The Long Way Down (Daniel Faust #1)(42)

I gave her a quick recap of my week, from finding Stacy’s wraith in the storm drains to my unexpected interview with Nicky at Club Prive.

“I knew Nicky was either keeping tabs on me or on Stacy’s grandfather with his pet seer, so I used an artifact to shield myself when I went to Kaufman’s house. I took it off, though, on the night of the poker game. If his guys were watching, Nicky knows exactly what went down there. This was payback. He must have leaked the details to the toe-eater and figured the ferals would do his dirty work for him.”

“Khlegota,” Caitlin spat, the flensetongue word slipping into my eardrums and doing cartwheels of spite. “I imagine the Kaufmans paid him to track down a succubus they could capture for their little plan. By sending them at me, he earned his filthy money and got me out of the picture.”

I nodded. “That’s Nicky’s flavor, no doubt about it. As long as I’ve known him, he’s always been a five-moves-ahead kind of guy. So what now? Are you going to go after him?”

The waitress brought over our plates, and Caitlin fell silent, looking pensive. The rich aroma of the beef Wellington opened my eyes wider than a pot of espresso.

“I can’t,” Caitlin said. “Nicky wasn’t abandoned or cast out like most halfbloods. His father is a duke in Prince Sitri’s court, and he’s very protective of his family’s reputation. I don’t dare move against him without ironclad evidence.”

I sighed. “Which Nicky knows. He’s also the kind of guy, in my experience, who has a knack for keeping his hands clean.”

“Choir of Pride,” she muttered, slicing into her meat, “they’re insufferable, every last one of them.”

The first bite melted on my tongue, a perfect blend of tender beef and puff pastry, the juices laden with flavor. “This is fantastic,” I said. “I forgive you for ordering for me.”

“See? Trust me. What’s your next move?”

I scooped up a forkful of glazed vegetables and contemplated it.

“Well, now that Nicky wants to kill me, that has to be squared. It’ll keep, though. His gambit with the ferals failed, and he’s gotta be thinking I suspect him. He won’t try again anytime soon.”

“What makes you think he won’t just shoot you?”

I shook my head. “Because Nicky Agnelli has a very strained relationship with the Vegas occult underground. We leave his rackets alone, and he leaves us alone. If he did anything to change that though, like for instance going all Al Capone and capping one of us, or anything else that could be traced back to his doorstep…well, he’s tough, but he’s not tough enough to handle every sorcerer in the city coming down on his head at the same time.”

“Sounds like we both have scores to settle.”

“Not just with him. I’m going after Sheldon Kaufman. The only way to free Stacy is by getting my hands on that soul-trap and trying to put her back together somehow. I can’t go all guns blazing, so I aim to shadow him a little and see what I can find out about this ‘plan’ of his. How about you?”

“Recovering the…old magic I spoke of is my first priority. Second is seeing that Sheldon joins his brother in hell. I have plans of my own, after what they did to me.”

But you can’t take the direct approach either, I thought as I savored another bite of beef Wellington. Not as long as Sheldon’s packing the kind of power to force you into signing another one-sided contract. You’d end up right back where you started, or worse.

“Sounds like we’re walking the same road,” I said.

“I’m not opposed to walking together a bit longer,” she said with a smile that suddenly faded. “But Daniel, heed me on this. Should you find what I seek, do not try to claim it for yourself. You will be tempted. But you would regret surrendering to that temptation, just as I would regret what I would have to do to you.”

“Would you like my word of honor?”

“You’re a sorcerer. Your ‘word of honor’ is just as worthless as mine. I will settle for your affirmation instead.”

“Then I affirm,” I said, “whatever you’re hunting is yours. All I want is Stacy’s soul, so I can put things right.”

Caitlin smiled, teasing. “How noble of you. A knight in tarnished armor.”

“Nothing noble about it. I took her grandfather’s money and said I’d do a job for him. The job’s not done yet. Simple as that.”

She held up her last forkful of beef, studying its succulent texture in the light.

“You interest me,” she mused. “Dessert?”

She insisted on ordering again, but after that meal, I couldn’t complain. The waitress brought over plates with a gooey, glistening toffee cake and, to my bewilderment, a stick of butter.

“I know gourmet food can be high-calorie,” I said, “but that’s overkill.”

“Try it.” Caitlin wagged her fork at me. “Have I steered you wrong yet?”

The texture felt all wrong, softer than butter. As I put a forkful to my lips and tasted the cold rush of brown sugar and cream I let out a little murmur of pleasure.

“Brown sugar and butter-flavored ice cream,” I said. “Perfect.”

“Quite. Believe me, I know temptation.”