Then, with another curse, he turns and stalks out of the room, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
Xerxes sighs, rattles the ice in his glass. He motions for me to sit in the chair beside him.
“Would you care for a drink?”
The chair is some large modern piece of shit that threatens to swallow me whole. Not very comfortable at all but it’s not like I’m going to complain.
“No thanks.”
“May I ask you, Holly—may I call you Holly?”
“Right now you can call me whatever you want.”
“Okay then, Holly it is. May I ask you what it was you expected to accomplish by coming to my club tonight?”
“I actually thought this was a karaoke bar.”
“Did you?”
“Yes. I’ve been having the urge to sing some Gwen Stefani lately.”
“Then why did Philippe and your American friend stay in the car?”
“They don’t care much for my singing.”
Xerxes’s smile is thin. “What did you think of the message?”
“What message?”
“Don’t play coy. After all, you were the one who eventually ended up with the briefcase, no? It seems almost appropriate when you think about it.”
“To be honest, I thought it was a little overdramatic. It just felt too … hack.”
Two women enter the room with paper towels and bottles of cleaner. They get down on their hands and knees, start spraying and wiping the floor.
Xerxes says, “Roland was a close friend of mine.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“He was like a mentor to me.”
“That’s sweet.”
“He taught me everything I know.”
“Does that include sucking cock?”
The women pause in their cleaning, stay motionless for a second or two, start cleaning again.
Xerxes says, “You are a very arrogant woman.”
“That’s what people tell me.”
“You should have taken your plane ride back to America. You should have walked away.”
“Like I told you, I thought this was a karaoke bar.” Thinking, how does he know I’m already supposed to be headed back to the States?
The women are quick and concise. In less than two minutes they’ve cleaned up the blood, gathered their things, and exited.
“How is Philippe, anyway?” Xerxes asks.
“He still blames you for his parents.”
“Pathetic. I had nothing to do with his parents’ passing.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
“I wasn’t even in the city when it happened.”
“No, you’re much smarter than that.”
“Just as I won’t be anywhere close by for your unfortunate death tonight. Not that anyone would suspect me.”
“Of course they wouldn’t. You’re a model citizen. Drugs, weapons, whores—I’m surprised they haven’t given you the Nobel Peace Prize yet.”
“Again, you are very arrogant. Aren’t you afraid to die?”
“Not really.”
He leans forward. “What about me—do I scare you?”
“What scares me is your breath. Seriously, have a Mentos or a Tic Tac or something.”
He’s faster than I take him for. He slaps me once across the face, then leans back and takes a sip of his drink.
I sit there a moment, trying not to give him anything. A couple seconds pass and I shift my gaze down at the glass beneath my feet. I can see the dance floor. I can see the people moving frantically about. And I can see Nova moving through those people, moving with purpose.
Xerxes says, “What is it like?”
“What is what like?”
“Being a murderer.”
“I’m not a murderer.”
“No? Then what is it you call yourself? You kill people for a living, no? You take their lives away. The last I checked that was called murder.”
“Work is work.”
“So you’re just a drone then, is that it? A puppet who waits for her strings to be pulled?”
“What I do is try to keep the world safe.”
He smiles, actually chuckles. “Oh, come off it.”
“People like your father figure are evil fucks that don’t deserve to live.”
“Hmm, that’s interesting. You believe Roland was evil. You believe, I assume, that I am evil too.”
“Among other things.”
“And so in your mind if you eradicate Roland and me and the rest of the evil men and women in the world … what—the world will suddenly be a better place?”
He waits for me to respond, and when I don’t, he grins.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret, Holly. Everyone’s evil. Even you. And not considering yourself a murderer is simply naïve. After all, killing is killing. Don’t you agree?”
He’s wrong, of course. I do consider myself a murderer. I’m not proud of the fact, but murdering people is what I do. And I’m good at it. One of the best. And I’ll be damned if I have some pink-shirt-wearing-ice-rattling-cocksucker tell me otherwise.
“Are you in denial, then?” I ask.
“About what?”
“About being a terrorist.”
“Terrorist?” He laughs, shakes his head. “I am no terrorist.”
“Then what would you call yourself?”
“What I call myself already. Xerxes, which means—”
“Douchebag?”
He takes another sip of his drink, again rattles the ice around in the glass.
“Terrorists for the most part want to destroy the world. But that’s not my ultimate goal.”
“What is your ultimate goal?”
He looks at me like the answer should be obvious. “Why, to rule the world, of course.”
He leans forward, places his lips to my ear.
“Roland was my friend,” he whispers, “and I loved him like a brother. And while I mourn his death, I can’t help but also be happy. Because now I have the chance to advance. Now I have the chance to take his place. And it’s all thanks to you, Holly Lin. Not like you knew what you were doing at the time—after all, you’re just a drone, aren’t you?—but you helped secure my place in history and … well, I just want to say thank you.”
He leans back, takes another sip of his drink. He stares at me, waiting for me to speak.
I say, “Did someone really buy the code today?”
“This morning, yes. It was done electronically.”
“And the boy?”
“One of my runners.”
“So the entire thing was meant to be a huge waste of time.”
“Not entirely. We still wanted to send you a message.”
“How did you know I would even be here?”
He smiles again. “You can’t even begin to imagine how much I know.”
I glance around at the men watching us. I
