subject with me. They are armed and stationed at opposite ends of the house. Oscar's at least my height, and nearly that wide, but it's all muscle. Travis is even bigger. I'm not too sure about all this, having guns in and around the house – they're nothing but trouble. Dr Brooker's right about that much.
I've drawn enough souls, who were killed by guns, to the Underworld, been nearly killed by guns myself. But this time I suppose they're a necessary evil. Doesn't mean I have to like it.
We've just finished dinner, and I'm on my third beer, helping with the washing up (Dad didn't believe in dishwashing machines) when Lissa fixes me with a peculiar, disappointed stare. 'When were you going to tell me about Suzanne's deal?'
I lift my foot with exaggerated care, even groan a little, but it doesn't cut it as a sympathy maker. Lissa's hands are on her hips now, and she's scowling at me.
I drop the scrubbing brush into the sink and stop myself from asking who told her. 'Look, I've been a little distracted of late.'
'I know, but this is big. You're talking about the most influential member of the Orcus. What does she want with you?'
'She's going to give me ten Pomps to supplement our numbers, and all I have to give her is ten hours of my time.'
'I don't like it. Suzanne could do a lot with ten hours.'
'Not nearly as much as you, my dear.' I know I've said the wrong thing at once. I narrowly avoid a tea towel in the eye.
'She has a reputation, you know.'
I feel my face flush. 'You've got nothing to worry about.'
'Don't tell me what I do and don't have to worry about.'
'Hang on, you wanted me to get involved, to work harder. And that's what I'm doing, isn't it?'
'I don't trust her, and you shouldn't either. The woman's a scheming bitch!'
That vehemence in Lissa's voice gets my attention. What has Suzanne done to her?
'Think about it,' she says. 'They're pushing so hard. The phone call at 2:30 in the morning. The meeting in the Deepest Dark. Cerbo's offer – and then someone starts shooting at you.'
'Lissa, they're Americans. They're brash, they're proud.'
'Exactly. And who loves guns more?' She hangs up the tea towel.
'No, I'm willing to accept that they're playing at something, but the shooting, it's got to be a coincidence. Maybe it's something to do with the Death Moot. Maybe it's something to do with the Stirrer god – perhaps it has other agents here. What I know for certain is that we need more Pomps. Look at what it's doing to you. Look at your palms.'
I know how much they must hurt. When Morrigan started his Schism, and as the Stirrers stepped up their invasion, my hands became open sores. And then there was the consequence of pomping itself – the psychic pain and damage. With every pomp it built until you felt as though you were being scratched from the inside out. Things weren't that bad, but they could be better.
'I'm all right,' she says. 'Things are improving.'
I lean in to kiss her but she pulls away.
'I don't think you should do it. Just tell her to piss off.'
'I'll take that into consideration,' I say.
Lissa scowls at me. 'RMs are devious, and she's worse than all of them combined.'
I need those Pomps. Ten more workers could make a real difference. Lissa can obviously see me thinking this; I'm certainly not one of those devious RMs. She takes a deep breath.
'Look, I'm serious, that woman slept with my father. It's all I can do not to hit her when I see her. It didn't stop Mum.'
'What?' Seems Lissa's just as good at keeping secrets as I am.
'It's a small world in any corporation. It happened twelve years ago, at a Death Moot in San Francisco. Steven, it nearly destroyed my parents' marriage. It certainly scarred it. I don't want that woman having anything to do with you.'
'But you can't think -'
Lissa glares at me.
'I mean, I love you. I'd never do anything to jeopardise that. But -'
Lissa's glare burns into me like the light of a very attractive but blazing sun. I'm withering beneath it.
'OK,' I say. 'I promise I won't agree to her offer without letting you know.'
That seems enough for now. I hobble to the couch with her and we snuggle and watch a DVD. She's asleep before the first scene is even finished. I stroke her hair for a while, she snorts in her sleep, and I ease myself out from under her. I'll wake her in an hour or so. I switch off the DVD, surprised that the sudden silence doesn't drag her from her dreams.
I'm in trouble. I need those Pomps and I need what Suzanne can give me: her experience. Mr D isn't enough, already he is distanced from the game, and from what I've read, and Suzanne's comments, he was always a little isolated. If I don't know what I'm doing, and why, there's no way that I'm ever going to run my region well.
But I don't want to hurt Lissa. She stirs in her sleep, frowns as though my plans are already upsetting her. My heart twists in my chest. There has to be a way I can keep this from her, and reduce the capability of Suzanne's Pomps to spy on me. The new ten could service some of the regional areas, with a couple more surreptitiously inserted into the Sydney and Perth offices. Those are the two that Lissa knows least of all. If I can keep them out of Brisbane I should be all right.
And Lissa has been on at me to keep practising my shifts. It's not as though she can tell where I'm going. With the preparations for the Death Moot, I'm going to have to be moving about.
Yeah, I think I can do this.
I grab my mobile, fast, before I can change my mind and text Suzanne: Yes.
A text hits my phone.
Suzanne Whitman.
No time 2 waste. We might as well start now.
'I can't see why not,' I say out loud.
'I thought you'd say that,' Suzanne says from behind me.
What? I spin and face her. Her presence strikes me hard, burns into my skull.
I glance over at Lissa – still sleeping on the couch, thank Christ. In fact, she's rolled away from Suzanne like a sleeper might from a cold draught.
'Get out of here, now,' I hiss, nodding towards Lissa.
Suzanne smiles. 'Keeping secrets, eh?'
'Deepest Dark, ten minutes.'
Suzanne is gone.
I walk over to Lissa, crouch down and shake her, gently.
Her eyes open.
'I have to go out for a little while. Didn't want you to panic if you woke up and I wasn't here.'
She yawns. 'What?'
'I have a meeting.'
'With who?'
'Cerbo.' Well, that's almost the truth.
'What does he want?' Her eyes narrow.
'That's what I'm going to find out. It'll be about Suzanne's offer at a guess.'
She purses her lips. 'Don't trust her, or him. Never trust another RM or their Ankou. There's always a bigger game at play.'
'I know.'
I lift her up gently, she rests her head in the hollow of my neck. All I can smell is her hair. How does it always smell so good?
