Grayson knew how to look after himself should trouble arise, but he couldn’t deny that the savage undercurrent in the club enhanced the mood.
The entrance itself was on the third level. A stifling heat rose up from the bodies gyrating on the dance floors below. Well over a hundred patrons occupied this level, but the club was large enough to accommodate the numbers without making it feel overly crowded.
The strobing lights made it difficult to pick any one individual out from the crowd, but Grayson still made a quick search for Liselle as he crossed the floor. By the time he reached the spiraling ramp leading up to the VIP level above, he still hadn’t seen her. He wasn’t worried, however. Eventually she’d find him.
Climbing the ramp, he could feel the insistence of Afterlife fading slightly. On the topmost level of the club the music was less intense, the lights more subdued. It was less crowded, though Grayson still estimated the number of patrons at close to fifty.
Sitting behind the table of a large private booth on an elevated platform near the back was Aria T’Loak herself. From this vantage point Omega’s infamous Pirate Queen could look out across the entire club, taking it all in like a god looking down from above.
Like all asari, she was beautiful by human standards. Unlike Liselle, however, Aria’s complexion was more violet than blue. Grayson had often wondered if this had something to do with her age. He didn’t know how old she was exactly—he doubted anyone did—but he wouldn’t have been surprised to learn she was over a thousand years old. Despite this, she retained the youthful appearance and raw sexuality that was a hallmark of her species.
A familiar entourage surrounded her: a pair of asari handmaidens, a krogan bodyguard, and several batarians, including Sanak. However, the three turians standing at the table opposite Aria caught Grayson by surprise.
He had known the Talons would come to see her about the attack eventually; he just hadn’t expected them to arrive so soon. He hadn’t noticed an inordinately high percentage of turians in the crowd gathered outside the club, but if these three were in here to parley with Aria, it was a safe bet a dozen more were lurking in the streets and alleys outside.
His decision not to bring the red sand directly to the club was looking a lot less paranoid. He resisted the urge to say “I told you so” as he climbed the platform and took a spot beside Sanak next to the booth, close enough so his translator could pick up the conversation between Aria and her rivals.
Nobody paid any real attention to him; he was known to Aria and her associates, and the turians were focused only on her. There were private rooms on the VIP level, but Aria preferred to conduct most of her business in the booth, where others could see … especially when she was asserting her dominance over a potential challenger to her throne.
“I’m not denying what happened,” Aria answered calmly in reply to part of the conversation Grayson had just missed.
The turians waited for her to continue, but she was content to let her words hang in the air as she took a sip from the tall glass elegantly cradled in her left hand.
Eventually overcome by the pressing silence, one of the turians—probably the leader—took up the dialogue.
“We’re not looking to start a war—”
“Good,” Aria cut him off. “Because you’d lose.”
Momentarily thrown by the interruption, the turian was forced to start again.
“We’re not looking to start a war. We came to parley in good faith. We want to come to an agreement.”
“We already had an agreement,” Aria reminded him. “Two percent off the top. Then you started moving product without giving me my cut.”
“That was a mistake,” one of the other turians admitted. “We came to apologize. You’ll get your cut from now on.”
“No apology necessary,” Aria said, flashing a dangerous smile. “But you violated the terms of the contract. Now we need to renegotiate.”
The turians exchanged a few quick glances, and Grayson could see them weighing their next words carefully. The Talons were an up-and-coming gang on Omega, but they weren’t on par with the Blue Suns or Bloodpack yet. And they had no illusions about where they stood in the grand scheme. If Aria truly wanted to, she could wipe them out.
“A reasonable request, given what happened,” the first turian conceded. “We’ll increase your cut to three percent.”
“Five,” Aria stated, her voice making it clear the number wasn’t open for negotiation.
“Nobody pays five percent!” the third turian objected, taking an angry step forward as his hand dropped to the pistol clipped to his hip.
In a flash the krogan was beside him, his mammoth eight-foot frame looming over the smaller man. Slowly, the turian’s hand fell away from his weapon. Everybody else remained frozen until Aria gave a slight nod. The turian took a careful step back. A second later the krogan grunted, then did the same.
“You crossed me,” Aria said coolly. “There are consequences.”
“Five percent,” the leader agreed.
He hesitated before continuing, choosing his words carefully to avoid further provocation.
“There is still the matter of the attack itself. Several of our people were killed. A large sum of product was stolen.”
“Consider it the cost of doing business,” Aria said, calmly taking another sip of her drink.
The turians collectively bristled. Grayson knew they weren’t stupid enough to attack Aria here in the club; in addition to the highly visible bodyguards and biotics surrounding her, there were dozens of less obvious security personnel scattered around the VIP level. They’d be dead before they even got a shot off.
He did expect them to turn and storm out, however. Their friends had been gunned down, and the value of the sand was far more than what they had cheated Aria out of. She was adding insult to injury, making a point about who was in charge. She had backed them into a corner, and there was a chance they’d retaliate out of sheer desperation. The Talons couldn’t win a war against Aria, but they could make it hurt before she broke them.
But Aria had a knack for knowing exactly how far she could push her rivals before they pushed back. For hundreds of years, she’d played various factions off against one another while keeping them under her thumb; no one was better at ensuring that the anarchy of Omega never got out of control.
In the end the turian leader nodded, accepting her terms.
“I’ll inform our people,” he said.
“I knew you’d see reason,” she replied, dismissing them with a wave of her hand.
The turians turned and left without another word, the eyes of Aria’s krogan bodyguard following them until they descended the ramp to the level below and disappeared from view.
“It didn’t take them long to figure out what happened,” Grayson commented once they were gone.
“The Talons are smart,” Aria replied. “They’re growing fast. A little too fast. They needed to be knocked down a notch.”
“Glad we could do our part,” Sanak chimed in.
You four-eyed ass-kisser, Grayson couldn’t help but think.
“Sanak informs me the sand is secured at your place,” Aria continued. “I’ll send a crew over to pick it up in the morning.”
Grayson nodded.
“I won’t send them too early,” Aria added with a sly smile. “I’d hate for you and Liselle to have to cut your evening short. You’ve earned the right to celebrate. Everything at the club is on me tonight.”
“Thanks,” he said, taking the compliment in stride.
Aria was hard on those who failed her, but she was generous with those who came through.
“Liselle mentioned she’d be on level two,” Aria added, giving Grayson his cue to leave. He was smart enough to take the hint.
He went and got himself a drink at the VIP bar before making his way down to the second floor. He took his time, letting the atmosphere of Afterlife wash over him. In the end, it took him nearly twenty minutes to find Lis
elle. As he’d expected, she was on the dance floor, surrounded by a crowd of fawning young men and women.
Grayson had come to terms with Liselle’s penchant for humans: she liked them, and they liked her. He knew the asari preferred to partner with those outside their own species; their unique biology allowed them to take genetic traits from alien partners and incorporate them into the DNA of their offspring. But Liselle was still young; it would be decades—or maybe even centuries—before she passed from the maiden stage of the asari life cycle into the childbearing years of matronhood. Whether she would still be attracted to humans, or if this was just an experimental phase of her youth, he couldn’t say. And in the end, it didn’t matter. All Grayson knew was that she was interested in him right now, and he planned to enjoy the relationship as long as it lasted.
He pushed his way through the others on the dance floor, drawing irritated looks that quickly changed to envy when Liselle saw him and draped her arms around his neck to pull him in close.
“Aria seemed pleased with your work tonight,” she shouted, leaning in close to his ear to make her words heard above the music.
They were pressed tight against each other, Liselle’s body gyrating to the music while Grayson did his awkward best to try and match the rapidly pulsating rhythm.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he reminded her.
As he leaned in close to her ear, the familiar alluring scent of her perfume rose up and engulfed him. For some reason, however, it didn’t rouse the normal lust-filled urges.
Liselle was quick to notice his lack of reaction. Grabbing him by the wrist, she quickly dragged him across the dance floor and into a corner where the music was only a dull roar.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
From her expression it was clear she was concerned, rather than upset. As it always did, her concern made Grayson feel guilty and somewhat ashamed.
He preferred to see their relationship as primarily physical. For the most part, Liselle seemed to have a similar perspective. To think it was anything more was ridiculous; even if they stayed together for the rest of Grayson’s life, she would live on for hundreds and hundreds of years after he was gone. Her developing any serious emotional attachment to him wouldn’t just be unlikely … it would be tragic.
“I’m fine,” he said with a shrug.
“Maybe we should go somewhere quiet.”
Normally he would have jumped at her suggestion. Tonight, however, it felt wrong for some reason. Like he would be taking advantage of her somehow.
“I think I’m just tired,” he said apologetically, looking for a way to let her down easy. “Maybe I should go home and get some rest.”
“You were talking to her again, weren’t you?” Liselle said with a wan smile. “Your mystery woman. You always get like this after you talk to her.”
Grayson had never told Liselle anything about his past. She didn’t know about Kahlee, or Gillian, or his time with Cerberus. But there had been occasions when he’d mentioned the need to make a private call, and obviously Liselle had pieced some things together.
She’s a lot more perceptive than you give her credit for.
Again, it was clear Liselle wasn’t angry. She seemed a little disappointed, but she also seemed to understand and accept his reaction. Which only made Grayson feel even worse.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, not sure what else he could say.
Liselle leaned in and gave him a quick kiss.
“If you change your mind tonight, give me a call.”
And with that she was gone, disappearing back into the crowd of dancers, where she was quickly consumed by a wave of eager admirers.
No longer in the mood for the club, Grayson returned to the entrance on level three. One of the asari at the check counter winked at him. He nodded politely in response, then headed back out into the street, still wondering if turning Liselle down had been self-sacrificing or simply selfish.
FOUR
Kai Leng waited patiently in the line of patrons waiting to enter Afterlife. Though it was unlikely he’d run into anyone who’d recognize him on Omega—even Grayson had never met him—he’d still taken steps to hide his identity. He’d dyed his black hair blond and darkened the pigmentation of his skin. The signature ouroboros tattoo on the back of his neck—a snake devouring its tail—was covered with a temporary design of a Celtic knot.
Based on the length of the line, it would be several more hours before he reached the door and was allowed to enter Afterlife, and that was fine by him. He was here to wait, watching patiently for Grayson to reemerge.
Since tracking the former Cerberus member down on Omega nearly two weeks ago, Kai Leng had studied his routine from afar. He was learning Grayson’s patterns, familiarizing himself with his routine.
He had been surprised to discover that Grayson was working for Aria T’Loak; he had risen quickly through the ranks until he’d become a valuable minion of Omega’s most powerful crime lord. That complicated the extraction. Cerberus couldn’t just grab him from a public place and make a break for one of the spaceports. Aria’s influence spread too far on the station; someone would report the abduction. They’d end up having to fight their way through the Pirate Queen’s people to try and escape, and Kai Leng didn’t like those odds.
Secrecy was the key. Capture Grayson alone, where nobody would notice him missing. Get him off the station before anyone even knew he was gone. And make sure nobody could trace it back to Cerberus.
This had proved to be much harder than it sounded. Grayson was careful; he rarely went out in public unless he was on a mission for Aria. The club, a busy grocery store, and the apartment of his asari whore were the only places he ever seemed to visit.
Taking him at his own apartment was the preferred option, of course, but he lived in a secure district. Any attack on Grayson would have to involve some plan to first get past the guards protecting his neighborhood.
It would have been so much easier if the Illusive Man had simply wanted Grayson dead. Kai Leng could have completed that job within hours of locating him: a slow-acting poison slipped into his drink at the club; a sniper shot between the eyes from a hidden vantage point as Grayson walked down the street. But extraction was always more difficult than simple assassination.
Kai Leng wasn’t acting alone, of course. He had six of his own people—loyal Cerberus operatives—on standby in an apartment in a neighboring, human-controlled district, just waiting for him to give the signal. With a little luck, it could happen in the next few hours.
Everything had been in place a few days ago, when Grayson had suddenly dropped off the radar. At first Kai Leng feared he’d been made, but some careful inquiries revealed that Grayson had gone on a special mission for Aria. He hadn’t been able to learn all the details, but he’d gathered enough secondhand information to know it had something to do with drugs and one of the rival gangs.
Kai Leng had staked out the club, knowing Grayson’s eventual return to his alien master was inevitable. For three nights he had waited for a glimpse of his target in vain. But tonight his perseverance had been rewarded.
Grayson had entered the club less than an hour ago. If he went home alone tonight, instead of accompanied by the young asari he was sleeping with, they’d strike. If he wasn’t alone, they’d wait for another chance. Kai Leng was nothing if not patient.
Still, he was eager to get off the station. There were too many aliens on Omega, and too few of his own kind. He was an outsider here, subject to the whims of strange beings with cultures and values he had no interest in adapting to. The high crime rate, brutal dictatorship of the gangs, and relative powerlessness of humanity were a grim example of the Illusive Man’s vision of an alien-dominated future. Kai Leng was convinced that anyone who had doubts about Cerberus had only to visit Omega to truly grasp the fundamental necessity of a pro-human organization willing to do whatever was necessary to defend the species.
The VIP door to the club opene
d and everyone in line craned their necks eagerly to see who was coming out. They hoped to see a large group: six, seven, or eight individuals leaving the club meant the same number waiting in line would be allowed in to take their place. On seeing only a single human exiting, a palpable murmur of disappointment rippled through the crowd.
Kai Leng felt the opposite emotion as he watched Grayson emerge and wander off in the direction of his apartment alone.
Several patrons near the back of the line gave up in disgust, stepping out of the queue in search of other entertainment. Kai Leng blended in with this crowd to avoid drawing attention, heading off in the opposite direction Grayson went. He continued around a corner until he was safely out of sight; he didn’t want to risk Grayson noticing him if he happened to glance back for any reason.
Reaching up, he activated the two-way transmitter looped over his ear with a light touch.
“Target has left the club alone,” he whispered, knowing the receivers worn by the rest of his team would automatically amplify his words so they could be heard clearly. “The plan is go.”
Grayson made his way back to his apartment, his pace quickening with every step. He didn’t feel right. Tense. Restless. Frustrated.
Leaving the club had been the right decision; the scene at Afterlife held no appeal for him tonight. But he still felt bad about brushing Liselle off.
She’s right about Kahlee, you know. You always get moody after you talk to her.
He nodded to the guards at the district’s gate as he passed, but didn’t bother to speak as he blew by, his mind too caught up in his own thoughts.
Kahlee was a link to his old life; speaking to her was a way to keep the connection with his daughter alive. Their conversations were a reminder of what he’d once had … and what he had lost.
Those days are gone. Quit torturing yourself.
He reached his building, punched in the code, then quickly ran up the stairs. By the time he reached the door of his apartment he was breathing heavily. But while his physical exertion had raised his heart rate, it had done nothing to quell his inner turmoil.