finds the ‘true’ culprit responsible for Matron Fawn’s death.”
“And who’s this poor sap you’re going to frame for me?” I asked with a snarl.
“Oh, it’d be easy to frame a rival mob assassin,” Ethos said with a sly grin. “Consider it a bonus magic hit. Your name is cleared, Miss Piper will apologize, and you’ll be free to adopt your brother.” She leaned on one hand. “I’m sure with your skills, getting that money will be a dawdle.”
“Are you kidding me?” I said. “HVAC doesn’t pay near enough. I couldn’t make this kind of money in my lifetime!”
Ethos frowned and lifted one eyebrow. “You have more than one skill, you know.”
I paused and my ears started ringing. No. They weren’t suggesting that.
“You’ve got a reputation now, Mr. Black,” Pathos said. “A few level ten jobs and you’d have the money in no time.”
“I just spent the last ten months getting out of that business,” I snarled.
“Oh come now, sweetie,” Logos said. “No one really leaves the business. It’s just not possible. You could get right back into it.”
“Why are you so determined to get me back in?”
“It’s a simple trade, Mr. Black,” Ethos said. “You go back into the business. You take a few level ten hits. You give us the money and get Philip back. Meanwhile, we track your movements, tap your calls, and gather enough evidence against you to ensure you won’t go to the police about your parents’ deaths. Simple as that.”
I felt the warmth drain from my face. “You want to exchange Philip for assassin guilt. You want me to hand you evidence of my crimes.”
“Absolutely,” Pathos said. “A bargain if you ask me.”
“And what’s to keep you from continuing to use me? Should I expect to come under your pay and become your personal assassin?”
“Certainly not,” Ethos said. “This is assurance, as we said. It’s just tying up loose ends.”
“Killing me would tie them up a whole lot neater.”
“But there’s no fun in that, sir puma,” Ethos said. “And as we said, we’d rather not break families up. That’s happened too much of late, wouldn’t you agree?”
I glanced over the paper. What could I do? Was it really worth it to trade one bargaining chip for another? Could I really do this? I closed my eyes. Images of Mom’s final moments passed through my head. The promises I made to her about protecting Philip. That was more important than the promise to leave the business. I knew I had no choice. I had to do this. I opened my eyes again.
“Fine. Deal.”
Ethos grinned. “I knew you’d see things our way.” She took the invoice from me the three of them signed it with their codenames.
“How long do I have?”
“Long as you like,” Pathos said. “Though you might want to get it done before Miss Piper finds a new family for your dear brother.” She passed the invoice back to me.
At that point, the limo stopped. “Well, here’s your stop, Mr. Black,” Logos said. “A pleasure doing business with you. I’m sure we’ll be in touch. Have a wonderful day.” She opened the door and I walked out, still holding the invoice and champagne. She shut the door, and the limo sped away. I glanced around.
Across the street was Philip’s foster home. I took a long look at the white shutters and brown picket fence. The sound of children running and playing danced across the tarmac. Then I took a deep breath and walked up to the house. Might as well tell him the news.
Ten
The next day I sauntered into Trecheon’s office. He glanced up at me with a curious eyebrow. “Any luck with that social worker?”
I shrugged. “In a weird off-hand way, kinda.” I handed him the Fawn’s invoice.
Trecheon glanced over it, frowning. “It’s. . . an invoice. For a bargaining chip.” He shook his head. “One million dollars? What the hell does that even mean, Neil?”
I took a deep breath. “That’s the price the Triple Danger gave me. For Philip.” I gave him a summary of all that had happened yesterday. “If I pay them one million dollars and they’ll pin Matron Fawn’s murder on someone rival mob and clear my name sufficiently for the social worker.”
Trecheon frowned. “Why that much? They’re a multi-million-dollar corporation. They don’t need your money.”
“It’s not about the money, Trech,” I said, dragging the words out, trying to calm myself. “It’s about the number. It’s way too high for me to get legitimately.”
Trecheon frowned and dropped the paper. “Neil, please don’t tell me what I think you’re going to tell me.”
“I don’t have a choice.” I took a deep breath, preparing myself to say it. I had to say it or it wouldn’t feel real. “I need to get back into the business.”
The color on the inside of Trecheon’s ears faded and he furrowed his brow. “They can’t really expect you to do that.”
“That’s exactly what they expect me to do,” I said. “They told me themselves. If I start up in the business again to get that money, they can record all of my hits. My guilt as an assassin becomes their bargaining chip.”
Trecheon frowned, taking it all in. “So you’re just trading one bargaining chip for another.”
“Essentially, yes,” I said. “But I’ll get Philip back.”
“Why would they do that?”
I shrugged. “They said something about not wanting to break up families. I think motherhood changed their perspective more than they want to believe.”
Trecheon stood and glared at me. “Neil, you spent the last ten months trying to cut your connections and get out of the business. Don’t make the same mistake again. Don’t do this to yourself.” He shook his head. “Let me help. I’ll donate all my profits to you. We’ll get that number for them.”
I scoffed. “Will we?” I countered. “Trecheon, we’re just skilled labor. Combined we couldn’t make that number in our lifetimes.”
“Maybe we can take out loans.”
“Do you really think any bank is going to loan us that kind of cash? On my income? On yours?”
Trecheon frowned. He sat back in his chair.
“It’s an uncomfortable truth, Trech.”
“Don’t call me Trech.”
I bit my lip. Back to this again. “The fact of the matter is, killing is my only good skill. I’ll get back into for a few years, earn the money. And trade bargaining chips. I’ll finally get Philip back.”
“You’ll still be just as much a prisoner,” Trecheon said.
“But I’ll have Philip. That’s all that matters.” I sighed. “I can live with them monitoring us.”
Trecheon pressed his ears back. “When you came to me with this hit last year, you told me you were on the verge of going insane. You needed that magic hit in order to keep yourself from taking the easy way out.”
I waved a hand. “Magic hits aren’t real.”
“Neil--”
“They aren’t,” I snarled. “They can’t be real. How could it be real when doing that magic hit means I lost everything?”
Trecheon tapped his desk. “This isn’t the same thing as before. This isn’t working for yourself and taking only the hits you feel comfortable doing. This is leading to pure, cold-blooded killing. No hope. No magic hit. Nothing to hold on to. How am I going to keep you from insanity?”
“You won’t,” I said, trying to ignore the truth in his statement. “But Philip will. Magic hits aren’t real, but Philip. . . Philip is real.” I took a deep breath. “I can do this for him.”
Trecheon closed his eyes. He sat in that pose for almost a minute before opening his eyes again. “This is against my better judgement, but. . . I’m in too.”
I frowned, splaying my ears. This was not where I wanted it to go. “What? Why? I dragged you unwillingly into this profession and you were more than happy to get out. Why go back in?”
“Because you need a partner,” Trecheon said. “And I’ll h
appily donate my job money to you if it means you’ll get out of this business and get Philip faster.”
I paused, stunned. “Trech, I. . . I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t.” He held a hand out. “Just say you’ll let me help you.”
I pressed my lips together, ears still splayed. “I don’t deserve your loyalty.”
“We rarely deserve the loyalties we’re given, Neil,” he said. “Just let me help you.”
I glanced at the floor a moment, then stood. I held my hand out to him. He took it without hesitation.
“Thank you, Trecheon.”
“It’s what friends are for.”
I wasn’t sure that that’s what friends were for. Agreeing to do unpleasant jobs to help them attain impossible goals. But I wouldn’t turn down his help. It would be an insult to do so. As I released his hand, I realized I had been wrong.
He was a noble assassin.
There was no magic hit. Not really. And that was a disappointment. A hurt that would likely turn me insane if I didn’t get out of this quickly enough. But there were magic partnerships, apparently. Friendships. I clung to that.
I could only hope that I could live up to that friendship, and that perhaps some of Trecheon’s noble loyalty and kindness might rub off on me. And Philip.
About the Author
R. A. Meenan was born in London during the golden age of science fiction, but somehow time traveled to the Modern Era (some say a mad man with a blue box was involved). She was dropped on the doorstep of a house owned by anthropomorphic cats and though they were disappointed she didn't have furry ears and a tail, they took her in to teach her the ways of elemental magic.