That time he did hang up.
Well, that had certainly been uncomfortable for the rest of us.
Heather put her phone away. She was obviously not happy, but also not at all surprised. “I tried to warn you. This is a contentious subject for the two of us.”
“It was maybe a little obvious,” I said.
I’d also heard Earl vent about it several times. He thought the world revolved around Heather, but he hated her job with a passion and couldn’t for the life of him understand why she’d stick around and try to help the people who’d taken her away from him and forced her to serve on a black ops monster death squad. But then again, I’d also heard Heather lament about how Earl just didn’t understand that she wasn’t doing this for STFU, she was doing this because she saw herself in the other poor monsters who were trapped there, who hadn’t had someone like Earl to teach them how to control themselves enough to coexist with humanity. Basically, the whole situation sucked, and I didn’t have any answers, not that either of the stubborn werewolves would have listened to my advice anyway.
Beth didn’t care about any of that. She had a black ops monster death squad to run after all. “Don’t worry, Heather. Harbinger was right. I was bluffing. Rocky relationship with the authorities aside, MHI makes a difference. If Harbinger doesn’t want to cooperate, I’ll put my people on it. We’ll find the shapeshifter ourselves. Unless of course, you want to just make life easy for everyone and spill the beans, Pitt?”
“Sorry. I trust Earl’s judgment way more than you people.”
I hadn’t meant that reply as an insult to Heather. Honestly, I’d not even thought of it that way, but when I saw the look on her face, I could tell that she’d taken it personally, like I was saying she liked Unicorn more than her partner.
Before I could say anything else, the door opened and Mr. Coslow stuck his bald head in. “The paperwork is ready. This is a reminder to everyone that Stricken is not to be harmed or else there will be severe repercussions.” He looked pointedly at Franks, and then at Heather . . . and then back at Franks again for good measure. “Come with me, Mr. Pitt.”
* * *
We entered the interrogation room and Stricken scoffed when he saw me.
“When I made my list of demands, this sure wasn’t the Chosen I was expecting you to scrounge up, Harold.”
Harold must have been Coslow’s first name. “It meets the letter of the law,” the PUFF Adjuster said.
“Technically correct is the best kind of correct,” Stricken agreed. “Oh, well. A deal is a deal, but I was hoping for one of the smarter ones.”
Ten seconds in and I already wanted to kill him. No wonder they hadn’t sent Franks or one of the werewolves. “Oh, fuck off, Stricken. I forgot to bring my Mensa card to show you. I don’t want to be here either.”
He lifted his narrow hands and waved his spidery fingers so the chains would make a rattling noise. “I think I’ve got it worse.”
“And deservedly so. I will admit seeing you as a prisoner makes me smile.”
“If you’re still capable of smiling, then I take it Harold hasn’t told you what’s in my deal. You are going to be so disappointed when I leave here a free man. It turns out I’m too pretty for jail.”
“That’s okay. I figure as many powerful things as you’ve pissed off, something is bound to pop you sooner or later. You’re a dead man walking.”
“Yet I’m still walking out of here. Like you’ve got room to talk about making powerful things angry though, Mr. I blew up the Dread Overlord and woke up Asag so he’ll kill us all.” Even in chains, Stricken was still acting like he was the one holding all the cards. “You know what? Never mind, Harold. I withdraw my objection. The living embodiment of Monster Hunter hubris will do perfectly for this. Welcome to the team, Pitt.”
“I am not on your team.”
“It’s like they say, Pitt. There is no I in team. But in my experience there are often a bunch of suckers who get themselves drafted.” Stricken nodded at Coslow. “He’ll do.”
“Good,” Coslow snapped. “I find mortal attempts at witty banter tiresome.”
Mortal? Stricken noticed my confusion and smirked, because as usual, he knew more about what was going on than I did. He didn’t even need to say anything to rub it in.
Mr. Coslow glanced around. With so many guards in the small room, it was really crowded. “All of you, wait outside.” Mortal, immortal, amortal, whatever he was, the MCB agents were obviously scared of Coslow and happy to leave. Once the last one closed the door behind him, Coslow said, “Let us proceed.”
I pulled up one of chairs on the opposite side of the table. Coslow took the other one. He moved with authority. It was all business as he opened his briefcase and pulled out a fat stack of papers. He dropped them in front of Stricken, and then placed a plain disposable pen on top. “Sign here.”
Stricken looked at the paperwork but didn’t touch it. Then he
