and strength, there weren’t too many problems that Xavier couldn’t take care of himself, especially given the fact that he moonlighted as a cop for the Ashland Police Department.
“Oh? What kind of problem? What do you need my help with?”
“It’s not that I need
I raised my eyebrows. The Gin he was referring to was Gin Blanco, my foster sister—and the assassin known as the Spider. Gin wasn’t just any assassin though—as the Spider, she was one of the best in the business. At least, she had been. She’d retired a few months’ back after my father and her mentor, Fletcher Lane, had been murdered. Now, Gin spent her time running Dad’s barbecue restaurant, the Pork Pit. But she hadn’t forgotten one second of her training—and would whip out her silverstone knives without hesitation if she thought that there was a need for them.
“And what do you think that you need Gin’s help with?” I asked, my voice calm, my face giving nothing away.
I wanted to see exactly what Xavier knew about what Gin did—and how much of a threat that the giant might be to us.
I leaned back in my seat, putting my feet up on my desk like I didn’t have a care in the world. The movement let me surreptitiously hit a button on the desk. A panel slid open, revealing a small revolver. The gun was within easy reach, and depending on what Xavier said or did, I might have to use it before our meeting was over. His wouldn’t be the first blood to stain my rugs. If anything, it would give me an excuse to redecorate. I was getting rather tired of my current red-and-black motif.
I studied his position in the chair, mentally lining up the shot just in case. I’d have to shoot him through the eye, of course, since giants had notoriously thick skulls, but it wouldn’t be that difficult. Not for me. Gin might be the assassin in the family, but Dad had taught us both how to kill. Despite Gin’s skill with knives and her Ice and Stone elemental magic, even she admitted that I was better with a gun than she was.
“Well, first, I guess you should know that Roslyn and I are sort of … involved now,” Xavier said.
My eyebrows climbed a little higher in my face. This just kept getting more and more interesting. Roslyn was Roslyn Phillips, the vampire madam who ran Northern Aggression, Ashland’s most decadent nightclub. Xavier happened to be the head bouncer at the nightclub, the guy responsible for making sure that everyone stayed more or less in line. That’s where I knew him from, since Northern Aggression was my favorite place to go trolling for female companionship after a long day at the bank. Xavier always let me in past the velvet rope. Of course, I always slipped him a Benjamin or three for his trouble, but still, I liked to think that we were friends too.
“Involved?” I asked. “So you and Roslyn are together now?”
“Sort of. I mean … man, it’s just … complicated.” He winced a little. “I hope you don’t mind me talking to you about this. I know that you and Roslyn used to be … friends.”
We’d been a little more than that. Roslyn and I had been known to hook up on occasion for a night of sex, wine, and pleasant conversation, followed by some more sex. In fact, I’d called her just last week to suggest that very thing, since I was in between paramours at the moment, but she’d politely declined.
First Clarissa and now Roslyn. I wasn’t sure how much more bruising my ego could take.
“Sure,” I said in an easy tone. “Roslyn and I are friends. But if you’ve hooked her, then congrats to you. Because she’s beautiful, man—inside and out.”
For a moment, Xavier smiled. And it wasn’t just any smile. No, he practically
Xavier cleared his throat. “Anyway, there’s been a … problem at the club lately. And from some things that Roslyn has said, I thought that Gin might be able to help.”
