it.”
“Danica,” Vago smiled. His accent wa s heavy, something European. “Do you know why I have taken you and your friends under my wing?”
“‘Under your wing?’” Danica laughed. “Are you kidding me? You have us doing free work for you. ”
“In exchange for my help.”
“We were supposed to be gone already,” she said. “If you would’ve helped us out quickly like you promised, my friends and I wouldn’t be hip-deep in shit right now.”
“You should count yourself lucky,” Vago said slowly. “Your Revenger friends want you. Badly. And I’m the only thing standing in their way.”
He was right, but she’d never admit it. From what little information she’d been able to get out of him, T he Revengers had come to the area near Blacksand for some other purpose, but something or some one had tipped them off about Danica’s presence. Now that they knew she was there they stuck to the area like glue. Danica had never heard of the wardens operating this far south before, but she supposed they’d been bound to run out of easy places to find inmates sooner or later, and the borderlands were a perfect place for harvesting new workers for the mines.
“ After my team gets back, we’re leaving,” Black said. She took another drink, knowing what came next.
“Yes,” he smiled. “ Of course.” He didn’t even bother trying to sound sincere.
Danica didn’t think he actually wanted to sleep with her, or for her to sleep with anyone else. He didn’t really want anything except for her to understand that he could do whatever he wanted, and that she and her friends had no room to negotiate.
I’ve met plenty of men like you. It ’ s all about the power play.
Using Vago’s equipment, Danica had confirmed the large number of Killraven and Black Dog units patrolling Blacksand’s perimeter. Vago’s witches had cast incredibly powerful nullifying enchantments that kept Danica from being detected, but the magic had been specifically crafted only to function while she was in Vago’s proximity. Until Black and the others finished their period of indentured service, they were stuck. T here was no way the y could take on so many Revengers.
“I should be with my team,” she said as she pushed her food away. She’d never been a fan of fish, especially fish that smelled like it had been overcooked and soaked in an extra lair of grease.
“ Danica,” Vago smiled. “ D id it ever occur to you why they might be looking for you?”
“I know exactly why they’re looking for me,” she said.
The Revenger’s perpetual quest for money and power pushed them to do horrible things. It was alarming how quickly even new recruits lost their grip on humanity, and how easy it became for them to disregard the lives they took. She only had to close her eyes for a moment to clearly see Black Scar in her memory: halls of reeking steel and b urning cages, deep pits filled with slick red mud, a choking haze of diamond dust, and the screams of the dying in the steam-blasted halls. The wardens had dug through black rock to a world below, a place filled with raw minerals and gems that kept them comfortable and isolated, rich beyond measure but segregated from the rest of humankind.
She wanted s o badly to leave that place behind, but she knew a part of her would always be trapped there.
Contrary to what she said, Danica wasn’t entirely sure why T he Revengers were trying to find her. She had trouble believing Rake would go through so much trouble over a deserter.
She looked behind Vago and saw his bodyguards, a pair of thick-necked and well-muscled men with long knives and auto-pistols. Danica was surprised he didn’t object to her carrying weapons in his presence, but then she remembered she wasn’t technically his prisoner.
It just seems like it.
“There ’ s an event today,” Vago said as he cracked open a shellfish and slurped out its pasty white innards with his considerable tongue. Danica tried not to look, but the sound he made while he ate was thoroughly nauseating. “I would like you to accompany me.”
“Gosh, could I?” she said flatly. She finished her black bomber, and their waitress brought her another. Danica drank it without hesitation. Her spirit hugged tight against her skin, and she felt him burn with disapproval — she’d already had several of the stout licorice-flavored drinks, and every time she imbibed another he had to clear the alcohol from her blood with a jolt of arcane energy. H e was gentl e enough with Black to cleanse her system without making her vomit, but h is treat ment became slightly less friendly with each subsequent drink.
She’d had to keep him reigned in, and that made them both uncomfortable. The Revengers undoubtedly ha d hunter witches keyed in to hi s particular arcane signature, and even with Vago’s so-called protection, using him for even the simple act of burning the liquor out of her body was living danger ously.
Gargoyles soared overhead, hired muscle used by Vago to keep the peace in Blacksand. From what Danica had seen on the streets and in the docks, they weren’t terribly good at their job.
Someone started the arcane jukebox in the corner. A heavy guitar riff blasted over unintelligible vocals.
“Are n’t you going to ask what sort of event we’re going to?” Vago asked with a smile.
“No,” Black said. “I don’t have much of a choice but to go. It doesn’t mean I have to care. ” She leaned in closer to him. “We’ve been here for almost three weeks, Vago. And while I appreciate your helping us, we are paying you back by assisting your lackeys with every shitty job you throw our way. Now you want to use me as arm candy to go to some gambling den or to make a public appearance at a pit-fight. But know this: my team and I are leaving. And we’re going to do it s oon.” She sat back and took another drink. “And if you try to stop us, you’re going to pay.”
He smiled. His face stretched. T haumaturgic grafts had been laced into his flesh to protect his body from long-term exposure to caustic coastal winds and to shield his mind from psychic intrusion. He looked like an intelligent zombie.
“You are a remarkable creature,” he smiled.
“Yeah. I get that a lot. So…” She lit another cigarillo. God, I do n’t need to get hooked on these again. “Since clearly you’re just dying to tell me…w hat’s the event?”
“A race.”
“Oh, goody,” she said. “Chickens?”
“ Automobiles,” he smiled.
“Oh. G oody.”
Blacksand’s racing arena was a tall and columnar structure made of red steel and dark stone. T he stadium seats were arranged at such a steep angle Danica felt sure she’d tumble out of the stands and back down to the central racing pit if she didn’t step careful ly. Spectators packed the complex. They were ruddy-face d and sweaty- palmed drifters, merchants and runaway soldiers. People desperately clutched cash and coins in their dirt-caked hands, and t heir faces were dank with sweat and industrial oil.
F ueling pits billowed thick plumes of gritty steam. Exhaust and heat turned the air hazy and thick. The arena hummed and vibrated.
Danica, Vago and his bodyguards were seated on the uppermost balcony of the stadium seats, a semi-private box that hung precariously out into open air. Danica felt the sting of salt wind and saw churning clouds in the distance.
The height at which they sat was truly dizzying. H ard winds came in from the sea and shook the structure. The seats were made of hard metal and covered with loose red blankets and imitation wool that smelled like goats. Black didn’t want to use her spirit to shield her self from the cold, so she pulled her armored coat tight and did her best to ignore it.
“I don’t like being this exposed,” she said to Vago. The box was separated from the nearest seats b y metal rails, but she and Vago were plainly visible to everyone around them. “I thought the idea of hiding was to keep a low profile.”
“My dear Danica,” Vago smiled. “You must trust me. I’ve hidden people before. The best place to hide is in plain sight.”
“ It’s also the best place to go if you want to get shot in the face,” she said.
Their seats were located a good 300 feet over the race track. Black was able to make out a surprising number of details from their vantage, like the fact that human skulls bordered the road and that the names of prominent dead racers had been carved or slashed into the concrete.
