“I see you believe in doing things yourself,” Yong said, sneering at the camera feeds covering the walls as if their presence insulted him. “Can’t the most powerful man in the Underground afford to hire competent help?”
“You don’t get to be the most powerful man in the Underground by trusting others to handle what’s important,” the Gameskeeper replied, seeming completely unfazed by the predatory menace that was rolling off my father so hard that even I was starting to sweat. “But let’s not waste each other’s time. You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t want something, and I wouldn’t have let you in if I didn’t want to hear it, so…”
He sat down after that, spreading his fingers above his desk in invitation. My father obliged.
“I’m here to make a purchase.”
Yong’s arm twitched as he finished, but I was so nervous it took me several seconds to remember that was my cue. When I did, I stepped forward in a rush, fumbling the latch as I struggled to open the briefcase I’d been carrying. My mother would have been mortified, but in my defense, it’d been a long time since I’d had to be my dad’s hench-mortal, and briefcase latches were bullshit. Thankfully, the Gameskeeper was too interested in what was inside to notice my lackluster performance.
He leaned forward, his dark eyes lighting up when he saw the direct-uplink crypto-bank terminal we’d convinced the DFZ to loan us. Personally, I thought the flat gray box with its yellow-green entry screen looked super boring. Not to be tacky, but this was a backroom deal with an Underground kingpin. Surely it deserved something flashier like gold or diamonds.
But those sort of frivolous thoughts were why I was a Cleaner and not an international criminal. Gold and gems looked impressive, but you could only pack so much of either into a briefcase. A portable, anonymous bank terminal, on the other hand, implied infinite funds, and from the way his mouth was curving upwards, the Gameskeeper got the message loud and clear.
“I appreciate that you’ve arrived prepared,” he said, sitting back in his worn leather chair. “But what makes you think I have something to sell? I’m an entertainer, not a shopkeeper.”
“Entertainment is still a business,” my father said, his deep voice as smooth and deadly as a silk garrote. “If you know who I am, then you know I’m a collector. Like any good collector, I’m willing to pay for quality, and you’ve got something I want.”
I had to fight not to flinch. When we’d gone over this part earlier, I’d argued that line was coming on way too strong. Typically in a negotiation, coming straight out and saying “I want this” was the worst possible move. When I’d pointed this out to my father, though, he’d told me I was missing the point. We weren’t here to get a good price. We were here to save Nik, and stating our intention directly showed we weren’t screwing around. Dad’s logic was “if you can’t walk away, go in strong.” I still wasn’t sure I agreed with that, but at least the Gameskeeper was listening.
“You must want it very badly to come to me in person,” the blood-smelling man said, his creepy voice purring with anticipation. “I have a guess, but I’d like to hear you say it. What do I have that you want?”
“The human, Nikola Kos,” my father replied without hesitation.
That was clearly not the answer the Gameskeeper had expected. “Kos?” he repeated, his plain face going slack with surprise. Then his eyes flicked to me, and his smug smile returned. “Ah.”
I didn’t like the way he said that one bit. I didn’t like anything about this man or this place, and if Nik’s life hadn’t been riding on me pretending to be a dragon’s obedient mortal, I would have told him so in words he’d never forget. It was through true heroic effort that I kept my expression passive and my mouth shut. A Herculean task that got even harder when my father reached back to pet me on the head like I was a dog.
“My daughter has taken a fancy to him,” Yong said, his tone making it clear that he thought this was utterly ridiculous, but what could one do? “Fortunately, I have the means to indulge her. I want to buy out Kos’s contract. Name your price.”
“There isn’t one,” the Gameskeeper replied. “Mad Dog is not for sale.”
Yong flashed him a predatory smile. “Everything’s for sale.”
The Gameskeeper chuckled. “Don’t feed me that line. I know your story, Yong of Korea. You’re your daughter’s puppet. Everyone in the DFZ knows how you nearly killed yourself over her. Kos made the same mistake, which was how he fell back into my hands after years on the run.” The Gameskeeper’s gaze slid to me. “What is it about you, I wonder? You’re not that pretty.”
I wanted to roll my eyes so bad. Why did they always go after my looks? It was just so lazy, not to mention ineffective. My dad had said as much and worse all my life, but for some reason hearing someone else insult my face got him riled.
“My daughter is a jewel,” Yong snarled. “The opinion of a bottom-feeding scavenger like yourself means nothing.”
“It must mean something to make you snap,” the Gameskeeper replied with a grin. “But thank you for proving my point. Everyone has something money can’t buy. Your ‘jewel’ is obviously yours. Kos is
